Chapter Three Wait a Little Longer
The question made Mo Qinghan’s mind instantly “explode,” her cheeks flushing with embarrassment at the suddenness of it, the blush spreading all the way to her neck. He Zheyu was quite pleased with Mo Qinghan’s reaction; a faint smile played on his lips before he leaned down, pouring all the words he wanted to say into a kiss.
Mo Qinghan didn’t know how to respond. She had no idea that kissing required breathing, and her little face turned scarlet from holding her breath—any longer, and she might have turned purple. He Zheyu’s lips finally left hers, his breath a bit uneven as he said in a low voice, “Silly girl, you have to breathe.”
After Mo Qinghan took a few deep breaths and was about to say something, He Zheyu’s lips descended again. This time, the kiss was not as gentle or innocent as before—he wanted more, something beyond a simple kiss.
He Zheyu lightly bit Mo Qinghan’s earring, his breath unsteady as he asked, “Are you ready?”
Mo Qinghan’s hands, clenched tightly at her sides, gripped as if she were a warrior facing her final battle. She turned her face away and said nothing.
Receiving no response for a long moment, He Zheyu understood her meaning. He stopped, his voice a little weak as he said, “Go to sleep. The guest room.”
Mo Qinghan realized she’d said the wrong thing and wanted to explain, but He Zheyu simply patted her head gently and said, “Let’s wait a bit longer,” before heading into the bedroom.
Lying in bed, ready to sleep, Mo Qinghan’s phone suddenly chimed. She picked it up and opened QQ. It was a message from Sanye: “You look beautiful in Hanfu. White suits you very well.”
“I performed at the evening gala today and took a picture. I wanted to send it to you.”
Sanye: “How have you been lately?”
“Not much has changed. Have you come back?” Mo Qinghan replied.
Sanye: “Yes, I’m back! Is that person treating you well?”
“Pretty well! It’s late, get some rest.”
Sanye: “Good night.”
Mo Qinghan put her phone back in its place, closed her eyes, and soon fell asleep.
She and Sanye had become pen pals through an ad in Youth Digest. At first, they wrote letters, but later Sanye set up a QQ account for her. Mo Qinghan confided everything to Sanye, big or small, yet they had never met, and Sanye had never sent her a single photo.
Perhaps in real life, Mo Qinghan could never speak her true thoughts aloud; for her, Sanye was the only one who would listen, the only place she could truly be herself.
Winter mornings did not have the warmth of spring or summer, when gentle sunlight filled the room. Maybe it was because sleeping in a strange place made her brain resistant—unlike at school, she didn’t sleep in late when she had no morning classes.
Seeing ingredients in the fridge, she prepared breakfast and then walked to He Zheyu’s bedroom and knocked softly.
When He Zheyu opened the door in his loungewear, Mo Qinghan said, “Mr. He, breakfast is ready.”
Looking at the millet porridge and cold side dishes on the table, He Zheyu’s expression softened considerably.
Mo Qinghan, a bit nervous, said, “I can’t make Western food.”
“It’s good,” he replied.
After breakfast, Mo Qinghan cleaned every room. He Zheyu was reading on the small balcony, a pot of tea steeping on the little table beside him.
Realizing it was getting late, Mo Qinghan approached and said, “Mr. He, I need to go. I have class this afternoon.”
He Zheyu put a set of keys on the table. “I hope you’ll stay here on days when you don’t have morning classes. The place is taken care of regularly, and you won’t have to do the cleaning yourself anymore.”
“Will you be living here too?” As soon as she asked, Mo Qinghan regretted it.
He Zheyu didn’t answer her question directly.
“Do you want me to?”
Mo Qinghan picked up the keys, her face reddening, and left.
He Zheyu rather enjoyed teasing her like this. Raising his teacup, he took a sip, a wicked smile appearing on his lips—one that was almost too much to bear.