◎Dark Chocolate◎
After hanging up the call, Chun Zao wanted to go directly to Yuan Ye using the WeChat address, but he refused, saying the place was still messy and chaotic, asking her to wait until the house was tidied up before coming over.
Was she really that delicate, like “frail Sister Lin Daiyu”?
Chun Zao suppressed her impatience and lay down for an afternoon nap as usual, but tossed and turned, unable to sleep at all.
The house was empty, and outside the window, dense shade swayed like slate-green waves. She simply got up, turned off the air conditioning, unplugged her charging phone, put on a sun-protective jacket, and went out.
After spending a fortune at the supermarket near the residential complex entrance on daily necessities and snacks, Chun Zao carried the large bag of items across the crosswalk to Yuan Ye’s new residential complex.
The security guard pointed out Building 6’s location. She thanked him and pulled her hat down a bit lower.
This year’s summer in Yi City came earlier than usual. It was only early June, but the air seemed saturated with sweat, thick and muggy, and so were people.
By the time she reached the bottom of Building 6, Chun Zao’s face was already flushed red from the heat. This complex had mostly mid-rise buildings. She found Yuan Ye’s unit number and pressed the doorbell twice.
Someone quickly answered from above: “Hello, who is it?”
Chun Zao deliberately pinched her nose, creating an unnatural tone: “Hello, I’m a resident of this building. I didn’t bring my hallway key, could you please help me open the door?”
She was immediately exposed.
The boy’s laughter came through the electrical building intercom, once, low and brief, refreshingly cool.
But he didn’t immediately unlock the door, only saying: “Which floor do you live on? Do you have identification? For safety reasons, I can’t just open the door randomly.”
Chun Zao paused, took a light breath, and gave Yuan Ye’s apartment number: “1006.”
“Hm?” He got into character with her: “Isn’t that my home? Who are you to 1006?”
Chun Zao clenched her fist, enunciating each word: “1—0—0—6’s girlfriend.” The last three words made her too shy to speak clearly. She said them so fast they were mumbled and unclear, as if they hadn’t passed through her vocal cords and throat but just leaked out between her tongue and teeth.
The other party: “What? I didn’t hear clearly.”
Chun Zao finally shouted angrily: “Girlfriend!”
Yuan Ye laughed lightly twice.
Click, the door lock opened.
Heh.
Chun Zao smiled coldly inside, various adjectives related to “childish” bouncing around. She entered the elevator, took off her sun jacket’s hood, fanned herself with her hand, then seriously arranged her bangs, combing her hair with her knuckles.
Her hair ends were dark and hot, scraping against her neck and shoulders uncomfortably.
It was too late for regrets. In this weather, still wearing her hair down—she was asking for trouble, bringing it on herself.
But for beauty, she endured.
When the elevator doors opened, Chun Zao’s eyes widened. She hadn’t expected Yuan Ye to already be waiting outside. As the doors expanded to both sides, the boy’s spreading smile gradually grew larger too.
Chun Zao looked away and walked out. She was petty—to retaliate against his deliberate rogue behavior upstairs just now, she pretended to be a stranger passing by.
Yuan Ye grabbed her arm: “Where are you running?”
He laughed and said, “Do you even know where 1006 is? Yet you’re running.”
Chun Zao rolled her eyes at him.
The boy’s warm fingers quickly slid down from the inside of her wrist, instantly becoming interlocked.
This action was like a binding spell—Chun Zao immediately stopped moving.
Yuan Ye naturally took the large bag from her with his other hand: “Is it heavy?”
Acting cute seemed to be a passive skill that automatically activated during eye contact. Chun Zao rarely acted like a little girl, pouting: “Super heavy.”
“Then why buy so much? It’s not like this is the first time living alone,” Yuan Ye took it and glanced toward the end of the hallway. “I have nothing here.”
“Oh,” he quickly contradicted himself: “There are things I don’t have.”
While talking, he pulled Chun Zao closer without explanation, everything unspoken.
Their arms immediately pressed together. Chun Zao tried to avoid it, but Yuan Ye pulled her back again, stubbornly not letting her get more than five centimeters away from him.
After entering the house, Chun Zao understood why Yuan Ye didn’t want her to come—indeed, there were still some furniture components not yet properly installed scattered on the living room floor, placed haphazardly, making walking like wading through rapids over rocks.
Yuan Ye pulled her along while kicking those things aside to clear a path for her.
The entire house wasn’t very large—a typical shotgun house with a two-bedroom, one-living-room layout, but it had a full south-facing floor-to-ceiling window. The afternoon sunlight streamed in very transparently, washing everything in exceptional soft brightness.
Chun Zao looked around: “Have the installers left?”
Yuan Ye settled her on the edge of the clean bedroom bed, went to get a can of chilled soda from the refrigerator, pulled the tab, and handed it to her: “Mm, hot?”
Chun Zao replied: “Hot.” She took a big sip and pointed outside: “Aren’t they going to install those things in the living room?”
Yuan Ye looked down at her: “Those are simple, I’ll do them myself.”
Chun Zao mentally estimated that all those things would take at least a day or two to finish, still worried: “Didn’t the landlord leave you any furniture?”
Yuan Ye sat beside her, hands propped behind him: “Some furniture was too old, I had him move it out.”
“You,” Chun Zao paused, “are quite particular.”
Yuan Ye’s tone was flat: “For whom?”