Chapter 18: No Progress

Good students learn quickly.

Their second kiss didn’t take long, nor did the third. That period was the best time of their three years together. Even when they quarreled, they reconciled quickly.

In their senior year, Cheng Wanyue was in different classes from several childhood friends, and their classrooms weren’t even on the same floor. But she didn’t mind; she could have fun wherever she was.

Her academic performance was average, but from kindergarten through high school, every teacher not only didn’t dislike her but actually liked her—a rare case indeed.

Before the heat arrived, Bai Cheng experienced a long rainy season. Cheng Yan Qing had hidden his first love, Qin Hua, from everyone around him. During his first and second years of high school, he disappeared as soon as class ended and returned home late. Cheng Wanyue often couldn’t find him, and this continued into their senior year; she didn’t know what he was busy with.

Cheng Wanyue constantly flirted with the edge of tardiness, rushing out in the morning and often forgetting her umbrella.

She dozed off again during math class. Her desk-mate couldn’t wake her, and she even muttered some curses.

On the last Friday of each month, there was no evening study session, and the weekend had two days off. Many boarding students went home. When she finally opened her eyes with a yawn, most of her classmates had already left.

It was raining again.

Cheng Wanyue disliked rainy days. She had many beautiful clothes and shoes and hated getting them dirty with mud. She sighed, reaching into her desk but finding only snacks.

What good were two brothers if neither could be relied upon?

Qing Hang, the class monitor, was the last to leave. As he reached the last floor, he paused at the corner because he saw Cheng Wanyue standing at the entrance of the teaching building. It was raining outside, and she wore white shoes, hesitating to step out.

Before she noticed him, he tucked his umbrella into his bag.

Hearing footsteps, Cheng Wanyue turned around. She dressed differently every day. Yang HuiMin spared no expense in this regard—she was an only daughter, and she would only turn 17 once in her lifetime, so naturally, she should dress beautifully.

Bai Cheng No. 1 High School didn’t strictly require students to wear uniforms, but Qing Hang consistently adhered to the rules, day after day.

Before he saw her, she quietly hid outside the door, jumping out to startle him as he approached.

“Qing Hang!”

The impact was strong, and she grabbed his arm to steady herself.

Qing Hang seemed genuinely startled. “Why are you leaving so late?”

“I fell asleep,” Cheng Wanyue looked at his empty hands. “You didn’t bring an umbrella either, so we’ll have to walk home in the rain today.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Qing Hang noticed a PE student descending from another staircase. He was good friends with Cheng Wanyue and had taught her basketball over the summer. She had bought several sets of basketball attire for this purpose. He unfolded a large black umbrella and headed towards them.

Cheng Wanyue was still fretting over her shoes when suddenly, something dark covered her head. She pinched the edge of the fabric and pulled it up to her eyes, realizing it was Qing Hang’s school uniform jacket that he had taken off.

The next moment, he grabbed her wrist and pulled her into the rain.

She vaguely heard someone calling her name from behind. The jacket on her head kept being blown by the wind, covering her eyes, so she didn’t have time to look back. “I think someone called me, Qing Hang. Did you hear?”

“No,” he quickened his pace. “If we wait any longer, the rain will get heavier.”

“Ah! I stepped in a puddle! Qing Hang, my parents are going to have a meeting again. I want to stay at your place first.”

“Mm.”

It was only a ten-minute walk, but they were already soaked. There was no need to rush so much, yet Cheng Wanyue was pulled along by him. Just as she opened her mouth, rainwater drifted into it. The roaring wind and rain drowned out all other sounds, making conversation impossible.

Her stamina wasn’t as good as his. Upon arriving home, she collapsed directly onto the cool chair, gasping for breath. After resting enough, she sat up to take off her shoes and dry her hair.

“Where did Grandpa go?”

“He went back to the village,” Qing Hang poured a glass of plain water and brought it into the room, placing it on the table. “Change your clothes first, then drink the hot water to prevent catching a cold.”

The half-wet school uniform was piled on the chair. Cheng Wanyue glanced at it but didn’t take the T-shirt he handed her. “It’s a bit cold today. I want to wear your other school uniform jacket.”

There were two sets each season.

“I’ll look for it,” Qing Hang went to search through the wardrobe again.

Early autumn weather was unpredictable, sometimes cool, sometimes warm. His other set of school uniforms had been washed and pressed under the others.

Cheng Wanyue sat on the cool chair unbuttoning her clothes, using a towel to dry the water stains on her body. When Qing Hang turned around, she was adjusting the strap of her bra. The strap was a bit tight, leaving a faint red mark on her skin.

“Hold me,” she always complained that this cool chair hurt her waist and back, asking Qing Hang to put a cushion on it, but he never listened.

Qing Hang looked slender but was very strong. Even if Cheng Wanyue didn’t cooperate at all, he could easily lift her up without difficulty.

She wore only the school uniform jacket, taking off her hair tie, letting her long hair fall smoothly behind her shoulders.

As Qing Hang bent down to pick her up, his slightly cool lips also touched hers.

Together, they fell onto the bed. He propped himself up, not putting all his weight on her. After a brief second of separation, he changed, his kisses suddenly becoming fierce.

He remembered the summer vacation when she played basketball on the playground with several PE students.

The clothes were loose on Cheng Wanyue, the sleeves long. In their entanglement, they became tighter and tighter, as if she were bound by ropes. Her struggles, whether light or heavy, were futile, only rubbing against the hardness between his legs, bringing him pleasure.

“Biting again, you’re the puppy.”

“Qing Puppy.”

“I just wanted to do homework. Who told you to kiss me?”

Qing Hang not only kissed her but also wanted to touch her.

At this point, she didn’t have much temper. At most, she feigned unhappiness, pretending to be angry, glaring at him, tearfully complaining about pain, waiting for him to lay down his arms and retract his claws. Then she would reveal her true nature, repaying him double for the pain she endured beneath him.

He had learned his lesson. Unless he willingly let her toy with him, he wouldn’t step into the same trap twice.

Qing Hang’s hand slipped inside from her waist, feeling as if he were holding a piece of delicate, slippery cream. The last bit of his thinking ability was used to recall how she had supported herself earlier.

He was silent but firm, desiring too much yet inexperienced and awkward.

Leaving marks on her neck was too dangerous. When kissing her collarbone, he was very careful. Once past the danger zone, he couldn’t restrain himself. But she had said, don’t hurt her, and then he could kiss her. So he had to be slower, gentler.

Her breast felt as soft as a ripe persimmon. A small bite could draw out the juice, making even his tongue feel rough, let alone his teeth.

No matter how careful he was, he would lose control.

The head buried in her chest was forcefully pushed away by her. Qing Hang’s vision blurred. After a long while, her facial features slowly became clear. Her flushed face and slightly wet eyes silently accused him of how brutal he had been.

His head ached fiercely, his expression dazed, his voice hoarse. “Why did you cut your hair... It’s not supposed to be like this... You had long hair, black...”

Cheng Wanyue glared at him, puffing up her cheeks. “Qing Hang, how dare you嫌弃 my short hair ugly!”

The alarm clock rang, its sound unbearably piercing. Qing Hang finally came to his senses. They weren’t in that small, damp room, and it wasn’t raining outside.

“Why am I in bed?” Hadn’t he been sleeping on the sofa...

He had a high fever, his body scorching hot, his mind confused. Cheng Wanyue didn’t dwell on his hypocritical behavior of criticizing her haircut while touching her chest.

“You’re asking me? I want to ask you too. We agreed that I’d sleep in the bed and you on the sofa. How dare you take advantage of me while I was asleep!”

The piercing sound of the alarm clock made Qing Hang dizzy and disoriented. Dreams and reality overlapped, trapping him inside with no way out.

His mother had passed away on his birthday, so he never celebrated it. His childhood was filled with only black and white. After Cheng Wanyue entered his life, those unpleasant memories gradually faded, like words on paper erased by an eraser. She loved bright colors and painted stroke after stroke in his world.

After they separated, those unbearable memories resurfaced quietly, becoming shackles that dragged him back, making every step forward more difficult than for others.

Their love had started too early, and after it rotted, it spread like a slow poison through his veins, infiltrating his heart and lungs.

He had walked a long way to reach where he was now. Whenever he paused and looked back, all he remembered were the painful memories—his parents’ deaths, his grandfather’s passing, the poverty, loneliness, and helplessness of his youth... and Cheng Wanyue.

But just when he thought he was about to fall off the cliff with the collapsing rocks, it was Cheng Wanyue who reached out her hand, rescuing him.

He originally had nothing left, but then Cheng Wanyue came.

Cheng Wanyue had no idea what Qing Hang was thinking. She only felt that he seemed a bit cold upon waking up, yet the way he looked at her was tender, as if hiding countless emotions she couldn’t quite decipher.

“You stripped me naked—aren’t you going to help me get dressed?” she complained softly, her voice delicate and spoiled. “Qing Hang, you haven’t improved at all. I told you to be gentle, but you still hurt me every time. I’m not a lump of dough that you can knead and pinch without feeling anything.”

Qing Hang suddenly smiled. “How do you want me to improve?”