[After enduring a bit of her girlfriend’s complaints, he couldn’t help but pull her back into his arms and kiss her again.]

Nights that belong to lovers are always especially tender and long.

The moonlight grew fainter, and the floor lamp in the room had been dimmed to its softest glow. The atmosphere was slightly dark, but the warm tones still brought comfort, making it perfect for quiet moments of cuddling late into the night.

The air conditioning was on. After their passion subsided, Zhou Leqi gradually began to feel the cold. Hou Zihao, however, always ran a little warm, and whenever he held her, she felt cozy. So, she stayed nestled in his arms, unwilling to move, and sleepiness slowly crept over her.

“Zhou Leqi...”

Suddenly, she heard him call her name, so she forced herself awake and murmured a sleepy response.

Then she felt him place a kiss on her neck, his voice low and husky as he whispered in her ear, “...Let’s get married.”

That one sentence jolted her fully awake.

She thought he was teasing, so she chuckled softly. But when she opened her eyes and turned to look at him, she realized his expression was dead serious. Even his deep-set eyes seemed darker than usual.

She realized he was being serious, but this only made her laugh more, waking her up completely. She playfully pushed him and said, “Can you stop messing around? I want to sleep.”

Half-teasing, half-spoiling.

His eyebrows furrowed, and he remained solemn, all traces of his usual carefree demeanor gone. He looked like a stubborn old scholar, insisting, “I’m not joking. I’m serious—let’s get married. We’ll go back and get the marriage certificate right away.”

He seemed genuinely intent on planning something.

She was speechless, caught between exasperation and amusement, and replied, “We’re not even of legal age yet. Where do you plan to get the certificate?”

He paused, as if just remembering that there was an age requirement for marriage certificates. He looked somewhat defeated but didn’t give up. After frowning deeply for a while, he suggested, “Then let’s get engaged first. When we go back, our parents can meet, and we can settle this matter.”

Engaged...

Zhou Leqi was utterly speechless.

“We’re neither celebrities nor tycoons—why would we need an engagement?” She sighed and shook her head. “I’m really tired... Let’s sleep.”

As she spoke, she gently tilted her head up and kissed his chin.

This kiss carried a hint of reassurance, mixed with subtle affection and gratitude. Of course, everything that happened that night made her happy, but as a girl, she couldn’t help but feel a faint sense of insecurity. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust him—it was just that... she worried her decision might have been too hasty.

But his urgent behavior calmed her down, letting her know that he desired a long-term, stable relationship even more than she did. He even... wanted to marry her directly.

In truth, she wasn’t overly concerned about whether their relationship was recognized by others, but his attitude undeniably made her feel sweet and secure.

She snuggled closer into his arms, finding a comfortable position to lean against. Her eyes were already closed, but he was still muttering, trying to persuade her: “Why must only celebrities or tycoons get engaged? That’s such prejudice... Think about it again, okay?”

Seeing that she ignored him, he added, “Actually, my family’s situation is pretty good. Maybe you should check us out? I really think we can get engaged…”

She was already asleep.

After that night, Hou Zihao became… even more like a dog.

German Shepherds are the best guard dogs, always sticking close to their owners. That’s how he was now. Wherever Zhou Leqi went, he followed. When no one was around, he clung to her and showered her with affection. When others were present, he became overprotective, always feeling like someone might try to steal his girlfriend.

Moreover, he became increasingly particular, starting to nitpick odd little things with her.

For example, names.

“I’ve noticed that we always call each other by full names,” he said, crossing his arms and frowning at her, looking somewhat dissatisfied. “Isn’t that a bit off? Let’s change it.”

Zhou Leqi had noticed this too, but she didn’t see any problem. In fact, she found his obsession with this amusing and replied, “No need to change... I think it’s fine.”

Clean and simple.

But he didn’t agree. He even gave her examples to support his argument: “How is it fine? My mom only calls my dad by his full name when she’s angry. Doesn’t that mean it’s bad luck?”

At least, it’s not harmonious.

Zhou Leqi: “...”

She was at a loss for words but couldn’t think of a counterargument immediately. Upon reflection, his point did seem to hold some merit, so she conceded a little and asked, “So what do you suggest?”

Hearing her say that, he perked up, raising an eyebrow. After pondering for a moment, he said, “Qiqi, how about that?”

In an instant.

Zhou Leqi blushed.

Qiqi...

Th-That absolutely won’t do!

Actually, there was nothing wrong with the nickname. Her family called her that, and it was common to use the last character of someone’s name as a term of endearment. It wasn’t anything extraordinary.

But... hearing him call her that was unbearable. It made her blush, her heart race, and filled her with shyness.

So, she flatly refused, which made Hou Zihao frown again. He asked, “Why not?”

Zhou Leqi was stumped. After thinking for a long time, she couldn’t come up with a good reason, so she lamely argued, “B-Because you’re younger than me. ‘Qiqi’ is something elders call me—you can’t use it.”

Hou Zihao: ?

Is that even a thing?

He was speechless but countered sarcastically, “So according to your logic, I should just call you ‘Sister’?”

Of course, this was meant as sarcasm—he didn’t actually want to call her “Sister.” But to his surprise, Zhou Leqi seemed quite pleased with the idea.

...There was even a mysterious flutter of excitement, a small thrill.

She didn’t say anything, but the emotions in her eyes changed. Hou Zihao knew her so well that he could tell exactly what she was thinking just by looking at her.

He never expected her to harbor such thoughts. He burst out laughing in frustration, pulling her into his arms and kissing her deeply, leaving her breathless and disoriented.

“I advise you to give up on this ‘Sister’ fantasy,” he growled threateningly, though his deep eyes overflowed with infinite affection. “On the other hand, the idea of you calling me ‘Brother’ sounds great. Let’s settle on that.”

How could Zhou Leqi possibly agree? Even though her ears turned red from his kisses, she still glared at him defiantly. To emphasize her rejection, she slapped him a few times and added, “Tch, don’t even think about it.”

Clearly, the young couple hadn’t reached an agreement on what to call each other, but that didn’t stop them from being inseparable. For the rest of their stay in Hainan, they stopped participating in group activities altogether. Everyone else in the group could go wherever they wanted, but the two of them insisted on being alone—together. Sometimes they’d watch egrets in the park; other times, they’d stroll along the beach.

But no matter how beautiful the scenery, they never stayed long. In the end, Hou Zihao’s favorite place was still their hotel room. He had tasted the sweetness of intimacy and now relentlessly pursued her day and night. The fiery waves of passion clouded Zhou Leqi’s mind, and she adored him so much that most of the time, she let him have his way.

The summer beach was the final piece of their dreamland, but it came with inconveniences. He had some strange quirks, particularly enjoying leaving marks on her body. Invisible places were one thing, but he also liked kissing her neck, leaving visible marks everywhere that were impossible to hide.

Every time she looked in the mirror, she got angry and couldn’t resist hitting him. But he didn’t resist at all—he agreed to whatever she wanted and let her vent however she pleased. After enduring her complaints for a while, he inevitably pulled her back into his arms and kissed her again. Once he succeeded, he laughed softly, mischievous and charming.

And yet... he had an irresistible allure that she couldn’t resist.

Sigh.

The major social disaster occurred during a group activity.

The group wasn’t stupid—they hadn’t seen Hou Zihao and Zhou Leqi for several days and naturally assumed the two were secretly dating. Ge Ao loved stirring trouble. That morning, after breakfast, he cornered Hou Zihao and dragged him off to play beach volleyball.

Hou Zihao had no interest in playing volleyball—his mind was entirely on Zhou Leqi. He immediately expressed disinterest, but Ge Ao taunted him, saying, “What, no stamina left? Are you done, Hou Zihao?”

?

Could he tolerate that?

Hou Zihao was furious, but upon reflection, sacrificing an entire day of alone time with Zhou Leqi just to win an argument seemed foolish. He was a smart man, so he decided to take the high ground. Whether he was capable or not, only Zhou Leqi needed to know—it didn’t concern anyone else.

But while Hou Zihao could handle the teasing, Zhou Leqi couldn’t. Her skin was thin, and she felt everyone was gossiping about her and Hou Zihao. Under everyone’s gaze, she felt too embarrassed to walk off alone with him. So she volunteered to join the group for beach volleyball, forcing Hou Zihao to tag along.

Although Zhou Leqi agreed smoothly, in reality, she had no idea how to play beach volleyball. She was a complete sports novice—she could barely kick a shuttlecock on solid ground, let alone play volleyball on sand.

Hou Zihao didn’t dare let her play on the opposing team. He wanted to keep her close, but unfortunately, they ended up on different teams during the shuffle. Helpless, he resorted to going easy on her during the game. When spiking the ball, he didn’t put any strength into it, lightly tapping it over instead. This infuriated his teammates.

“What the hell, Monkey—are you screwing with us?” Ge Ao exploded. “Using public resources to flirt—is that it? Are these ‘love-filled’ balls supposed to be romantic?”

Hou Zihao ignored him and continued to go easy on her.

This thoroughly pissed off his teammates. The guys on his team stopped passing him the ball. One high pass went to Ge Ao, who got excited, leaping three feet in the air on the sand and smashing the ball with all his might.

Unfortunately, Zhou Leqi was right in the ball’s path. How could she possibly catch such a powerful hit? Her first instinct was to dodge, but she tripped on the sand and fell.

Falling wasn’t a big deal—the soft, fine sand cushioned her, so it didn’t hurt. However, the fall caused her shirt, draped over her tank top, to slip off, popping several buttons. This exposed the hickeys covering her neck, collarbone, and back.

The entire scene froze for three whole seconds.

Oh god.

Awkward.

...What beautiful weather.

Zhou Leqi couldn’t get over this incident even as she boarded the flight back to A City from Hainan.

She was furious, sulking silently and refusing to speak to her boyfriend for the last few days in Hainan, let alone allow him to get close to her.

Hou Zihao felt a bit wronged, sitting on the plane trying to console her with a mix of laughter and tears. “That ball wasn’t even mine—it has nothing to do with me... Can you please forgive me already...”

His groveling didn’t move Zhou Leqi. She was still angry, glaring at him from her seat and whispering accusations: “How does it have nothing to do with you? I told you not to leave marks—not to leave marks—and you didn’t listen. Now how am I supposed to face my classmates?”

She was truly upset.

Hou Zihao sighed. Apart from apologizing, he had no other choice, though he couldn’t resist teasing her. With an ambiguous smile, he said, “Alright, next time I’ll be careful about where I leave them...”

This earned him another hard slap.

He caught her hand, kissed it lightly, and then sobered up, adding, “We’ve graduated anyway. How many times will we see them in the future? They’re not that nosy. Do you really think they’ll remember this ten years from now at our reunion?”

He sounded so reasonable.

But Zhou Leqi didn’t believe him. She could still vividly recall everyone’s reactions when her shirt slipped off—the smirks, the suggestive laughter, the boys’ catcalls...

And Yuan Jiahui’s expression—shocked and jealous, staring at her with a flushed face, fists clenched, alternating looks of anger toward her and wounded resentment toward Hou Zihao.

...It was almost as if she had stolen her boyfriend.

Zhou Leqi felt uneasy, but she wasn’t unreasonable enough to take out her feelings on Hou Zihao. The issue at hand was the hickeys, and she certainly wasn’t ready to forgive him so easily.

Hmph.

When they disembarked, everyone said their goodbyes. The beaches of Sanya had been a beautiful dream, but A City was the real world for everyone. In a few days, they would face the ultimate reality: checking their college entrance exam scores.

The joy of the holiday was fading, replaced by growing tension and anxiety. Zhou Leqi was no exception. While waiting for her luggage at the airport, she began to feel uneasy.

She wanted to talk to Hou Zihao to relieve her worries, but just then, he received a phone call. Whatever the person on the other end said, his expression grew increasingly somber.

It was an expression Zhou Leqi had never seen on Hou Zihao before.

More serious than serious, more shaken than shaken, colder than cold.

And a trace of... shock and brokenness.

She wasn’t sure if she was imagining things, but an intense sense of foreboding welled up within her. After he hung up, she couldn’t help but ask, “...Did something happen?”

He didn’t answer immediately. Instead, his gaze shifted slightly to the vast glass window of the airport.

Outside, there was none of Sanya’s bright, scorching sunlight, no white sand or azure sea, no coconut groves or leisurely egrets in the park.

Only a massive cloud loomed on the horizon, spreading endlessly toward where they stood.

...Like some fate that repelled yet could not be resisted.