Chapter 8: Don’t Get Too Close

After leaving the outpatient building of the hospital, Qing Hang ran a few steps to hail a taxi. The driver stopped at the wrong spot, where there were steps, making it inconvenient for Cheng Wanyue, who was in a wheelchair.

She wasn’t wearing shoes, and her ankle was still covered with ointment, yet she showed no signs of worry. Coming to the hospital was like taking a casual stroll for her.

Her phone was broken, so she had nothing to play with. Qing Hang left for just a few minutes, and she struck up a conversation with an auntie at the entrance. The auntie complimented her on her hair color, and she, in turn, praised the auntie as fashionable and even gave her the address of the hair salon.

Qing Hang opened the parasol to shield her from the sun. “Should I call Cheng Yanqing to pick you up, or should we buy you a pair of shoes first?”

“He’s still working and has been particularly busy these days. I lost my keys and was locked out yesterday. He got scolded by his boss for taking leave to open the door for me,” Cheng Wanyue looked up at him. “Even if I wear shoes, I can only hop on one foot. Without support, I can only hop five meters at most. I’m a bit hungry, let’s eat first.”

There were a few more steps from the entrance to the taxi. He looked at Cheng Wanyue’s feet, probably pondering whether to carry or lift her.

The auntie beside them said, “It’s hot today. Hurry up and get in the car. I’ll return the wheelchair for you.”

“Auntie, you’re so kind. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Wishing you a speedy recovery.”

As soon as Cheng Wanyue stood up using the wheelchair handles, Qing Hang instinctively turned around. When she hopped onto his back, he supported her body with one hand before handing her the umbrella handle.

In fact, he was hotter. Running around, paying bills, and fetching medicine, his forehead and neck were all sweaty.

Once they got into the taxi, it cooled down a bit. Cheng Wanyue used his phone to locate a nearby restaurant and directed the driver to follow the navigation.

There were tissues in her bag. She took one and placed it on the back of his hand.

Her nail polish color wasn’t exaggerated, matching her hair tone. Her ring finger had glitter, reflecting sunlight and shining brightly. Qing Hang averted his eyes, took off his glasses, and wiped the fog off the lenses with the tissue.

That half-wet tissue was still clutched in his hand even after they got out of the car.

The taxi stopped outside a noodle shop. Cheng Wanyue couldn’t cook, and Cheng Yanqing used to be a kitchen disaster too, burning pots while cooking instant noodles. Eventually, he learned to make a proper meal, but he couldn’t be home 24 hours a day. When he went to work, Cheng Wanyue often came here to eat noodles.

The food was tasty and clean.

What Cheng Wanyue liked most was the chili oil here, both spicy and fragrant, with dried small fish inside.

Though Qing Hang paid, it felt like she was treating. As soon as they sat down, she ordered two bowls of soup noodles. She had sour soup, and the other was chicken soup.

They sat opposite each other at the table. After Qing Hang sat down, Cheng Wanyue placed her feet on his shoes. While looking at the ointment on her feet, she forgot to tell the waiter not to add cilantro.

When the dishes were served, both bowls of noodles had green cilantro.

Before she could say anything, Qing Hang picked up chopsticks and moved all the cilantro into his bowl. The originally light chicken soup now had a few drops of red oil floating on top.

He couldn’t handle very spicy food, but Cheng Wanyue loved spicy. Even when she had a cold or fever, she wouldn’t drink porridge but preferred strongly flavored foods like spicy glass noodles and spicy hot pot.

Outside, the blazing sun heated the ground to a high temperature. Inside the shop, the air conditioning kept them cool, away from the sun.

Qing Hang stood up. “You stay here while I go look around nearby for slippers.”

“No need to buy. There are some at home,” Cheng Wanyue hadn’t finished eating either; she had a hearty breakfast. “I live on this street, just 300 meters ahead.”

So, Qing Hang picked up the high heels again and carried her forward along the road.

Both sides of the road were lined with locust trees. The wind swayed the leaves left and right, and their shadows on the ground gently fluttered.

Cheng Wanyue folded the parasol. Her arms loosely circled Qing Hang’s neck. It was hot, and she was a bit sleepy. Not far from the noodle shop, she leaned on his shoulder and yawned.

The shirt was slightly thick, becoming damp with sweat, softly clinging to his back.

They fell silent again, yet there was an unspoken intimacy.

Three hundred meters wasn’t far, similar to that alley in Baicheng. No matter how slowly they walked, time would catch up.

...

Cheng Guo’an described Cheng Wanyue’s academic performance in one sentence: “She doesn’t have a weak subject—because she’s bad at all of them.”

His joking tone carried a hint of helplessness. Both he and his wife, Yang Huimin, graduated from prestigious universities. Their pregnancies were smooth, and their children grew up without illness or disaster. Their brains should’ve suffered no harm, yet neither excelled academically—one worse than the other.

Cheng Guo’an had even taken them to the hospital for IQ tests. Their intelligence was fine, indicating their minds weren’t on studying—they weren’t dumb.

Before going to the Cheng household, Qing Hang had devised a tutoring plan based on his own study habits. But in front of Cheng Wanyue, all his plans were wasted—none were useful.

Cheng Guo’an and Yang Huimin were going to a meeting in the city. Before leaving, they even washed and cut the fruit, bringing it into the room.

Cheng Wanyue promised she would diligently do her homework. However, as soon as the door closed, her true nature revealed itself—she didn’t even wait for her parents to go downstairs.

“Qing Hang, help me finish the test papers.”

“You need to do these test papers yourself. If you don’t understand any questions, I’ll teach you.”

“Why are you so stubborn?” She was getting impatient but tried to persuade him. “If you don’t tell and I don’t tell, they won’t know whether you’re tutoring me or playing. Help me with my homework, and I’ll ask my dad to give you more money.”

Qing Hang remained unmoved. “No.”

“But I only want to hear the person I like explain the problems to me; I’ll only listen to the person I like. If you can make me like you, then I’ll listen to you.”

She took out her gaming console, found a comfortable position on the bed, leaned against the pillow, crossed her left leg over her right, and threw a challenging look at him. “But right now, I really dislike you. There’s no one I hate more than you.”

However, Qing Hang didn’t know at this moment that what she really disliked was studying.

They had only met a few times and weren’t even friends. When she said she hated him, he truly believed she did.

“Cheng Wanyue, I’m not obligated to worry about your grades, nor am I trying to earn money from Uncle Cheng. I just think if you don’t study well, it will make me seem useless.”

Cheng Wanyue shrugged indifferently. “Then try if you want.”

Although they were in the same room, she played her games while Qing Hang focused on his own things. It was as if there was a boundary line drawn between them.

One side occasionally made some noise—she alternated between lying down and sitting up, playing games and texting classmates—while the other side was silent, as if he didn’t exist.

Unconsciously, the sun had set.

Cheng Wanyue’s stomach was a bit hungry, and after playing for a long time, she found her phone boring.

There was instant noodles at home. She boiled a pot of water and brought it to the room, making two bowls of braised-flavored noodles.

While waiting for the noodles, she idly approached the desk, curious about what Qing Hang was writing for hours.

For people she knew, she felt no sense of unfamiliarity.

She dressed lightly, and when she leaned over, her neckline slightly opened, allowing Qing Hang to see the pink lace of her innerwear.

“What are you doing!” Qing Hang suddenly stood up and moved far away.

Cheng Wanyue was startled by his excessive reaction. “Why are you being so fierce? Are you writing something shameful?”

He seemed to realize his reaction was too strong and looked somewhat uncomfortable.

The book lay open, and Cheng Wanyue saw that he had completed the test paper on paper, filling it with answers while the test paper itself remained clean. He was fair and delicate-looking, but his handwriting was wild and artistic.

He murmured, “Don’t get too close to me.”

Cheng Wanyue smiled and asked, “I don’t have thorns on me. Do you have thorns on you?”

Qing Hang avoided looking at her. Since he didn’t speak, she didn’t find it boring and sat down at the desk without any self-awareness.

Her noodles weren’t ready yet, and she tasted a strand, finding it a bit hard.

Qing Hang stood still while she picked up her phone, propped her elbows on the desk, and tilted her head back to reply to messages.

The evening glow dyed the sky red. The cut watermelon hadn’t been finished, and the air carried a faint sweet scent.

Three steps apart, the evening light streamed through the window, pulling their shadows closer together on the wall. Qing Hang glanced sideways, accidentally locking his gaze and unable to look away.

The message alert sounded continuously as she fidgeted restlessly. The two shadows on the wall grew closer. Qing Hang stood motionless, watching her raise her chin as if about to kiss him.

His face flushed with heat, while Cheng Wanyue remained oblivious.

“Ah!”

She suddenly screamed, snapping Qing Hang out of his self-induced fantasy.

Before he could sigh in relief, she shrieked and jumped onto him, tightly hugging his neck with both hands and wrapping her legs around his waist.

Afraid she might fall, Qing Hang instinctively held her and stiffly asked, “What’s wrong?”

“Something just crawled over my foot. I don’t know if it was a rat or a cockroach,” she peered under the desk. “Did you see it?”

“... No,” before his words ended, a black tail peeked out from a gap. “It seems like a rat.”

Cheng Wanyue clung tighter with her legs. “A few days ago, Cheng Yanqing said his clothes were bitten by a rat, and I didn’t believe it. Turns out there really are rats at home. Qing Hang, are you afraid of rats?”

“Not really.”

There were plenty of rats in rural areas. Sometimes at night, he could hear them fighting on the ceiling.

“But I’m very scared. We don’t have a cat. Help me catch the rat.”

Just a minute ago, she treated him like he was invisible, but now she was clinging to him intimately like a lover.

This sudden closeness made Qing Hang uneasy. He had never hugged a girl before and realized how soft a girl’s body could be.

“You have plenty of food at home. The rats must be full and won’t bite you.”

“That’s not acceptable. What if it climbs onto my bed while I’m asleep or crawls into the wardrobe? How dirty!” Just recalling the sensation of the rat crawling over her foot gave her goosebumps and nearly made her cry. “Qing Hang, please help me catch that rat. I beg you.”

One moment, she commanded him matter-of-factly; the next, she begged pitifully.

Qing Hang was completely entangled. “How am I supposed to catch it with you like this?”

“Then I’ll stand on the chair.” Cheng Wanyue directed Qing Hang to lift her to the desk. “It ran under the bed.”

Qing Hang turned around, took a deep breath, and squatted down to look for the rat before his heartbeat returned to normal.

Cheng Wanyue was terrified of rats. She stared intently at Qing Hang, only wanting him to catch the rat quickly and not caring about anything else.

The rat ran out from under the bed, and Qing Hang quickly reacted by stepping on its tail. He picked it up by the tail, but the rat struggled violently. Cheng Wanyue was so scared that she leaned back, causing the chair to slide slightly, and she ended up sitting on the overturned bowl of instant noodles.

“Ah! It’s so hot, my butt!”