Chapter 7: How Do You Take Off Your Clothes?

Cheng Wanyue fell hard.

The door hadn’t been fully closed, and upon hearing her cry, Qing Hang immediately pushed the door open. The contents of her bag were scattered all over the floor, and her phone screen was shattered, but Qing Hang’s attention wasn’t on these external objects.

The most obvious injury was her scraped knee, bleeding. He wasn’t sure if other parts were injured.

“Can you stand up by yourself?”

“Wait a moment, let me catch my breath.” Cheng Wanyue wasn’t crying deliberately; physiological tears were uncontrollable. “It really hurts.”

A tear dropped onto her hand, and Qing Hang suddenly became clumsy. After averting his gaze from her teary eyes, he recalled the first aid measures he had mastered long ago.

She used to be like this—every time she cried, it wasn’t loud sobbing, just quiet sniffles, but her tears kept falling. She wouldn’t speak, just look at him with a pitiful expression until he began to reflect on whether he had done something wrong, unconsciously apologizing to her. Only then would she smile again.

He didn’t understand how she could have so many tears, able to cry at will, nor did he know how much of her tears were genuine and how much were fake, but he always compromised.

“Let’s go inside first.”

Qing Hang placed one hand on her back and the other under her knees. As she was lifted, her hands instinctively clung to his neck. His body stiffened slightly; he initially just used his arm strength to support her. When her left foot swung in the air, his hand tightened, pressing against her skin. She could feel the moist heat of his palms.

Her breathing mixed with a few low sobs, and her hair brushed against his neck, unsettling his mind. Qing Hang quickly returned to the living room and sighed with relief as he placed her on the sofa.

It was already evident that her ankle was slightly swollen, her knee was still bleeding, and her elbow was red.

Qing Hang knelt in front of her, first pulling out a couple of tissues for her to press on the abrasion to stop the bleeding, then holding her foot and gently pressing on the joint with his right hand. “Does it hurt here?”

“A little, but not too much.”

“Is the pain inside, or is it from the surface abrasion?”

“A little of both.”

He changed the position and pressed a bit harder with his fingertip. “What about here?”

Cheng Wanyue almost cried out but held back, biting her lip and shaking her head, unable to speak. Seeing this, Qing Hang stood up to find some medicine. There was only one bottle of anti-swelling and pain-relief spray at home, so he opened the drawer to look for band-aids and iodine for disinfection.

The sun had already reached the TV cabinet. Cheng Wanyue lightly kicked him. “I’m so hot; turn on the air conditioner.”

“There’s no air conditioner outside, only in the room,” Qing Hang was sweating too. “Bear with it for a few minutes. After I finish treating you, we still need to go to the hospital to take an X-ray to see if there’s any bone damage.”

She leaned weakly on the sofa, her nose and eyes red. “Then help me pick up my things first.”

After efficiently treating the wound, Qing Hang took an empty cup and mixed the hot water on the coffee table with cold water before handing it to her, then went to the corridor to pick up the scattered lipstick, bag, earphones, keys, and high heels from the floor.

“The phone seems unusable.”

Cheng Wanyue tapped the shattered screen twice, and indeed, there was no response. “Then... can you call me a car? It’s more convenient to use a ride-hailing app; hailing a taxi on the street would take a long time.”

She looked down at her ankle. “Will I become lame?”

“No.”

“But we can’t delay too long, what if I do become lame?”

“Let’s go to the hospital now.” Qing Hang turned to find the keys. “Don’t wear high heels for now to avoid another sprain.”

“... But I don’t want to wear those ill-fitting slippers.”

The slippers at home were all men’s styles. The last time she came for dinner, Zhou Heng found two pairs of disposable slippers for her and Meng Qi, which they threw away after using.

There were no other shoes available for her to wear, so Qing Hang pursed his lips and silently squatted in front of her.

Cheng Wanyue remained seated. “Qing Hang, if I do that, I’ll be indecent.”

She was wearing a skirt.

Qing Hang turned around and picked her up as he had done earlier. A gust of wind blew in from the window, lifting her light skirt and revealing the black leggings underneath.

As she pressed down her skirt, Qing Hang averted his eyes. After a brief moment of thought, he carried her into the bedroom.

“What’s wrong?” She looked puzzled.

He didn’t say anything, closed the door, turned on the air conditioner, and took a white long-sleeve shirt from the wardrobe, placing it at the foot of the bed.

Cheng Wanyue hooked the collar of the shirt with one finger, shook it, stared at the shirt in her hand for a while, then turned her head to look at Qing Hang, who was tidying the wardrobe after rummaging through it.

Since he didn’t avoid her, she said nothing, reaching for the zipper on her side.

That shirt wasn’t seasonal; it had been at the bottom. After Qing Hang finished organizing the wardrobe and turned around to get his phone to call a car, the scene on the bed caught him off guard, freezing him in place.

The bedroom had dark curtains, and the sheets and thin blanket were gray. The natural light enveloped her, making her skin look even whiter. Her light-colored bra hugged her soft and full breasts, creating a deep cleavage. When she lowered her head, the pearl pendant on her necklace sank in, and the cool air from the air conditioner moved her hair strands. Qing Hang could clearly see how the pearl slid out from between her breasts.

Unaware, she kept unbuttoning the shirt, putting it on after finishing the last button.

The oily dress lay piled at her feet, and the leggings underneath were also removed. The shirt tails couldn’t cover her long, slender legs.

The cool breeze reached the foot of the bed, causing her pale toes to curl slightly, and her legs drew together a little.

The third buttonhole was too tight, and with one hand, it was inconvenient. Her toned abs were still exposed to the air. Suddenly, the sound of dragging chairs from upstairs jolted Qing Hang back to reality.

In that instant, all the blood rushed to his brain.

He bumped into the table corner as he turned around, causing the table to wobble.

“Cheng Wanyue, why did you take off your clothes?”

This was the first time he called her name since they met, his tone filled with obvious irritation.

Back in school, friends and classmates, whether familiar or not, called her Yueyue or Wanyue. Only he always called her by her full name.

“Isn’t changing clothes supposed to involve taking off the dirty ones first? If I don’t take them off, how can I change?” She was still fiddling with the button, not even raising her head. “It’s so hot outside; layering isn’t suitable for this season.”

The sound of the air conditioner couldn’t drown out the rustle of fabric against her body. Qing Hang closed his eyes briefly and muttered, “I meant for you to tie it around your waist.”

“Ah?” Cheng Wanyue froze. “I’ve already put it on. Why didn’t you make yourself clear?”

“There’s still a man in the room, and you just undressed without thinking?”

She gave a light “Hmph,” her nasal tone implying that she hadn’t considered him a man at all.

Qing Hang clenched his hands by his side, and the abnormal redness at his ear gradually faded.

Cheng Wanyue said, “Find me a pair of shorts.”

He grabbed one randomly. “They might be a bit big; make do with them.”

He returned to the same cold indifference he showed half an hour ago when asking if she wanted water, then left the room.

Cheng Wanyue didn’t complain. She took the belt off her dress and tied it around the shorts. It was still a bit loose but wouldn’t fall off after a few steps.

Without the several-sizes-too-large slippers, Qing Hang carried her downstairs. In the taxi, neither spoke, nor did they speak upon arriving at the hospital. He sat her on a chair in the lobby and ran around, finding a doctor and then carrying her upstairs.

Qing Hang found a colleague who happened to be in the outpatient department. Even though he knew the doctor, it still took two hours back and forth.

Standing in front of the computer reviewing the test results and discussing her condition with the doctor, Cheng Wanyue noticed his back was drenched in sweat.

“Zhou Heng went to the emergency room and will be back in the afternoon,” the young doctor casually asked, “Why didn’t you use the wheelchair on the first floor? Were they all borrowed?”

When Cheng Wanyue arrived, she was carried by Qing Hang. Earlier, for the X-ray, he had carried her downstairs and then back to the doctor’s office.

“I didn’t think about it,” Qing Hang glanced at the computer screen. “Could you help her prescribe some medicine?”

“There’s bruising; get two boxes of ointment.”

“No oral medication?”

“Not necessary. Just use the ointment for a few days. Wounds are prone to infection in summer, so be careful.” The doctor glanced at Cheng Wanyue’s clothes. The atmosphere between her and Qing Hang was strange. “Sister?”

Cheng Wanyue neither denied nor confirmed, instead smilingly asking, “Do we look alike?”

The doctor said, “Your skin tones are the same—both dazzlingly white.”

She flicked her hair. “Is there any discount for family members?”

The doctor smiled. “There’s a discount if your wife gives birth, but not for anything else.”

“…Alright,” Cheng Wanyue showed no trace of embarrassment. “I’m not his sister, nor his friend.”

“Not relatives or friends, surely not enemies?”

“…It’s complicated.”

Qing Hang went to fetch the medicine. By the time he reached the door, the two inside were still chatting. She could strike up a conversation with anyone.