Chapter 86

*Campus IF Line — “A Secret Taste”*
In the sweltering height of summer, the air conditioner was set very low. Hot, damp breaths tangled together, and in the sealed space, faint, intermittent sounds of lips meeting could be heard all too clearly.
Xie Yuncheng leaned half back against the sofa. One hand supported her slender waist; the other naturally cradled the back of her neck. Sitting on his lap, her skirt lay against the soft fabric of his suit pants. Her lowered lashes were long and fine, fluttering restlessly like butterfly wings damp with rain.
She couldn’t help letting out two muffled, stifled sounds. She frowned, resisting, her words blurred and indistinct. “It doesn’t feel good.”
Kissing didn’t feel good at all.
If Liu Chengcheng asked her the same question again, that would be her answer.
She felt awful—awful everywhere.
Her breathing wasn’t her own. Her mouth wasn’t her own. Her body had turned strange, as if in an instant she’d gone from being its owner to being controlled—suddenly stripped of all agency.
Qin Sang’s cheeks were flushed, her eyes glossy with spring-bright color. She hugged her arms tightly, accusing him with her gaze.
“Y-you… you’re too much.”
The boy let out a low laugh. The usually cool, indifferent brows and eyes were stained with a vivid heat; when he smiled, there was a dazzling charm to him—dangerously alluring.
When his fingertips touched her skin, she shuddered all over. A tingling numbness shot across her scalp; even her eyelids twitched beyond her control.
Xie Yuncheng didn’t seem to care in the slightest. He tugged the corner of his mouth and, with slow, deliberate fingers, brushed over her. He chuckled softly. “Sang-sang, do you want to see something even more ‘too much’?”
“No.”
What little awareness she had left was nearly teased away. She pushed at him, but had no defense.
…
Qin Sang’s mind was a mess, like a pot of paste. Her hands were numb; they didn’t feel like her own.
Standing at the sink, watching water run slowly over her palms, she suddenly thought of spring’s rampant vigor—life swelling and swelling, then bursting up through the soil.
He leaned against the sofa, watching her with focused attention. His gaze was hidden—restrained, cautious—yet gradually, even those noble, languid brows and eyes were commandeered by desire, sweeping over her again and again, stealing what little oxygen she had left.
His breath came fast. Damp heat brushed her earlobe, her neck. His trembling lips fell to her collarbone—devout, earnest, as if worshiping a deity.
“Sang-sang.”
Later on, all she remembered was that hoarse voice by her ear calling her name—so lingering, so tender.
Half-conscious, Qin Sang lifted her eyelids to look at him. A dim blue light struck from the side, sliding over the boy’s cool, clear brows and eyes.
She stared, entranced—like she had accidentally stepped into his trap. When she slipped off the sofa, he caught her: one hand protecting the back of her head, the other guarding her waist.
They landed on the carpet. Qin Sang sucked in a cold breath.
“Sss.”
Xie Yuncheng lowered his gaze to her. Seeing her look up at him, dazed and innocent, he couldn’t help but laugh softly, stroking the back of her head. “Are you okay?”
Qin Sang pressed her lips together and gave a small nod.
When she fell, he’d protected her head, and they’d landed on the carpet—so it didn’t really hurt. It was just that her mind was foggy and heavy, pulsing and dull, hard to wake up fully.
…
In the sticky heat of summer, curtains drawn tight shut out every shred of light.
In the intoxicating darkness, she hazily remembered how the Bible recorded Adam as the world’s first man, and how Jehovah created Eve from one of his ribs.
Naive Eve was tempted by the serpent, led into a trap, and stole the forbidden fruit.
That slick, clinging sensation spread across skin.
At eighteen, you had endless energy and the fiercest, most blooming curiosity.
She was like an innocent girl seduced step by step, opening Pandora’s box, stepping into a forbidden forest, plucking a red apple from the Tree of Life—vivid, juicy.
She tried to take a bite, and the juice burst forth.
Led along in a daze, she tried to explore the mysteries of life.
…
The boy’s collar lay in disarray, yet he still looked neat—remarkably handsome and refined.
But as he kissed her fingers, holding them like a cherished treasure he’d finally claimed, only his hoarse, indistinct voice reminded her of what had just happened.
“Do you really have to go back?”
Xie Yuncheng toyed with the girl’s soft hand. Her hand was thin—she was thin everywhere: arms, legs, with hardly any flesh. Her palm had a faint layer of callus, probably from doing work since childhood. Yet that slightly rough touch was strangely impossible to let go of.
He still wasn’t willing to give up, trying to coax her into staying—staying here, inside the cage he’d carefully built.
Maybe from the very first moment he saw her, he’d been plotting for this day.
He didn’t even know where this obsession came from, as if it had sunk into his bones and been carved into his heart.
He needed her there—within sight—able to see her, to feel her warmth, to know she truly existed, so that the emptiness and loneliness that could never be filled might be eased, even a little.
Qin Sang’s voice was muffled. “You promised my dad—you’d get me home before curfew.”
She sensed faintly that it would be dangerous to stay longer, and if she didn’t get home on time, her parents would worry.
Xie Yuncheng curled his lip. “Then I really regret agreeing so easily.”
“You can’t go back on your word,” Qin Sang said softly. “My dad will worry.”
Xie Yuncheng drew out his words with lazy amusement. “So good…”
She was too good—living by every rule and doctrine. Her world had been thoroughly domesticated down to the last inch.
She wouldn’t resist anyone. At school she was the obedient good student; at home, the sensible good child.
Xie Yuncheng laughed low. “Got it. I’ll take you home on time. But before that…”
He paused, the darkness in his eyes deepening. “Sang-sang, I’m going to collect a little interest—consider it a reward for being ‘good.’”
Afterward, Qin Sang was so sleepy she could barely open her eyes. The result of being overstimulated was a baffling exhaustion once it ebbed.
At 9:15, Xie Yuncheng brought her to her front door. She let him lead her out of the car, obedient. Her dress had already been tidied. Her curled hair covered her neck. She looked no different from when she’d left.
When they went in, Xie Yuncheng was proper as a “good student.” He greeted Qin Sang’s parents first. Qin Dahai, however, was distinctly displeased and snorted. “I said to bring Sang-sang back before nine. You’re late.”
Before they went out, Qin Dahai had already reminded him: their curfew was 9 p.m. Before nine, he had to bring Qin Sang home safely.
Xie Yuncheng went along with it and apologized. “It’s my fault. I made Uncle and Aunt worry. I promise it won’t happen again.”
“You still want a next time?” Qin Dahai bristled instantly. “Brat, don’t think I don’t know what you’re up to!”
Qin Sang’s face turned crimson all at once. She explained in a muffled rush, “Dad, it’s not like that. On the way back, there happened to be a traffic accident ahead of us, so we were delayed a bit.”
She wasn’t lying. When they got off the highway into Ningjiang, the road was narrow, and two cars had scraped each other. The owners argued for a long time and even called the traffic police to handle it. They waited ages, which was why they were delayed.
Qin Dahai looked skeptical. “Really?”
Qin Sang nodded hard. “Really.”
Hearing that, Qin Dahai’s expression eased slightly. But facing Xie Yuncheng, he still didn’t look pleased.
With a sour face, Qin Dahai warned, “Fine, if it was a special situation this time, I’ll let it go. But I’m warning you—keep your hands proper, keep your thoughts honest. If you dare to secretly bully Sang-sang, I absolutely won’t let you off. Understand?”
Restrained but courteous, the curve of Xie Yuncheng’s lips was just right. “Uncle, rest assured. I would never dare bully Sang-sang. To me, Sang-sang is more important than my life. I will never let her suffer even the slightest grievance.”
The words might have sounded frivolous, yet his expression was so serious that it was impossible to dismiss his attitude or doubt his intentions.
At first Qin Dahai was extremely displeased—after all, Xie Yuncheng was coveting his precious daughter. But as time went on, he had to accept that his daughter was grown; naturally, she would attract all kinds of eager suitors.
That summer when she was eighteen, Xie Yuncheng came in and out of Qin Sang’s home frequently. Sometimes he helped Wen Shuyu with chores; sometimes he went fishing with Qin Dahai, mixing bait and setting the spot, then carrying a bucket back full. He seemed to know everything—chess, calligraphy, painting. Qin Dahai went from indignant resentment to slowly accepting his presence.
Occasionally, when Xie Yuncheng went fishing with Qin Dahai, a fishing buddy would tease, “Hey, Old Qin—since when did you get such an obedient son?”
“Get lost,” Qin Dahai snapped. “What son? This is…”
Qin Dahai didn’t know how to introduce his identity, and he didn’t want to link Xie Yuncheng to his daughter in front of others.
Xie Yuncheng understood and smoothed it over. “I’m the son of Uncle Qin’s friend. My parents are away on business these days, and there’s no one at home, so I’m staying at Uncle Qin’s place for part of the summer.”
Qin Dahai gave him a surprised look, then took the offered out. “Right, that’s it. This kid is just staying with us for a while. Once Tsinghua starts, he’ll go back to the capital.”
The fishing buddy was shocked. “Tsinghua? You’re a Tsinghua student?”
Xie Yuncheng nodded, not denying it.
“Oh my—Old Qin!” The buddy got excited instantly. “Your friend’s son is incredible! Getting into Tsinghua—now that’s a top university! A real high achiever!”
Qin Dahai felt an inexplicable swell of pride. “Getting in? He was recommended—didn’t even take the gaokao.”
The gaokao had just ended; it was summer break. The other anglers gathered around and praised Qin Dahai’s good fortune, praising how impressive his friend’s son was.
Qin Dahai basked in it, not hiding his pride, even boasting that not only had he been recommended into Tsinghua, but in the future he would also be a researcher working at an aerospace institute.
It seemed that from then on, Qin Dahai’s attitude toward Xie Yuncheng softened a lot, and he began to turn a blind eye to Xie Yuncheng and Qin Sang spending time together.
He did often stay with Qin Sang, but their private time wasn’t very long. To avoid making Qin Dahai suspicious, he was careful.
But sometimes, he would simply stand and cage her as she sat on the desk, or hide behind the door. Behind her parents’ backs, he would lose control, pressing her down to taste and shape her in slow detail—intimate, lingering kisses.
Her kissing skill was almost entirely cultivated by his hand—like a peach just barely ripe, giving off a tempting sweet scent.
That summer, her days were chaotic, yet deeply satisfying. Every night she would see him off. At the corner by the alley, he held her hand—warm and steady. They walked along the familiar blue-stone street. In the courtyard, pomegranates had ripened, heavy red fruit bowing the branches.
On bright summer nights under clean moonlight, cicadas sang in waves, stretching their interlaced shadows long as they walked together.
Sometimes, when the moonlight shifted and slipped into the darkness of a street corner, he would rest his forehead against hers, breathing unevenly, his tone half helpless, half aching. “Sang-sang… when will it be allowed?”