She squinted upward. Xu Lingwei was standing there, arms crossed, staring down at her like a disappointed parent who'd waited all night.
"Huh? You?" she muttered, slurring slightly. "How'd you know I'd be here?"
"Because you weren't back yet, it's late, and no one's allowed outside past curfew," he replied smoothly. "And knowing you, sneaking through the wall was the most reckless route available—so of course you picked it."
She giggled. "Smart boy."
Behind them, a voice floated over the wall.
"Did she make it?" Feng Xue's worried call.
Xu Lingwei walked over to the wall and hoisted himself slightly to peek over.
Their eyes met. He gave a curt nod. "I've got her."
Feng Xue sighed, clearly relieved. "Okay, thank god. She's all yours."
"Unfortunately," he muttered under his breath as the girls disappeared into the night.
He turned back. Hua Rong was now lying on the grass, arms spread out like she was making a snow angel.
"The stars are spinning," she said dreamily.
"That's not the stars," he muttered. "That's the consequences."
He crouched down beside her, reached out, and tried to pull her up—but she flopped again.
"You didn't really have to wait here for me," she whispered.
"Didn't want to," he admitted. "But I had a feeling you'd do something dumb."
She blinked at him, then smiled again. "Then you really do know me."
He sighed, brushing dirt off her shoulder.
"Unfortunately.
Just as Xu Lingwei was about to turn away, she suddenly grabbed his cheeks between her hands, squishing them.
"I want to say something!" Hua Rong announced, eyes locked on his like it was a matter of life or death.
He let out a soft sigh. "Fine. But say it tomorrow. You're clearly not in your right mind tonight." He gently pried her hands off his face, but she stubbornly slapped them back on.
"No!" she insisted, voice urgent and slightly slurred. "If I don't say it now, I'll never be able to tomorrow!"
His brows furrowed slightly. "What are you even talking about?" he asked in a low, tired voice.
Instead of answering, she reached up, rubbing his neck as if trying to charm him—and then, without warning, slapped him across the face.
His eyes widened in disbelief. "What the hell—?"
"Why were you hugging her?" she accused, voice trembling with tipsy emotion.
"Who?!"
"Tang Moyu!" she shouted and grabbed the collar of his shirt, yanking him toward her. Before he could respond, she headbutted him, not hard enough to hurt, but enough to stun.
He stumbled slightly. "You've got to be kidding me—"
That was it. He'd had enough.
With a sharp exhale of frustration, he turned around and lifted her up effortlessly—like a sack of rice. One of her arms dangled limply on one side of his back, her legs flopping over the other.
"Hey—what are you doing?!" she yelped, flailing helplessly in his grasp.
"Taking you to the room," he replied flatly, marching forward through the night air with her swaying over his shoulder.
There was a moment of silence as she processed what he said.
Then came a sheepish giggle. "Oh yeah... we live in the same room."
"Yeah, we do," he muttered through clenched teeth, ignoring the way she kept squirming.
A few beats passed, then her voice softened, almost shyly.
"Then why didn't you ever make a move on me?"
He paused for half a second, then kept walking, choosing not to answer.
She didn't press. Maybe deep down, she knew it was a question that needed a sober moment—not a drunken night.
When they finally reached the room, he unlocked the door, stepped inside, and gently set her down on her feet.
After setting her gently down, Xu Lingwei reached forward, brushing a stray strand of hair from her face with delicate care. His fingers lingered for a second too long—long enough for a quiet, unreadable emotion to flicker in his eyes.
He straightened, cleared his throat, and gestured toward her bed.
"Go to sleep," he said, tone soft but firm.
To his surprise, she nodded obediently, like a well-behaved child. "Okay…" she mumbled and shuffled to her bed. She lay flat on her back, eyes wide and unblinking, staring at the ceiling.
He watched as she raised one hand, forming a little circle with her thumb and finger like she was peering at the world through it—completely lost in her own world.
With a quiet sigh, he turned to head to his own bed, but then—
"Xu Lingwei," she called out.
He turned his head halfway, only to see her hand raised toward him, fingers curling.
"Come closer," she said in a teasing, almost secretive voice.
His brows arched. "Why?"
"Just come," she whined, her voice laced with that childlike stubbornness only alcohol could summon.
He hesitated, then stepped forward cautiously, just close enough to be within her reach—but not quite at her side.
That was his mistake.
In one swift, clumsy tug, she grabbed his wrist, pulling him forward, and he lost balance—toppling onto the bed beside her. Before he could react, she swung a leg over him and sat on top of him, pinning him down with a triumphant grin.
He stared up at her, wide-eyed, hands instinctively hovering near her waist but not touching.
"What are you doing?" he asked, voice low and cautious.
She leaned in just a little, her hair falling around them like a curtain, eyes half-lidded and sleepy.
"Nothing… I just wanted to look at you properly," she said, tilting her head as if studying him like some sort of puzzle.
He swallowed hard, frozen beneath her as her fingers hovered just near his collar again
"I... really, sometimes I just want to hold you back," she whispered, her voice barely louder than the breath she exhaled. "To keep you with me, only me."
Her confession hung in the air like something fragile—easily shattered, yet too powerful to ignore.
Xu Lingwei's eyes searched hers in the dim light of the room. "Then do it," he said, voice low and unwavering.
She blinked, uncertain. "Can I?" she asked, resting her cheek against his chest. The sound of his heartbeat drummed wildly beneath her ear—fast, real, vulnerable. She smiled faintly.
"Since when did you start asking for permission?" he murmured, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.
He started to sit up, his back pressing against the cold wall behind the bed, but before he could shift fully, she stopped him—one hand flat against his chest.
"Wait... there's one thing I want to do," she said, her voice steadier now, though her gaze shimmered with hesitation.
But he was already half-up, braced on his elbows. She leaned in anyway, closing the space between them with one swift pull of his collar.
Her lips met his.
For a moment, his body stiffened in shock. The scent of alcohol clung to her like a second skin, dizzying and sweet. But her kiss didn't falter—her lips soft, warm, and filled with everything she hadn't said aloud.
His eyes fluttered shut.
And then—his hand found the back of her head, sliding through her hair with a trembling kind of certainty. He deepened the kiss, pulling her closer, their foreheads brushing in between uneven breaths.
In that moment, all the confusion, the tension, the longing—they said everything their words couldn't.