Chapter 20: Borrowing an Umbrella

The four-day exam finally came to an end. As she walked out of the exam hall, Huan felt a wave of relief wash over her. Gazing at the deep blue sky beyond the corridor, she could finally let go of the tension that had gripped her through over a month of intense studying.

Shen Qinshi’s exam room was just next door. As she stepped out, she spotted Huan standing in the corridor and strolled over, greeting her with easy familiarity, “How did it go?”

“I’m not sure,” Huan replied honestly, shaking her head. “But I think I did okay.”

The two of them headed downstairs together. Shen Qinshi’s classroom was on a different floor, so when they reached her level, Huan kept going down to the second-year, Class Two room.

Everyone was in high spirits now that the exams were over. In the classroom, some were checking answers, others were gossiping. Someone came over to compare answers with Huan, but she wasn’t in the habit of doing that after exams and brushed them off with a few words before moving her desk back to its usual spot.

After she finished, she noticed the seat next to hers was still empty. She considered, for a moment, doing a good deed and moving Lu Yinghuai’s desk and chair back for him. Just as she was debating this, a shadow fell across her. Lu Yinghuai, with casual ease, placed the things he was carrying onto her desk, then turned and went outside to fetch his own desk and chair.

Huan sat down and moved Lu Yinghuai’s things from her desk to his, then quietly began tidying up her own space.

It must have grown a little tedious, because as she kept sorting her things, she asked off-handedly, “How did you do?”

“Not bad,” Lu Yinghuai replied.

“I bet you did great,” Huan said with certainty. “Every time you say ‘not bad,’ you end up first in the liberal arts track.”

“Is that so?” Lu Yinghuai responded lazily.

Huan chatted with him idly. “But I always thought you’d be good at science. Why did you choose liberal arts?”

There was a brief pause in the air. Huan realized she might have crossed a line and was about to apologize, but Lu Yinghuai’s voice cut in at just the right moment.

“I just wanted to. Makes no difference to me whether I study arts or sciences,” he replied, his tone neither cold nor warm.

Hearing this, Huan felt as though her intelligence had been quietly insulted.

Truly, only a genius could say something like that.

Just after the exam ended, the weather had been clear and cloudless. Now, though, dark clouds pressed down, heavy with the promise of rain. Sensing the impending storm, their teacher Ma Fei kept his remarks brief and soon dismissed them.

By the time Huan left the school gates, a fine, dense rain was already falling. She took out the umbrella from her bag, opened it, and hurried home. Her brother Yan had just started evening classes this week and couldn’t walk home with her.

The rain grew heavier just as she arrived home. Standing at the door, folding up her umbrella, Huan felt a quiet gratitude for her timely return.

Zhong Su had come home early from work that day. She was sitting on the sofa, eating fruit and watching a soap opera. When she saw Huan, she called out, “You’re back? Did you get wet?”

“No,” Huan shook her head. “It started pouring just as I got in.”

“Good thing you walk quickly, or you’d have been drenched like a drowned rat,” Zhong Su teased.

Huan plopped down in front of the sofa, grabbed an apple from the fruit plate, wiped it on her clothes, and was about to take a bite when Zhong Su interjected, “Honestly, can’t you at least wash it first?” She took the apple from Huan and went to rinse it.

Sitting cross-legged, munching her apple, Huan watched the dull soap opera on TV and asked, “When does Yan finish his evening class?”

“Half past nine,” Zhong Su replied. “If it’s still raining then, I’ll have your dad pick him up.”

Mother and daughter chatted for a while until Zhong Su got up to make dinner, and Huan, backpack slung over her shoulder, headed upstairs.

After dinner, the rain still hadn’t let up. Huan wanted to go out and buy snacks, but as soon as she voiced her plan, Zhong Su objected, “It’s pouring out there! If you get wet, you’ll catch a cold tomorrow.”

“I’ll be fine, I have an umbrella,” Huan said, waving it in her hand.

Without waiting for another word, she grabbed the umbrella and left.

The rain was as heavy as when she’d come home, if not heavier. Luckily, she was wearing slippers and didn’t have to worry about wet shoes. At the corner store, she closed her umbrella and went inside, planning to warm up with a bowl of oden. Yet as she walked past the rows of shelves, she caught sight of a figure that seemed oddly familiar. She wasn’t sure if it was who she thought, so she didn’t approach.

She sat on one of the chairs inside the convenience store and quickly finished her oden. Turning to the shelves behind her to shop, she saw that familiar figure still there. Huan pretended to be absorbed in picking things out and walked up beside him. When she looked up, she was startled.

“What are you doing here?”

Lu Yinghuai glanced down, his voice calm and low as he answered her surprised gaze. “Just passing by, picking up a few things.”

His tone was so matter-of-fact, it really did sound like he’d just happened to be there.

Huan didn’t press further. She quietly browsed the shelves next to him. Neither spoke, yet the atmosphere was oddly comfortable.

Underneath his thin shirt, Lu Yinghuai wore a gray jacket unzipped, the hood loosely pulled over his head. His cool, handsome eyes were half-hidden beneath the brim. He had on loose black pants. Huan had never run into him outside of school before, so she hadn’t dared approach at first.

She picked up a bag of chips and recommended, “These are really good. Want to try?”

Lu Yinghuai glanced at the bag, about to refuse, but Huan had already tossed it into his basket and continued shopping. He looked down at the chips wordlessly; the words of refusal never made it to his lips.

After making her rounds, Huan’s basket was packed. Lu Yinghuai’s, by contrast, had only a few scattered items. “That’s all you’re getting?” she asked.

He nodded. “Yeah.”

Huan said nothing more and went to the counter. Lu Yinghuai followed, placing his basket beside hers and telling the cashier, “Mine goes with hers.”

Assuming he meant she’d pay first and he’d pay her back later, Huan didn’t think much of it. She scanned Lu Yinghuai’s payment code, and the two of them left with their bags. At the door, Huan looked out at the curtain of rain, then glanced at Lu Yinghuai and asked, “Did you bring an umbrella?”

He shook his head.

Huan remembered that his home wasn’t close, and she couldn’t imagine why he’d pass through here. After a moment’s thought, she handed him her umbrella. “Take mine.”

“What about you?” he asked, glancing at the umbrella in her hand.

“It’s fine, I live close by. I’ll just run home,” Huan replied with easy nonchalance.

Lu Yinghuai stood still. Thinking he was reluctant to take it, Huan thrust the umbrella into his arms. “Just take it. I’m going. Return it whenever you like.”

With that, she dashed out from under the store’s awning and disappeared into the rain, shielding her head with her hand but unable to block out the downpour.

Lu Yinghuai watched her go, then looked down at the umbrella in his hands.

She’d hurried off so nervously, as if afraid he’d refuse her, yet she hadn’t considered that she’d be soaked going home without it—and she was a girl, after all.

Watching her small figure vanish into the rain, Lu Yinghuai finally opened the umbrella and stepped into the downpour himself.

When Huan got home, she was soaked through. Zhong Su frowned, “Didn’t you take an umbrella?”

“It’s gone,” Huan lied without missing a beat.

Zhong Su didn’t press her and only urged, “Go take a hot shower right away, or you’ll regret it if you catch a cold.”

Huan agreed and hurried upstairs.

Meanwhile, Lu Yinghuai returned home, dropped his shopping bag on the cabinet by the door, and shook the water from the umbrella, propping it open to dry. Only one lamp was lit in the living room. He gazed at the umbrella, rain still drumming steadily outside, and found his thoughts drifting to Huan’s face—she had walked home in the rain tonight. He really ought to check on her.

He opened his phone and looked at their chat history, realizing he’d never messaged her first; it was always Huan who started the conversation, and his replies had always been brief—sometimes he didn’t reply at all. It was a wonder she still wanted to talk to him.

After a moment’s hesitation, he finally sent a message: Are you home yet?

There was no reply for a long time, and for once, Lu Yinghuai felt an unfamiliar urgency as he stared at his phone screen, as if her reply might pop up the next moment.

Huan saw his message only after she finished her shower, ten minutes later. She was surprised that Lu Yinghuai had messaged her first.

She typed back: I’m home.

He replied almost instantly, as if he’d been waiting: Are you okay?

His words were vague, but Huan immediately understood. Smiling, she replied: I’m great, just finished a hot shower.

Lu Yinghuai finally relaxed, but still worried: Any discomfort?

Huan: Not at the moment.

After this, there was a long silence, as if he didn’t know what else to say. Huan typed quickly.

Huan: Are you worried about me?

Lu Yinghuai’s reply was awkward, the concern showing through: I borrowed your umbrella, so I have to check on you.

Leaning against her desk, Huan shook with laughter. It was rare to see Lu Yinghuai flustered like this. She teased him a bit more before letting him off the hook.

Lu Yinghuai put away his phone and looked out at the rain. He didn’t dislike rainy days, but he didn’t like them either. But tonight, because of this little incident, he began to feel—

Maybe rainy days weren’t so bad after all.