◎Trap◎
Was this what they called lifting a rock only to drop it on your foot?
Chun Zao stared at the emoji on her phone with an uncertain expression, going back to re-examine her message.
Had she been a bit too harsh and cold? She pondered, then changed her tone to something more gentle and diplomatic as damage control, but still, thank you for the milk. I’ll drink it when I have time later.
However, Yuan Ye didn’t respond to this message anymore.
If he wasn’t going to reply, then so be it. Would she lose sleep and appetite over such a trivial matter?
The answer was: yes.
For the next two days, Chun Zao would uncontrollably lose focus while writing drafts and wander around the tree-lined avenues and stands looking for Yuan Ye’s figure. The boy seemed to have stopped appearing altogether.
She had also indirectly asked Song Jin’an about Yuan Ye’s competition schedule, only to learn with disappointment that he had truly only registered for two events, both completed on the first morning of the sports meet.
Chun Zao confirmed repeatedly: “Ah? Just two?”
Song Jin’an showed a look of disbelief: “How many more did you want him to register for?”
Chun Zao stammered: “Just curious, considering he runs… so fast…”
Song Jin’an: “Are you from Class 1?”
Chun Zao: “…Never mind.”
After Friday evening study hall, Chun Zao sat in the living room drinking tomato tofu soup. When she had eaten almost half of it, the iron gate lock moved, and Yuan Ye walked in.
The boy was carrying a gray backpack, keys hanging lazily from his hand in a leisurely manner.
Their eyes met.
Chun Zao lowered her gaze and immediately raised her bowl higher, speeding up her stirring of the ingredients. Her chopsticks clinked against the bowl walls.
Yuan Ye paused in taking off his canvas shoes and glanced at her sideways.
The girl had already gotten up to return to her bedroom, closing the door with more force than usual.
He secretly curved the corner of his mouth, walked back to his room, casually threw his keys onto the desk, opened his phone, took a screenshot of a secondhand trading interface, clicked into his pinned friends list, and sent it over.
Then he pulled out a book, sat down with his legs spread wide, and waited leisurely.
The money trap worked perfectly. Twenty minutes later, the girl’s question popped up: Is this the income from my notes?
Yuan Ye replied: Mm, splitting the money. Ten copies sold for 200, 160 for you. Should I transfer it through QQ?
Chun Zao: No good, I don’t have a bank card linked, can’t withdraw it. Is it convenient to give me cash?
How inconvenient could it be?
He had predicted this.
Yuan Ye immediately grabbed the backpack hanging on the hook beside his desk, unzipped it, took out a stack of cash from the inner pocket, pulled out two pink bills, and replied OK: How should I give it to you?
Chun Zao: Wait until my mom’s asleep, then I’ll come out to get it from you.
Yuan Ye said: Alright.
Chun Zao paused her music, took off her earphones, and held her breath to pay attention to the situation outside.
Clutching her blanket corner and waiting quietly for ten minutes, confirming that Chun Chuzhen was most likely in deep sleep at this hour, she signaled Yuan Ye: Come out.
Footsteps sounded from across the wall. Chun Zao also moved to the door in advance to investigate, opening a crack. She saw the dark living room suddenly light up and then go out again – Yuan Ye had come out. She quickly opened the door panel to receive the approaching boy, preparing to complete their “money split” at the fastest speed possible.
Chun Zao extended her hand, speaking in a soft, quiet voice: “Give it to me.”
Yuan Ye took out two folded hundred-yuan bills from his hoodie pocket and handed them over.
He couldn’t help but examine her more closely during the exchange.
Girls would let their hair down before bed. This seemed to be the first time he’d seen Chun Zao with her hair down – the ends flowing softly over her shoulders, tucked behind her ears on both sides, making her earlobes appear even more delicate and pearly white.
Chun Zao skillfully rubbed open a corner of the bills, her fine eyebrows slightly furrowing: “Why is it two hundred?”
“The ATM doesn’t give out small bills,” Yuan Ye said, “and I hardly ever use cash.”
“Then I’ll give you change.”
Yuan Ye wanted to say “forget it,” but the girl very decisively turned back toward the desk. She took out a small coin purse from the drawer, pulled out two twenty-yuan bills, and walked back.
She rolled them into mini paper tube shapes and was about to raise her hand to give them to him when suddenly there was the sound of a door handle turning from the side.
Both froze instantly.
Yuan Ye’s first instinct was to turn and leave. But suddenly there was a gripping force on his arm, and he, who had been standing casually, was easily pulled inside the door frame. A breeze passed, and the girl smoothly extended her arm horizontally, pressing against the door panel. The movement could be described as flowing like clouds and water, completed in one breath.
The hurried sound of the closing door drew Chun Chuzhen’s sleepy eyes over.
The woman stopped and looked toward her daughter’s closed door, tentatively calling: “Chun Zao? Still not asleep?”
“Just went to the bathroom,” Chun Zao called back, “drank too much soup tonight.”
“Then I won’t make soup tomorrow,” Chun Chuzhen let out an enormous yawn and headed toward the washroom. “Go to sleep early – what time is it already!”
Chun Zao: “Oh!”
She weakly pressed her chest, breathing heavily, only then having the presence of mind to check on Yuan Ye by the door. The boy was leaning against the white wall, looking down at her with some mischief in his eyes. When he saw her looking over, he turned his face away.