Chapter 23

1:00 PM (1)

Her phone was charging on the couch using the inn’s communal charger.

A system notification popped up, briefly lighting up the screen for a few seconds.

The screensaver showed a piano key photo, displaying the current time as 1:17 in the afternoon.

Outside, a few lilac-colored violets had petals knocked down by the rain, scattering on the windowsill like a delicately brushed oil painting.

Raindrops collected on the dense, fuzzy tips of the foxtail grass, like strings of crystal beads.

Xu Muzi walked past the window.

Suddenly remembering something, she took out a tissue pack from her pocket and tore open the seal.

As she pulled out two tissues, she turned around.

Just the thought of that squirming black worm made her scalp tingle and gave her goosebumps, but she steeled herself, intending to go back to the couch…

The stray cat was meowing, and the pine cones she had collected had shifted on the coffee table.

The creepy soft-bodied insect was gone.

And Deng Yun? He was still lazily leaning back on the single sofa, tossing a crumpled tissue into the trash can by the sofa.

Xu Muzi briefly met Deng Yun’s gaze.

She folded the tissue back into its packaging and continued to follow Xing Pengjie to a spot behind some dense Schefflera plants.

Someone had left half a cup of drink on the narrow dining table, which Xu Muzi moved aside before sitting down.

Xing Pengjie, a straightforward college student, circled around the subject for a while before finally cutting to the chase. He said that if Xu Muzi didn’t have a steady boyfriend, he’d like to add her contact.

Xu Muzi told him she didn’t have a steady boyfriend and that she’d come to the mountains for a break to avoid her family’s excessive focus on her love life.

“But… I’m not looking to connect as a romantic interest, sorry.”

Xing Pengjie, seemingly prepared for this, scratched the back of his head. “Honestly, I get it. We’ve only known each other for a few hours and barely know each other. But I…”

He wasn’t shy and shared openly that his parents, both landscape photographers, met abroad and were engaged within three months due to love at first sight.

“Their view on romance has influenced me a bit, I think. I always thought I’d meet someone through love at first sight too. Since you’re not feeling it, we can just be friends. But… do you already have someone on your mind?”

Since the person sitting across from her wasn’t Deng Yun, Xu Muzi pulled her chair back to avoid any accidental physical contact in the narrow space under the table.

After thinking for a moment, she found it easier to open up to someone else.

“Before, no. But now, there’s someone I can’t quite figure out… someone I think about often.”

Having spoken openly, they both relaxed, sitting in silence to watch the rain outside.

The distant mountains were hidden in the mist, and the hops flowers, just blooming at 3 a.m., swayed precariously in the rain.

Xing Pengjie received a message from a temporary group chat created earlier for convenience.

Someone had shared a rough drawing of a panda in the rain, asking, “How long is this rain going to last?”

The cartoon was funny, and Xing Pengjie turned his screen for Xu Muzi to see.

She paused, then laughed.

The atmosphere between them was light and filled with laughter.

Faintly, they heard Xia Xia calling, “Miss Xu, I’m going to meet the vet, your phone…”

Her voice trailed off.

Xu Muzi figured Xia Xia might be worried about her phone left on the couch and its safety.

She stifled her laughter and was about to get up to fetch her phone when Deng Yun appeared, bringing her phone over.

He brushed aside the Schefflera leaves, walked over, and placed a hand gently on her shoulder.

Without a word, he indicated that she didn’t need to stand.

He placed the phone on the table in front of her and walked away without pausing.

Xing Pengjie observed the silent interaction between Xu Muzi and Deng Yun, sensing a hidden connection between them—a dynamic that felt hard to decipher.

Even though he hadn’t heard them exchange a single word.

Once Deng Yun had walked away, Xing Pengjie was trying to hide his curiosity, glancing toward the Schefflera and pointing subtly in that direction, “So… that guy just now… do you know him?”

Xu Muzi asked, “Why do you ask?”

“Well, in a situation like just now, if I had handed you your phone, you’d have said thank you or something, right? When we had a drink upstairs, I think you thanked me like ten times.”

“Even that worm that came out of the pine cone earlier… he threw it away, right? And I didn’t hear a thank you…”

“It just feels like… you two are pretty close?”

Xu Muzi was momentarily taken aback.

Now that she thought about it, she’d never used words like “thank you,” “sorry,” or “excuse me” with Deng Yun.

Even when they parted ways, they hadn’t really said a formal “goodbye.”

As for how close they were…

They had kissed—more than once—did that count as close?

Or maybe being taught to kiss by Deng Yun made them close?

That night, in Xu Muzi’s darkened bedroom, Deng Yun held her by the back of her head, kissing her lips gently.

The window was open.

The family driver started the car again, turned it around, and the sound of the car leaving the yard echoed;

Her parents’ slightly drunken voices drifted toward the taillights, calling out and repeating polite requests;

The sound of the wind chime by the window swaying in the night breeze, the sudden shutting of the front door…

Each sound was audible yet felt as distant as wisps of smoke, blending into the blank space of her mind.

It was more intoxicating than her dream.
—-
In her dreams, Deng Yun had only ever pressed his fingertip against her lips, but in reality, he was gently sucking on them during the kiss.

Xu Muzi’s heart raced, her whole body trembling uncontrollably as if experiencing an earthquake.

Deng Yun chuckled, pulled her into his embrace, and patted her back comfortingly. “You were pretty bold when you snuck a kiss on me earlier. What’s wrong now? Scared?”

Too stubborn to admit it, she shook her head forcefully.

Deng Yun looked at her intently for a long time, his gentle gaze lingering on her lips, and asked if she wanted to try opening her mouth a bit.

She tried it.

Deng Yun’s touch was consistently gentle, but it was precisely that gentleness that made her heart pound.

Xu Muzi felt an indescribable sensation, maybe just nervousness. Her whole body trembled uncontrollably, like a branch burdened by the weight of snow, her breath quivering.

When Deng Yun finally pulled away, she was so breathless that she could hardly speak.

She tried to cover her embarrassment with an excuse, saying in a shaky voice that it was normal to lack experience during a first kiss.

Trying to blame her awkwardness on him, she added that it must be his “average kissing skills” that made her so jittery.

Deng Yun, as always, gave her a look that was hard to decipher even as he laughed.

He took her words in stride, even repeating them back to her: “A first kiss, with no experience, is also perfectly normal, right?”

Having just been kissed, Xu Muzi felt as if a faint current was running through her body, leaving her slow to react. It took her a moment to realize what Deng Yun was hinting at.

Was that really his first kiss? It couldn’t be, could it?

Xu Muzi wanted to argue back, to say it was impossible, but then she saw his hand braced on the shelf behind her.

The muscles in his arm were tense, veins prominent across the back of his hand.

“Deng Yun, are you nervous right now?”

“Yeah.”

The kiss had indeed been intense.

That night, Xu Muzi tossed and turned, crumpling the hem of her nightgown as she tried to fall asleep.

When she closed her eyes, she could still hear Deng Yun’s labored breathing, matching hers, and smell the faint fragrance of his shower gel.

At the time, she thought this would be the most rebellious, thrilling thing in her life.

But only three or four days later, the record was broken before she returned to school.

In Deng Yun’s bedroom, they had their second, more passionate kiss.

During that time, her family had become unusually preoccupied, with dinners or gatherings that often kept them out late.

This provided Xu Muzi with the freedom to come and go at night without sneaking around. As long as she left after the housekeeper went home, she could walk out the front door without worry.

The night before she was set to leave for school, Xu Muzi sat by Deng Yun’s bed, handing him a flyer printed with her photo.

“The school rented a venue in the suburbs, a beautiful villa hotel. There will be two performances over two days. After the final show, the teachers will take me directly to the airport.”

Deng Yun looked at it and asked, “Are you nervous?”

“Actually, I am, but lately, I feel I’ve come to understand some things.”

The moon outside the window seemed to be eavesdropping.

Xu Muzi told Deng Yun that in her line of classical music, there was no such thing as late bloomers.

By the time you’re a teenager, it’s already clear whether you have what it takes to be world-renowned.

Maybe she had been held too high on a pedestal since childhood, never truly understanding herself.

The realization hit her hard.

Her talents weren’t quite enough to make her the kind of prodigy her parents thought she could be, but she still had every right to love playing the piano.

“When I was little, I watched someone play the piano in a mall, completely mesmerized—my mom loves to tell that story to everyone, right?”

Deng Yun smiled, “I’ve heard a bit about that, yes.”

Xu Muzi’s parents had taken her to see a doctor before, who said her issues were due to mental stress.

Her parents couldn’t understand; they supported her piano studies unconditionally, so what was there to be stressed about?

Yes, it was her choice, but she thought, “Shouldn’t I have a little bit of a right to feel tired, exhausted, confused, or disappointed?”

Deng Yun’s answer to her was simple: “Absolutely.”

Lying open on the carpet was a brochure, showing one particular page.

The photo wasn’t of Xu Muzi but of an older classmate who’d been invited, a grad student from one of the top music schools in the country.

Her classmate’s promotional photo was in a red, backless gown.

Xu Muzi asked, “This kind of dress is quite pretty, isn’t it?”

“Do you mean the color or something else?”

“No, I mean the backless design. I can’t wear that.”

She flipped to her own page. “See, my performance dresses are all like this, nothing backless.”

“Why?”

“Because I have a burn scar on my back.”

“So why can’t you wear a backless dress if you have a scar?”

“Because it’s ugly.”

Xu Muzi’s parents had always been busy with their business, and when she was young, they had hired a nanny to take care of her.

The nanny was a bit careless and would often lie on the sofa talking on the phone when her parents weren’t home, paying little attention to her.

One summer afternoon, Xu Muzi felt thirsty. When she went to the kitchen to get some water, she stood on her tiptoes and accidentally knocked over a thermos on the counter.

Hot water poured down her shoulder, leaving a palm-sized scar on her back.

There was no music playing in the bedroom; it was very quiet. After Xu Muzi finished telling Deng Yun about this incident, she asked him, “Do you want to see my scar?”

Xu Muzi took off her high-neck sweater, sitting on Deng Yun’s bed in just her underwear.

With her back to him, she felt his touch, her body trembling slightly.

“See, that’s why I can’t wear a backless dress, right?”

Before she could finish speaking, Deng Yun kissed her scar.

He said, “Wear it proudly. It’s beautiful. If anyone disagrees, they just lack taste and don’t understand real beauty.”

The bedroom door was open, and they could clearly hear Deng Yun’s parents coming home, along with Xu Muzi’s parents, who had joined them.

The adults were chatting and laughing downstairs.

Upstairs, Deng Yun helped Xu Muzi put her sweater back on. Just as she finally managed to get her head through the tight collar, he tilted his head and kissed her.

The sweater bunched up around her chest as Deng Yun’s arm held her tightly around the waist.

During their second kiss, she was still trembling, but she had learned to wrap her arms around his neck and open her mouth.

While their families were downstairs, obliviously exchanging banter, they held each other close, their breaths intermingling…

So, about how well she knew Deng Yun—

Xu Muzi’s answer to Xing Pengjie was, “Not well, but he’s a good kisser.”

Xing Pengjie’s eyes widened, as if seeing her for the first time, then switched to an expression that read “I knew it,” adopting a gossiping tone as he nudged her to share more details.

Xu Muzi laughed and shook her head.

She picked up her phone. “Maybe later. Right now, I need to go talk to him before Xia Xia gets back.”

It was clear who “he” referred to.