Spring Outing

After that day, the atmosphere between the two became even more delicate. Pei Huan didn’t even dare to meet Lu Yinghuai’s gaze; whenever their eyes met, she would hurriedly look away and pretend to focus on something else, as if she were a thief with a guilty conscience.

Lu Yinghuai saw all of this but said nothing. In his eyes, Pei Huan was always bright and full of life—even this nervousness of hers was something he liked to see. Only with Pei Huan by his side did Lu Yinghuai feel like his true self.

The first semester of their final year ended quickly. After the last exam, Pei Huan felt much lighter. She’d been tense all term, afraid of missing any important point in class, just like she had been in her third year of junior high.

When she stepped out of the exam room, a gust of cold wind made her shiver. She wrapped her coat tighter around herself and hurried toward her classroom. On the way, she bumped into Shen Qinshi, and the two walked back together, chatting. After the classrooms were moved, Shen Qinshi’s class was right across from hers, so they ran into each other in the corridor far more often than in their second year.

Somehow, the conversation drifted to Pei Huan and Lu Yinghuai. Shen Qinshi grinned, “I’ve heard all sorts of wild stories about you and Lu Yinghuai lately—it’s gotten so out of hand that people are saying you two have already picked out where you’ll buy a house in the future. Is it true?”

“Buying a house? Isn’t that stretching things a bit too far?” Pei Huan replied, exasperated.

“Who knows?” Shen Qinshi shrugged. “But I have seen you with Lu Yinghuai—you two really look good together, you know. That height difference, the collision of ice and fire…”

Shen Qinshi’s expression shifted several times as she spoke. Pei Huan didn’t need her to elaborate to guess what was running through her mind.

It was probably something indescribable.

“I heard Tang Yue and the others say the same thing. Is it really true?” Pei Huan asked uncertainly.

Shen Qinshi replied with certainty, “You don’t have to believe Tang Yue, but are you going to doubt me?”

Pei Huan shot her a suspicious look, but in the end, she halfheartedly agreed.

“There are so many posts about you two on the school forum lately. Some talented writers have even started writing fanfiction about you—I’ve read quite a few, and honestly, some of them are pretty impressive,” Shen Qinshi said.

That was a lot to take in. Pei Huan needed quite a while to digest the information.

Such talented fanfic writers.

After they reached their floor, the two parted ways. Shen Qinshi’s classroom was across a connecting corridor. Once they split up, Pei Huan couldn’t wait to take out her phone and look up the fanfiction Shen Qinshi mentioned. She found it quickly and kept reading as she walked, even after she’d returned to her seat in the classroom.

She had to admit, some of the scenes were vividly written—so much so that Pei Huan’s cheeks burned as she read, her heart pounding with excitement. Outwardly, though, she kept a perfectly straight face. Anyone else would have thought she was reading something serious.

Lu Yinghuai noticed the faint redness of her ears and couldn’t help but glance at her phone screen. The screen brightness was turned all the way up, so it was easy for him to see.

Whips, belts, wrists bound to the headboard… harsh punishments, and their names—his and Pei Huan’s—appearing in the text. Lu Yinghuai frowned deeply. When he looked up at Pei Huan’s expressionless face, he finally spoke. “What are you reading?”

Pei Huan jumped in surprise and instinctively put her phone away, forcing a laugh. “Nothing.”

Lu Yinghuai narrowed his eyes and regarded her for a long moment, then began listing out some of what he’d just seen. With each word, Pei Huan’s face grew more rigid, and eventually, unable to take it anymore, she interrupted him in protest, “Why are you peeking at my phone?”

“If you were reading something proper, I wouldn’t be interested,” Lu Yinghuai replied coolly.

“And what’s so improper about it?” Pei Huan retorted, lifting her chin.

“If you think having our names paired with those words counts as proper…” Lu Yinghuai’s face remained impassive.

Pei Huan scratched her nose awkwardly and mumbled, “But it really is well written…”

Her words made Lu Yinghuai laugh despite himself. He flicked her forehead lightly with his finger—not hard at all. Pei Huan, knowing she was in the wrong, didn’t say another word.

Winter break began. In the final year of high school, the winter holiday was short; barely a few days after the New Year, school started again. Students barely had time to enjoy their freedom before they were thrust back into the intense, high-pressure environment.

The college entrance exams loomed this term. Pei Huan often sought help from Lu Yinghuai or other top students. Though she was often confused at first, she usually figured things out after some reflection.

Spring arrived, and the weather gradually warmed. One day, Lu Yinghuai was still in bed, covers pulled up, when he heard movement downstairs. He opened his eyes, lay still for a few seconds, then got up and went down.

Sure enough, his mother was sitting on the sofa, her gaze fixed on him.

He stopped before her, not bothering to sit. His voice was cold: “What do you want?”

His mother glanced up at him, her tone haughty. “Can’t I come see you if there’s nothing?”

Lu Yinghuai didn’t respond, only stared back at her coldly. A few seconds of tense silence passed before she spoke again.

“You don’t need to sit the college entrance exam. After senior year ends, you’ll go abroad,” she said.

“I’m not going,” Lu Yinghuai refused flatly.

“It’s not up to you. We’ve already spoken to the school, and most of the paperwork is done. We indulged you back then, but not this time.” Her tone was just as forceful.

He said nothing, just kept his gaze fixed on her.

“Of course, you can refuse,” his mother said smoothly, “But that girl, Pei Huan, I wouldn’t mind teaching her a lesson.”

“Don’t you dare,” Lu Yinghuai said, his voice taut.

His mother let out a cold laugh. “So, Pei Huan really is your weakness.”

His hand clenched into a fist at his side, his eyes growing even fiercer.

The standoff dragged on. Someone’s phone rang, but no one moved to answer it.

After a while, the doorbell rang. Ignoring his mother, Lu Yinghuai turned and went to open the door. When he saw Pei Huan standing outside, he paused in surprise.

“The weather’s beautiful today. Want to go out for a walk with me?” she asked with a bright smile.

Lu Yinghuai stared at her for a long moment, his mother’s words echoing in his mind, his gaze growing more distant.

Pei Huan, seeing his expression, kept smiling. “You look a little worn out. I thought I’d take you out to get some sun—just the two of us.”

A heavy silence followed her words before Lu Yinghuai finally replied, “No, I’m not going.”

He didn’t wait for her to respond, just closed the door and returned to the living room, where his mother was still watching him.

“Pei Huan?” she asked.

He said nothing.

His mother smiled, “The two of you really are close.”

He remained silent. She continued unhurriedly, “I’ll give you time to think about it, but in the end, you have to go abroad.”

Still, he said nothing. Only when she stood to leave did he speak: “I’ll do as you say.”

A knowing smile appeared on his mother’s face. Lu Yinghuai went on, “But you must leave her alone.”

“Fine,” his mother agreed readily.

With an air of satisfaction, she left his villa. As the door locked behind her, Lu Yinghuai finally collapsed onto the sofa, all strength drained from him, staring blankly at the ceiling.

Then, as if sensing something, he suddenly got up and pulled open the door. There, sitting on the steps, was Pei Huan. He paused. “Why are you still here…”

“Want to go for a walk?” Pei Huan asked again with the same bright enthusiasm.

It was the same question as before. Lu Yinghuai’s hand tightened on the doorknob, a surge of emotion prickling at his nose, something threatening to spill from his eyes.

Pei Huan waited patiently. After a while, Lu Yinghuai finally said, “Alright.”

He closed the door and went back to change, while Pei Huan stayed where she was, waiting.

She had seen a woman leave Lu Yinghuai’s house just now, and coupled with the look on his face, guessed that there had been some kind of conflict. She’d originally planned to leave, but changed her mind—she felt this wasn’t the time to go.

Soon, Lu Yinghuai returned, dressed and composed as usual, but Pei Huan could still sense his mood was off.

They took a taxi to the nearest park—the largest in Ling City. The place was crowded: people flying kites, families picnicking, laughter ringing out everywhere.

They wandered slowly along the paths. Today’s sun was bright and warm, bathing them in gentle light. Pei Huan tilted her head back, eyes closed, basking in the warmth. Her voice grew languid as she spoke to Lu Yinghuai, “The weather feels so nice today.”

Lu Yinghuai glanced down at her, then copied her, lifting his face to the sun. The sunlight was soothing, and in that golden glow, Pei Huan’s voice sounded again, “I think you really should come outside more often. If you stay cooped up at home, you’ll rust.”

He said nothing, but then remembered her sitting on his steps earlier and asked, “Why didn’t you leave just now?”

“I didn’t think I should go. If I left you alone at home, you’d lock yourself in and mope for days,” Pei Huan admitted honestly. After a pause, she added, “And I wanted to take a walk with you.”

Her words struck something deep within Lu Yinghuai, sending his heart racing. He lowered his eyes, trying to hide the tumult of emotion there.

They continued their lazy stroll, savoring this rare moment of leisure. More than once, Lu Yinghuai wanted to tell Pei Huan about going abroad for his studies, but seeing her smiling and chatting away, the words stuck in his throat.

If he brought it up now, it would ruin the mood.

But if he kept it from her, she might be angry and never speak to him again.

A battle raged in his heart. Pei Huan, oblivious, rambled on cheerfully.

Lu Yinghuai watched her for a long time, eyes deep and unreadable, but in the end, he chose not to say anything.

He’d find another time to tell her.