OS - 20

It took Zhou Yu a while to gather herself. She lifted the shirt draped over her and glanced down—her wet clothes clung tightly to her skin, making the color of her undergarments clearly visible.

Cheng Yuzhou’s shadow on the ground conveniently enveloped Zhou Yu in shade as he wrung water from his clothes, revealing the sleek lines of his back and waist. Zhou Yu felt a sudden rush of heat to her face. Quickly, she slipped on the shirt and buttoned it all the way to the top.

They missed seeing the fishing boats and the sunset.

The sky grew dim, and the evening glow cast an orange-red hue. Filtered through the curtains, it created a dreamy, hazy effect. Water still lingered in Zhou Yu’s ears, creating faint sounds with every movement. Standing in Cheng Yuzhou’s room, she waited until he knocked on the door and handed her a set of clothes.

The clothes belonged to Cheng Wanyue—brightly colored—and included a fresh towel.

Grandma wasn’t home, so Cheng Yuzhou used the washroom downstairs. After changing, he brought the hairdryer upstairs. Zhou Yu’s hair was filled with sand and dirt, making it difficult to wash. She also gave her undergarments a quick scrub, spending nearly twenty minutes washing everything.

Zhou Yu stood there, troubled by her dripping wet undergarments. Not wearing them wasn’t an option, but putting them on would soak through Cheng Wanyue’s clothes.

A knock came from outside. Feeling she had already taken too long, Zhou Yu decided to just put them on quickly.

Cheng Yuzhou didn’t rush her, simply saying, “I left the hairdryer by the door.”

“Okay,” Zhou Yu replied softly.

After Cheng Yuzhou left, Zhou Yu opened the door, retrieved the hairdryer, and dried her undergarments first. Once dressed, she hung her damp clothes on the balcony to dry.

Cheng Yuzhou was downstairs. He looked up and saw Zhou Yu on the balcony before heading upstairs.

As soon as he opened the door, a faint, sweet fragrance greeted him. She had used his shampoo and body wash, scents he was accustomed to, but there was an additional hint—a uniquely feminine sweetness that lingered in the air.

The loud hum of the hairdryer drowned out other sounds. The sky darkened further, making the evening glow appear even brighter.

A beam of light illuminated the edge of the bed. Stretching out her hand, her skin seemed to glow with a soft blush.

Cheng Yuzhou rummaged through the drawer for a bandage. There were two scratch marks on his neck where the boy had grabbed him underwater. The wounds had broken the skin, drawing blood. At the time, he hadn’t felt pain, but the sensation hit him during his shower.

When the hairdryer stopped, Cheng Yuzhou looked up to find Zhou Yu watching him.

The moisture from the bathroom had evaporated into the air, leaving the atmosphere humid and stifling. An unspoken tension quietly brewed between their locked gazes.

“You stuck it on crooked,” she pointed at his neck. “Move it a little farther back.”

He casually tore off the bandage and reapplied it carelessly. “Like this?”

There was no mirror in the room. Zhou Yu set down the hairdryer and walked over to reapply it for him.

Cheng Yuzhou sat on a chair, while Zhou Yu stood behind him. Water droplets from her hair slid down his neck, tracing along his spine to his lower back. It felt cool against his skin.

“Shouldn’t we disinfect it first? The river water isn’t clean—it could get infected.”

“There’s a bottle of 75% alcohol in the drawer.”

Zhou Yu found it, dipped a cotton swab, and applied it to the wound. The sting of alcohol caused a sharp burning sensation, prompting a hoarse groan from Cheng Yuzhou.

“Does it hurt a lot? Bear with it.”

“Mm,” Cheng Yuzhou became more alert as the persistent stinging cleared his mind. Otherwise, he might have imagined her hand following the trail of water down his back. “You owe me thanks for saving your life.”

Zhou Yu smiled. “His mother will come tomorrow with milk and fruit to thank you.”

Cheng Yuzhou “….”

After applying the bandage, Zhou Yu picked up the hairdryer again and went to the balcony to dry her clothes. Occasionally, the warm breeze brushed against Cheng Yuzhou, stirring a subtle heat within him.

Feeling the clothes were almost dry, Zhou Yu took them off the rack. The last remnants of twilight faded into darkness. Without turning on the lights, she turned around to find Cheng Yuzhou still leaning by the window. As she looked at him, he was looking at her too.

Zhou Yu felt slightly uncomfortable. She rarely wore skirts because they were inconvenient, and Cheng Wanyue’s skirt barely reached her knees.

Cheng Yuzhou knew she needed to change and that he should leave the room. However, the burning sensation from the wound on his neck kept him restless. The fluttering hem of her skirt felt like it was repeatedly brushing against his heart. This was the work of hormones—like adrenaline, the hormone that revives those on the brink of death. The brain responds to its excessive secretion by signaling the body to restore normal heart rate. Though seemingly simple, the mechanism is complex, with the brain playing a regulatory role, diminishing its capacity for other thoughts in the process.

“Have you considered liking someone else?” The words slipped out before his brain could filter them.

Her eyes widened in surprise at his question. Before Cheng Yuzhou could discern whether she had blushed in the ensuing silence, the feverish burn on his skin urged him to take a step closer.

The moment he moved, Zhou Yu stepped back, stopping only when her lower back pressed against the balcony railing.

She thought she had hidden her feelings so well—had she been discovered?

The air outside wasn’t much better than inside. After a full day of sun, the oppressive heat would linger for another two or three hours. Cheng Yuzhou repeated his question: “Zhou Yu, have you considered liking someone else?”

He watched as she shook her head.

“I mean… consider it first. I’m not asking you to confess to someone right now.”

Zhou Yu said, “I’ve already considered it many times. I don’t want to change.”

Cheng Yuzhou patiently urged, “Think about it more. A month, or even a week. How can anyone make decisions as rashly as you? You barely spent a minute considering it.”

“I’ve thought about it countless times, for many minutes,” Zhou Yu replied firmly. “I don’t want to change.”

Suddenly, the courtyard lights flickered on—Madam Qian had returned.

Without a word, Cheng Yuzhou turned and walked downstairs. Zhou Yu went into the room to change. Faintly, she could hear Madam Qian asking what he wanted for dinner. His reply was curt: “I’m full on air.”

The old woman chuckled and patted his back before heading into the kitchen to wash vegetables.

After changing back into her own clothes, Zhou Yu went downstairs and greeted Grandma Qian. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Cheng Yuzhou standing in the courtyard, kicking a soccer ball idly. The sound of the ball hitting the wall grew louder.

Madam Qian called out from inside, “Zizai, the streetlights haven’t turned on yet. Walk Zhou Yu home.”

Zhou Yu murmured softly, “No need.”

Cheng Yuzhou didn’t look at her and walked out of the courtyard first.

Yan Ci watched silently as the two figures emerged one after another from the large red door. Zhou Yu’s loose hair partially obscured her view, and she only noticed Yan Ci when she got closer.

He was smoking again—and coughing.

Cheng Yuzhou stopped and said to Zhou Yu, “Go ahead and head back.”

Zhou Yu nodded. “Okay.”

Not until her figure disappeared around the corner did Yan Ci shift his gaze to Cheng Yuzhou’s face. “Are you two close?”

Cheng Yuzhou replied, “Closer than I am to you.”