Time ticked by, second by second.
Yudong’s sobs eventually faded, leaving only a faint tremble in her throat.
In the empty corridor, aside from the intermittent sounds of breathing, only the Hanging Clock ticked away—tick, tock, tick, tock.
There the two stood, not knowing how long they’d held each other in the corridor.
A small patch on Yezhe’s shirt, damp with Yudong’s tears, had already left a pale, white mark, slowly evaporating in the warm air.
Suddenly, the sound of a chair scraping broke the corridor’s silence.
Immediately after, a loud commotion came from upstairs.
Once that faded, the noise of footsteps and conversation followed.
The Banquet upstairs had ended.
Startled by the noise, Yudong visibly shuddered with a “bang!” First, the fingers clutching Yezhe’s shirt loosened, followed by her arms that had been wrapped around his back.
“Thank you!”
Her cheeks, which had been deathly pale, now blazed red, as if set aflame—flushed through and through.
The heat rushed up to her ears, turning her tender earlobes the same crimson in the blink of an eye.
Her fists clenched tightly, the sound of skin rubbing against skin unique and clear.
Her nails nearly dug into her flesh, leaving pale, distinct marks on her palms.
“Thank you,” the words flew by like a passing mosquito, but the pitch of the “you” soared skyward.
Forcing out these three words, Yudong dashed out without waiting for Yezhe’s reply, never looking back.
What was I just doing?!
He must hate me, he must hate me now. To force someone to hug me the first time we meet… I must seem like some kind of freak…
Who would want to work with a pervert? That’s definitely what he’s thinking now.
Aaaah…
Why did I have to do that just now?
As her reason returned, shame came flooding in right after.
With her head down, Yudong walked on, just wanting to rush out the door, but the sound of a Mobile Phone playing at the entrance formed an invisible barrier, keeping her inside the shop.
I shouldn’t have lost control of my emotions just now.
She pulled her Mobile Phone out from her pocket, unlocked the screen, and glanced at the time. It hadn’t even been two hours since she’d arrived…
Leaving now was way too early. If the Boss asked why, how would she explain it?
What should I do…?
No matter how she thought about it, there was no answer she wanted… She might as well go back.
Go back and apologize properly, at least so he wouldn’t hate her…
Her freshly loosened hand clenched once more, and, at a loss, the girl walked back toward the corridor she’d been trying to avoid.
What do I do, what do I do, what do I do… I should apologize properly, just say I lost control or something… No, that sounds too weird…
Taking a deep breath, her steps were as scattered as autumn leaves, and her head hung so low she couldn’t see the way ahead.
Since she didn’t dare look at his face, she decided simply not to look at all.
And so—
“You little lass, why aren’t you watching where you’re going?”
She crashed right into a customer coming downstairs.
“Hey, Old Li, don’t get so angry with the girl. Speak nicely—look, she’s already on the ground.”
The Old Li they spoke of was the middle-aged uncle reeking of alcohol who now stood in front of Yudong.
“All right, all right, I won’t hold it against her, I won’t.”
“Come on, let’s go, we’ve got somewhere else to be…”
Not sparing even a glance for Yudong, who lay sprawled on the floor, the group of old men slung their arms around each other’s shoulders and headed for the exit, laughter trailing behind them, the stench of alcohol lingering long in the corridor.
It hurts…
The man she’d crashed into had only stumbled back a few steps, but Yudong was a different story.
She’d been moving fast, and the man had the build of a small tank—she’d been knocked senseless.
It happened so suddenly. When Yudong was hit, her hands were still cradling her head, mind occupied with how to apologize to the boy. As she fell, she didn’t even have time to brace herself.
First her vision went black, then her backside hit the ground hard.
It hurts…
Not just her butt—after a loud “smack,” her entire back and the back of her head slammed against the floor.
In an instant, every nerve in her upper body fired pain signals to her brain.
The redness at the corner of her eye hadn’t faded, but tears welled up again from the fresh pain.
“Are you… all right?”
The boy’s clear and steady voice reached Yudong’s ears.
Her vision hadn’t yet focused, but she could vaguely see someone half-squatting beside her, hand outstretched.
Stunned from the collision, Yudong didn’t even know who it was at first—she simply grasped the offered hand reaching to help her up.
It was rough, broad, and warm.
Her fingertips hooked around his wrist, and she was gently, steadily pulled to her feet.
It was only once she stood that Yudong realized—the person before her was Yezhe.
As her gaze sharpened, the tearstain on Yezhe’s chest burned in her sight. It stung so much Yudong didn’t dare look him in the eye.
“I, I…” Yudong’s tongue twisted up, the redness in her cheeks and earlobes showing no sign of fading—if anything, it only deepened, making her dizzy and lightheaded.
In a panic, she yanked her hand back from Yezhe’s grip, head down, her messy bangs perfectly hiding her flustered gaze.
Through the gap in her fringe, Yudong stole a furtive glance at Yezhe.
“I’m sorry, I really am. For what I did to you before, and now for making you help me up…”
Yezhe could barely hear the first few words, and the rest of her voice grew smaller and smaller, until even Yudong herself couldn’t make out the last two.
“Ah, it’s nothing… it’s nothing, cough.”
Yezhe’s voice stuttered for a moment, then he gave an awkward cough. One hand tucked at his waist, the other repeatedly brushed through his hair.
In truth, there was no difference between Yezhe and Yudong at that moment.
When Yudong had let go and run off, Yezhe hadn’t even reacted in time, his hand frozen midair until he saw Yudong get knocked down in front of him, snapping him back to his senses and sending him dashing to her side.
The boy’s face was even redder than hers. The corridor’s dimness barely hid the change, but his earlobes blazed so bright he might as well have been lit up.
He could still feel the softness of her fingertips on his hand, and his shirt still carried the gentle warmth of her cheek.
That lingering, delicate warmth, mixed with her gentle breath, seeped through his shirt into his chest.
Even now, Yezhe’s heart was still pounding wildly, thumping like a frightened fawn against his ribs.
Once they both stood still, the atmosphere reverted to how it had been at the start—no more clamor from upstairs, only the ticking of the Hanging Clock and the ever-so-slightly more tangled sound of their breathing.
“Uh, if there’s nothing else, should we… should we go check out, um, the second floor?”
Yezhe clutched his shirt hem, breaking the silence. He whipped his head toward the other end of the corridor, body tense, unable to summon any strength. He hadn’t expected his face would turn so red!
Unlike Yudong, whose embarrassment felt like being scorched by fire, Yezhe felt as if someone had pressed a hot towel over his nose and mouth, each breath hotter and heavier.
He’d tried to breathe deep to calm himself, but it only made things worse.
“…Mm.”
Yudong still kept her head down, not daring to look at Yezhe, but her reply was at least a bit louder than before—at least she could hear herself this time.
“Let’s go.”
With a brief response, Yezhe quickly strode ahead—he definitely didn’t want Yudong to notice how flustered he was.