Shen Yue truly didn't know what to do now.
Perhaps it was seriousness, or perhaps it was within expectation.
Sang Fan liked her.
Shen Yue was not too surprised, and could tell, just not entirely certain.
To be honest, Shen Yue had never seen a boy as tall as 1.9 meters cry so miserably, feeling as though he would cry himself unconscious at any moment, gasping and sobbing, as if he had been terribly bullied.
Shen Yue closed her eyes. After a moment, she raised her hand with difficulty to touch Sang Fan's face. It was wet. His hair was short, feeling a bit prickly when touched, and it was also damp. He must have been sweating profusely from crying.
What a mess this all was.
Shen Yue used her hand to wipe away the tears on his face, but it was of little effect. The back and palm of her hand were wet, and Sang Fan still made whimpering sounds from his throat.
"I'm sorry... I shouldn't have been so fierce with you..." He held the girl tightly, as if wanting to melt her into his very bones, a low, indistinct sob escaping his throat, his face streaked with tears. "From now on, I'll never speak so loudly again. I'll be good, I'll listen... Don't leave..."
Undeniably, facing Sang Fan like this, Shen Yue could not remain unmoved. His tears were too scalding, too overwhelming, as if they would drown her along with him.
Shen Yue blinked her eyes, pressing her damp hands onto Sang Fan's shoulders. With difficulty, she stood on tiptoe, awkwardly leaned in, and proactively kissed his chin.
A single tear had just formed on his chin.
Shen Yue kissed it, finding it a little salty, and a little bitter.
Sang Fan's sobbing gradually subsided. He froze, as if stunned. He lowered his head. Though he said nothing, the helplessness and unease in his eyes pained people deeply.
He let out a sound akin to a beast's whimper and sorrowfully called out to the girl:
"Yueyue."
Shen Yue softly hummed. Her slender, beautiful fingers, like white jade, gripped the fabric on Sang Fan's shoulder, revealing delicate, alluring blue veins.
Her voice was light, like a falling feather.
"I'm here."
Sang Fan's arms tightened, almost pinning her against him. Urgently, frantically, roughly, he bent his waist and kissed Shen Yue's face.
Numerous little kisses, like a vast net,
entangling her tightly, sticky and thick.
Shen Yue was almost lifted by Sang Fan, her toes struggling to touch the ground, only her very tips making contact. The muscles in her calves trembled. Her pale, unhealthy face showed a bewildered, innocent expression.
Weren't we just talking properly?
Why did he suddenly kiss me?
Like this...
How could it be like this?
Shen Yue tightly clutched the fabric on Sang Fan's shoulder, her fingertips hot and trembling, as if trying to conceal an indefinable emotion.
Then, with a surge of strength, she pushed Sang Fan's shoulder. The fabric was pulled into wrinkles. The gray fabric bunched up between her slender, snow-white fingers, seeming as though it would tear if she pulled any harder.
As if sensing Shen Yue's struggle and aversion, he did not let go, but his head retreated slightly.
Shen Yue became utterly dazed, her face so hot it felt like smoke was rising. A faint blush colored her pale face, a strikingly beautiful hue like a stroke of bold ink on fine painting.
Her mind had not yet caught up when a wetness appeared on her face.
Shen Yue blinked, first startled, then looked up to see the boy, who had finally stopped crying, now weeping again.
His back trembled with the faint sobs as he spoke, his words becoming indistinct with the falling teardrops.
"You, you pushed me away... You really hate me, right... You hate me to death, don't you..."
He was overwhelmingly sad. The usually proud expression on his face was filled with despair, his eyes like a bursting dam, "I, I'm dying of sadness..."
This was no exaggeration. Shen Yue half-suspected that the tall boy would truly cry himself to death at any moment.
He no longer held Shen Yue, but slumped onto the ground, unable to control himself, letting out loud, heartbroken cries, sobbing uncontrollably.
Shen Yue, finding his actions both pitiable and exasperating, crouched down with him. She raised her hand, her wrist gently pressing against Sang Fan's flushed, tear-soaked face, offering comfort mixed with a hint of helplessness.
"No, I don't." Shen Yue whispered softly. "Don't cry anymore."
He sobbed, then rolled back into Shen Yue's embrace. His strong, firm arms wrapped tightly around the girl, like a fierce dragon guarding its treasure, allowing no one else even a sliver of a glance.
Shen Yue could only let him be.
---
Sang Fan had a dream that night. He hadn't dreamt in a long time, as he couldn't sleep. Even if he did fall asleep, he would wake up quickly, not from nightmares, but from a palpitation.
It was as if a warning.
If he continued to sleep, a despairing event would occur, urging him to wake up, to wake up quickly!
This time, he fell asleep and had a surprisingly lucid dream.
The dream was bizarre and surreal. Events that had never happened before felt as though they had been replayed countless times in his life.
In the dream, he was in a strange body, unable to extricate himself, feeling its emotions and consciousness, as if he *were* that person.
He saw red and blue lights – an ambulance.
A girl with a pale face, covered in a blood-soaked white sheet.
Someone was holding him, and that sword pierced both of them. Their blood merged, making it impossible to tell whose was whose.
She was very gentle, with a sense of release.
"This sword strike settles our debts."
The next moment, the scene shifted.
The girl lay in a bathtub filled with hot water. The faucet was still running, and the overflowing water pooled on the floor.
One of her arms dangled outside, a bead of blood forming at her fingertip.
Drip.
Drip.
Drip.
The sound of blood droplets striking his ears was like death's music.
Scene after scene, so real, as if they had happened right before his eyes.
Dying before him, he could feel that piercing, bone-gnawing pain, so agonizing he almost convulsed.
He used his hands and feet, stumbling, almost crawling towards her. His hands shook, then his whole body trembled.
The girl knelt on the ground, motionless, her delicate features pale, her vibrant lips curved into a gentle arc.
Like a white jade statue, neither pleased nor displeased.
He dared not touch her, merely kneeling beside her, hesitantly, cautiously reaching out to touch a corner of her garment. His heart pounded as if it would leap out, filled with an overwhelming joy.
"Yueyue..."
"Yueyue..."
"Please acknowledge me, please acknowledge me..."
He clung to her like a devoted fool abandoned by his master, his eyes pouring out endless tenderness and affection, too much to contain. His heart sent out a warning.
But he remained oblivious. Seeing the girl not respond, he called out plaintively again, "Yueyue, don't be silent, look at me. I was wrong, I was wrong..."
He froze.