◎“I like you. I like you a lot.”◎
Lan Yan could not endure the fatigue from the long journey that had lasted over a dozen hours and finally fell asleep in the car.
She woke because she suddenly felt the car jolt. She struggled to open her dry eyelids and glanced around. The car was passing over the speed bump at the garage entrance.
Drowsiness kept her head tilted to the side without moving. The white light from the garage ceiling made her squint involuntarily.
“Awake?”
Lan Yan sluggishly let out an “Mm,” puzzled at how Liang Jingchuan had noticed when her face was clearly turned toward the car window.
The car wound through the maze-like underground garage for a while before coming to a stop.
Liang Jingchuan turned off the engine, opened the car door, and went to the back to retrieve the luggage.
Lan Yan fought off the bone-deep weariness spreading through her body, put on her half-removed down jacket, got out, opened the rear door, and picked up the backpack on the seat.
Just as she was about to sling it over her shoulder, Liang Jingchuan reached out.
She handed it to him without a second’s hesitation.
She stuffed both hands into the pockets of her down jacket and followed behind him with her neck slightly hunched.
When the wheels of the luggage stopped, Liang Jingchuan abruptly halted and turned around, seemingly amused. “Don’t you know to zip up if you’re cold?”
Lan Yan’s hands felt glued to the warm pockets. For some reason, her whole body resisted doing anything besides walking.
Liang Jingchuan looped the backpack strap over the luggage handle and stepped right up to her.
He lowered his head, grasped the end of the zipper, and pulled it closed.
Lan Yan blinked sluggishly and lifted her eyelids.
Liang Jingchuan’s eyes were downcast, his thick, feather-like lashes casting pale gray shadows below his eyelids.
Why did this man have such long, beautiful lashes? Her mind seemed even less able to turn.
The zipper zipped all the way to the top with a whoosh, the collar standing up and covering even her chin.
Lan Yan glared at him.
He chuckled, then pulled the zipper back down a bit to her collarbone. “Better now, Missy?”
Lan Yan gloomily let out an “Mm.”
It was past three in the morning. They went from the garage to the elevator without encountering a third person.
Lan Yan saw Liang Jingchuan press the button for “3” and asked, “You live on the third floor?”
“Mm.”
“Doesn’t a low floor mean poor lighting?”
“It’s fine.”
The elevator reached the third floor. Lan Yan dragged her heavy steps behind Liang Jingchuan. When he stopped in front of a door, she looked up at the number: 303.
Her birthday was March 3rd.
The door unlocked with a fingerprint. After a beep, the sound of the lock tongue clicking open rang out. Liang Jingchuan pushed the door open.
A wave of warm air, mixed with a faint fragrance, brushed against their faces.
Liang Jingchuan wheeled the luggage inside. “I didn’t tidy up before leaving; it’s a bit messy.”
He opened the shoe cabinet door, his expression troubled.
Then, as if remembering something, he opened a drawer, rummaged inside, and pulled out a pair of disposable slippers for travel. He tore them open and tossed them at her feet. “They might be a bit big. Try them first. If not, I’ll go buy some.”
At that moment, Lan Yan confirmed that inviting her to stay over had been a spur-of-the-moment decision for him. Otherwise, with his personality, he would have prepared suitable slippers.
The indoor heating was strong. Lan Yan took off her down jacket, and Liang Jingchuan took it and hung it in the cabinet by the shoe cabinet.
The slippers were similar to those in hotels, a bit big, but they didn’t hinder walking.
Lan Yan passed through the entryway and took in the full layout of the apartment. It was a loft. Right at the entrance were the bathroom and a semi-open kitchen. Further in was the living room, and the space under the second-floor platform had been turned into a study.
The overall color scheme was white, accented with wooden furniture.
Her gaze paused.
On the white wall beside the TV hung the calligraphy scroll she had restored: “See the Lotus Pure, Know the Mind Unstained.”
“ Hungry?” Liang Jingchuan’s voice came from the entryway behind her. “Want something to eat?”
“It’s almost four. By the time we eat, it’ll be dawn.”
“Then treat it as breakfast. Eat and sleep the whole day.”
Lan Yan was actually a bit swayed by the suggestion. “If there’s something easy to make, I’ll have a little.”
“There are udon noodles.”
“Okay.”
“You can take a shower first. Then eat and go straight to sleep.”
“Okay.”
Liang Jingchuan pushed her luggage to the living room, laid it flat for easy access, rolled up his sleeves, and headed to the kitchen.
Lan Yan opened the luggage, rummaged through it, and continued surveying the space.
A gray blanket draped over the sofa, several books and stacks of documents scattered on the desk. Otherwise, nothing seemed messy.
He had been like this in high school too—his room always impeccably tidy, making even her, who prided herself on neatness, feel inferior.
Her clothes were sorted into separate bags by category, easy to find quickly.
Lan Yan grabbed her pajamas and toiletries and walked to the bathroom door.
In the kitchen, Liang Jingchuan had just started boiling water. He came over, opened the door, and flipped several switches by the door. The lights and heating turned on together, and the warm air blower hummed out heat.
Liang Jingchuan pointed out the locations of the shower supplies, hairdryer, and so on one by one. Then he opened a drawer in the vanity cabinet and searched. “I don’t have extra bath towels…”
Lan Yan pointed to a gray bath towel hanging on the electric towel rack nearby. “Can’t that one be used?”
“…Sure.”
Liang Jingchuan closed the drawer, turned, and left the bathroom. “Call me if you need anything.”
“Mm.”
Lan Yan locked the door behind her and exhaled. The heating was so strong she felt a little short of breath.
It wasn’t the first time sharing a bathroom space.
The bathroom was dry-wet separated. She washed her face first, then stripped off her clothes and entered the glass-enclosed shower area.
The niche held a set of three shower products in white bottles with a familiar logo.
The warm air kept the space from steaming up.
The hot water washed away some fatigue. Lan Yan wiped the fog from the mirror, plugged in the hairdryer, and dried her hair.
Her pajamas were a top-and-bottom set, perfectly proper. She had just forgotten to grab underwear when she came in.
After hesitating a moment, Lan Yan opened the door and went out.
The kitchen and living room were separated by a half-height partition that extended outward into a bar counter doubling as a dining table.
The udon noodles were already cooked. Liang Jingchuan sat there.
She kept her eyes straight ahead, went directly to the living room, pulled a knitted cardigan from her luggage and put it on, then walked over to Liang Jingchuan.
Blow-drying her hair had taken time; the bowl of udon noodles had lost much of its steam.
She picked up the chopsticks. Liang Jingchuan glanced over and asked, “Need me to reheat it?”
“No need, it’s still hot.”
She buried herself in eating the noodles. Liang Jingchuan said nothing, a faint weariness visible on his face.
“…Thanks for the trouble today.”
“It’s not like there’s always a chance.”
Liking someone made even being troubled by them sweet.
“Aren’t you eating?” Lan Yan glanced at him.
“Not hungry.”
It was really too late. Lan Yan sped up, finished quickly, and went to brush her teeth in the bathroom.
When she came out, Liang Jingchuan had just finished cleaning the kitchen.
Lan Yan hesitated a bit, about to ask where she should sleep, when Liang Jingchuan pointed upstairs. “Go rest.”
“…Where will you sleep?”
“The sofa.”
“…I feel a bit bad.”
Liang Jingchuan chuckled. “Feeling bad now? Isn’t it a little late for that?”
He knew exactly how to dispel her concerns with one sentence.
“Then I’ll go sleep.”
Liang Jingchuan nodded and pointed to the switch at the base of the stairs, telling her the upstairs lighting location.
Lan Yan didn’t stand on ceremony anymore. She grabbed her charger, turned on the upstairs light, and climbed the wooden stairs to the second floor.
The space was half the size of the first floor, with only a bed and wardrobe.
The bed was a platform style with light gray bedding, neatly made.
There was a charger right by the bed, the port matching. Lan Yan plugged in her phone, took off her cardigan, lifted the thin blanket, lay down, and reached up to turn off the overhead light.
The flannel cotton felt soft and carried the scent of laundry detergent.
Her body was exhausted, yet sleep evaded her. She closed her eyes, rolled over, and heard footsteps on the stairs.
She opened her eyes. The downstairs light silhouetted Liang Jingchuan’s figure; he held a glass.
He came over, set the glass of water on the bedside table without looking at her, said “Sleep soon,” and went back the way he came.
Soon, the living room’s main light went out, the electric curtains drew closed, and only faint light came from the entryway—probably the bathroom, where Liang Jingchuan was still washing up. The light was dim, unlikely to disturb sleep.
Provided she could fall asleep.
Not long after, even that faint light vanished. Soft footsteps headed to the living room and stopped.
The space fell into complete silence.
Lan Yan tossed and turned several times, then remembered she hadn’t used the toilet before going upstairs. Some people felt insecure without emptying their bladder before bed, and Lan Yan was a prime example.
She picked up her phone from beside her, used its screen light to see, quietly got up, slipped on her slippers, and took two steps when Liang Jingchuan’s voice came from downstairs: “Need anything?”
“…I want to use the toilet.” Lan Yan felt awkward.
Liang Jingchuan didn’t respond, only chuckled softly. The next moment, the floor lamp by the sofa lit up, like an artificial moon in the darkness.
Lan Yan carefully descended the stairs. “…Don’t you think living in a loft is inconvenient?”
“I think so now.” Liang Jingchuan laughed.
Lan Yan finished in the bathroom, turned off the light, and came out.
Her eyes couldn’t adjust to the dim light right away, so she moved slowly, skirting the sofa to reach the stairs.
The oversized slippers didn’t fit well. As she stepped out, her big toe thudded painfully, and she immediately hissed.
“What happened?” Liang Jingchuan rose quickly from the sofa and walked toward her.
“…Stubbed my toe.” Lan Yan crouched and clutched it.
Liang Jingchuan flipped the switch; the upstairs light came on. He bent down at once, his expression grave as he examined her foot.
“It’s fine, not very painful…”
Liang Jingchuan’s lips pressed tight. Without a word, he pressed her shoulder to make her sit on the stairs, crouched, grasped her ankle, lifted her foot onto his knee, and inspected it carefully with lowered eyes.
No blood under the nail; it was probably okay. He looked up at Lan Yan. “Still hurt?”
“No. Just that moment. It was just a light bump. I’m fine.”
“…Sorry. I should’ve taken you to a hotel.”
“Hotels don’t have udon noodles.”
Liang Jingchuan’s lips curved as if to smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. He lowered his head and said softly, “It’s not just that reason. I overestimated myself. I thought I could sleep with you here.”
As those words landed, Lan Yan suddenly felt the touch of his fingers on her ankle sharpen into focus.
She restrained herself from moving, as Liang Jingchuan seemed entirely unaware.
From the moment they entered the apartment, she had deliberately avoided any possibility of intimacy, but simply sharing the space made the air slowly heat up without cease.
The one-footed stance couldn’t hold long. Lan Yan had to brace her arm back on the stair for balance.
This subtle movement finally seemed to remind Liang Jingchuan.
He paused noticeably, then released her hand.
Lan Yan immediately drew her leg back.
“You…”
“I…”
They spoke at the same time.
“…Why don’t you sleep upstairs, and I’ll take the sofa.” Lan Yan said.
Liang Jingchuan looked up at her, seemingly speechless for a moment.
He said nothing, lowered his eyes, removed the slipper from her other foot. “I cleaned this morning; the floor’s clean. Just go up barefoot.”
“The bedsheets…”
“I’ll wash them.”
Lan Yan nodded, braced her palm on the wooden step, and stood. Just as she turned to go up, her wrist was suddenly gripped.
Her heart leaped.
With a click, the upstairs switch turned off. Along with the dimness came Liang Jingchuan’s approaching breath.
The floor lamp by the sofa still glowed, but by the stairs, it had dimmed to faint moonlight.
Just enough to outline his features.
Liang Jingchuan stood at a position one step lower than hers, closing the height gap between them. He lowered his head, and her gaze almost directly fell into his deep eyes, with no escape.
From the moment her wrist was grabbed, Lan Yan’s breathing hitched, her heart jolted in shock, and her blood surged.
Warm breaths hovered just above the tip of her nose, now deep, now shallow.
Her mind went blank, her eyes darted downward in panic, fixing on his collarbone, where she inevitably saw his Adam’s apple bob slightly.
The air burned like a prairie fire, stealing away the oxygen and leaving her feeling suffocated.
It was as if, countless times in the past, he had blocked her path in the hallway, at the bathroom door… no matter the place, it had all been rehearsals for this moment.
She heard a heavy breath, and her wrist was released, only for that hand to circle behind her and press against her back.
She collided straight into his embrace, and in that instant, her heart plummeted from a cliff’s height.
The next moment, Liang Jingchuan lowered his head further, his chin resting on her shoulder as he took a deep breath, like a drowning man surfacing.
Lan Yan’s body stiffened, at a complete loss.
Her heart raced too fast, bringing a painful sensation as if her blood supply were insufficient.
“Yanyan…”
Liang Jingchuan’s voice was so hoarse it was barely audible.
She wanted to respond but made no sound. She heard him continue, “If I… would you push me away?”
“…I don’t know.”
Liang Jingchuan’s breathing grew even heavier.
One such action had already exhausted all his courage. Moreover, hugging her was hardly a better choice, for her entire body had gone soft, pressed against his chest.
It obliterated the last remnants of his ability to think.
No one spoke again; only the sounds of breathing and heartbeats remained.
In the silence, they lost all sense of time, with only the warmth of their skin and breaths continuing to rise.
Lan Yan’s legs grew a little weak, and her body dipped downward.
Liang Jingchuan seemed to notice and tightened his arms around her.
Suddenly, she sensed something faintly pressing against her.
Almost simultaneously, Liang Jingchuan released his arms, and all restraint vanished.
He stepped back, his voice somewhat lacking its usual composure. “…Go rest.”
“…Mm.”
Lan Yan turned and went upstairs, forced to lean on the stair railing. She knew her steps were uneven, and she nearly stubbed her toe again on the platform.
—His home was just like him, full of traps everywhere.
The moment she collapsed onto the bed, the world still spun around her.
She lay on her side, curling up tightly, her knees pressed against her stomach.
The living room floor lamp went out, plunging the space back into complete darkness.
She didn’t know how much time passed.
“Yanyan.” His voice came from downstairs.
Her heart, still unsettled, pounded like a drum at the slightest disturbance.
“…What?”
“Have I never said it to you properly?”
Said what?
In the instant she had a premonition, his voice rang out again. “I like you. I like you a lot.”
It felt like the intense weightlessness of a roller coaster ride.
“…Are you going to let me sleep or not?” After a long silence, she finally spoke, trying to make her tone sound fierce.
He chuckled softly.
He asked again, “At least you don’t hate me, right?”
Lan Yan didn’t respond.
It was as if he didn’t care whether he got an answer or not.
Lan Yan pulled the blanket up over her head. “…You’re really annoying.”
“I didn’t hear that. Annoying, or troublesome?”
“…Both!”
“Oh.” He laughed. “I’m honored.”