Chapter 14

Chen Hang looked at her. His voice, lowered to reduce strain on his throat due to illness, sounded a bit hoarse: "There's only plain water. Is that okay?"
"This is enough."
Luo Zhuowei watched Chen Hang sit on the sofa on the left, not on the long sofa with her, feeling her chest gripped by an emotion that was both relieved and disappointed.
...She was very nervous.
Rather, she was feeling nervous in front of a boy for the first time.
If it weren't for this rain, she definitely would have given up the moment she handed over the papers: Her plan to come visit had already used up almost all her reserve. If Lin Haoyuan hadn't pushed her with his provocation, she would have lost all courage even before leaving school.
When had she ever been so at a loss?
Their relationship was probably just in the "relatively close classmates" category to him. Her testing, because of inner shame, only stayed at a shallow level: She both wanted him to discover her feelings and didn't want him to see through this somewhat embarrassing emotion.
At this moment, she couldn't say a word. She could only carefully pick up the water cup and drink, trying to hide her awkwardness.
Silence really was a breeding ground for ambiguity. It was almost blatantly transmitting the signal of "two people alone" in the air. Combined with the rain outside, even the flow of atmosphere felt by the senses became sticky and slow.
Chen Hang probably also felt this atmosphere was a bit off. He glanced at the clock on the wall and tentatively brought up a topic: "You came right after school, so you probably haven't eaten, right?"
He looked at her: "Are you feeling a bit hungry?"
Probably due to nervousness, Luo Zhuowei actually didn't feel particularly hungry.
"It's fine... I'm not particularly hungry." But she still gave an ambiguous answer following this topic.
The normal start of conversation seemed to make Chen Hang breathe a sigh of relief. His expression relaxed a bit. He smiled at her, got up, and walked toward the open kitchen: "Who knows when this rain will lighten."
"If you don't mind, I'll just cook some noodles for us to eat together." He opened the fridge, one hand propped on his knee, the other holding the fridge door, seriously looking at what ingredients he could find to make do: "Usually the housekeeper comes to cook... there's not much in the fridge."
Luo Zhuowei also got up and walked behind Chen Hang, curiously peeking at the ingredients in his hand: "Tomatoes, eggs..."
"Chen Hang." She realized something from Chen Hang's words just now and smiled gently, her gaze taking on a teasing quality as she watched Chen Hang dig out a package of noodles from another cabinet: "Do you know how to cook?"
"I live alone, so I have to know how." The young master whose cooking skills were being doubted scratched his hair somewhat embarrassedly, glanced at Luo Zhuowei, then went to busy himself with boiling water. His expression, with a bit of frustration and grievance, combined with his downturned eyes and tear mole, looked somewhat innocent: "...Though it's really not that good."
This last sentence was muttered.
"Then let me do it."
Luo Zhuowei couldn't help but laugh. She reached out and gently tugged Chen Hang's sleeve, releasing it immediately: "I'm quite confident in cooking."
"...Then I'll leave it to you."
The open kitchen in a one-bedroom bachelor apartment couldn't be very large. It could just accommodate two people moving around. Luo Zhuowei's action made Chen Hang realize the distance between them had already exceeded the safe distance.
Was this okay?
Even Chen Hang belatedly realized this seemed overly intimate. But the other party's expression showed no abnormality. If he abruptly avoided it, wouldn't he be like those self-deluded idiot boys?
And Luo Zhuowei, who had already started cooking, was clearly the type of very capable girl. She efficiently tied up her hair, revealing her fair neck, rolled up her sleeves. Her posture while washing and cutting vegetables was both skilled and beautiful.
Plus her pleasing face—Chen Hang almost thought he was watching some cooking show.
But the current situation clearly had the guest doing the cooking. Feeling guilty and frustrated that he really didn't know how to cook, Chen Hang could only hover around Luo Zhuowei like a useless dog circling its owner, trying to help.
"Help me get the tomatoes."
Luo Zhuowei, who was seriously watching the noodles in the pot, was probably too focused and forgot she wasn't in her own home, and the person beside her wasn't her usually cheerful father or mother helping out.
"Sorry!" Only when Chen Hang's voice sounded in her ear did she suddenly realize her words just now sounded too commanding, like she was ordering him around. Luo Zhuowei's fair face flushed slightly with embarrassment: "Wait, Chen Hang, I-I'll do it myself."
"It's fine, I already got them... Watch out!"
Luo Zhuowei, who was hurrying to stop him, collided head-on with Chen Hang, who had just turned around holding the tomatoes.
Plus Luo Zhuowei's back was facing the pot of boiling water. Chen Hang naturally had to pull her forcefully toward him to prevent her from falling backward onto the high-temperature counter.
But the result was that, due to inertia, the two of them fell together.
Girl on top, boy on bottom.
Four eyes met.
That culprit tomato had already rolled off somewhere. The water in the pot was boiling, bubbling and gurgling. Everything sounded completely normal.
Except for that overly loud heartbeat that was impossible to tell whose it was.
What kind of borderline shounen manga scenario was this?
I stared dazedly at Luo Zhuowei above me, rarely seeing that expressionless face show a flustered confusion. Her long hair fell to the sides of her face due to gravity, the ends gently swaying before my eyes.
Her fragrance, her breath, warm body heat, and... a body ten thousand times softer than imagined.
What came back to its senses first from the impact wasn't reason, but bodily functions, the senses.
I reflexively wanted to prop myself up with my hand, but discovered my right hand, which I had extended to protect her, was now wrapped around her waist. That graspable feeling was too soft and sinful. The first reaction that reached my brain wasn't embarrassment, but the confused thought: "So a girl's waist is this thin?"
I hurriedly let go, propped myself up halfway with my hand, but the sensation from my arms told me: What was more critical wasn't my hand around her waist, but Luo Zhuowei almost sitting on me.
She didn't seem to realize yet that the support point she was using to straighten up was my shoulder. With her flustered movements, every action was torture for me.
This really could be called sweet torture: Her fingertips unconsciously slid from my collarbone to my abdomen with her movements. That barely-there touch was like electricity, crackling through all my nerves.
And her originally properly knee-length skirt hem had also been slightly lifted by this accident, crumpled and half-piled on her thighs, like a crushed flower. The navy blue skirt set off her skin, which was impossibly white. Nothing was actually exposed, but somehow it was a hundred times worse than if everything were exposed.