“Thank you for helping me move. Let me just tell my family real quick.”

After packing up her belongings, Xia Fu took a few photos of her new dorm room with her phone and sent them along with her on-campus stay application form to the family group chat.

As a daughter, she was like a kite flying high in the sky, weathering storms with barely any concern from her family, but every now and then, she’d get tugged down, pulled back to check if that fine, invisible string was still held firmly in her parents’ hands. Right now, with a long holiday ahead, she couldn’t just avoid going home without a good reason.

“I’ll need a few more days before coming back. My mentor, who supervised me during the competition, has a summer research project going on, and I thought I could stay a few days to gain experience and maybe secure a scholarship, which would ease things a bit at home.”

“This dorm looks pretty clean, almost like a hotel. Must’ve cost a fair amount, huh? You’ve got a computer there, so why not just come home?”

Rather than her progress, her family seemed more concerned with how much this would cost. Their tough tone brought back memories of the summer before her junior year in high school when she couldn’t afford a cram school course—“Do you really think going to a tutoring center in the city is going to get you into Tsinghua or Peking University? It’s already costing us a lot just to get you through high school. Wang Hui next door has already started working to help her family out.”

If her English had been a bit better, would she have been able to make it into the “Advanced Talent Class” already?

Xia Fu took a deep breath to keep calm. “It doesn’t cost anything. The school covers the summer project expenses, and the professor has funds for us, so I can even save a bit. But I do need to stay on campus to qualify.”

Fortunately, the first-place scholarship was several thousand yuan, which wasn’t a small amount. Her family’s attitude softened, seeing her go from costing them money to actually earning it.

“Alright, it’s good the teacher’s looking out for you. Just make sure you study well and don’t cause any trouble for them.”

“Mm-hmm.”

Aside from her parents, she still had to answer to her brother, Xia Changqing. Even though his exams weren’t over yet, he kept bombarding her with messages: “A few college students here are already done with exams and back home. When are you finally gonna finish?”

Xia Changqing sent an exasperated emoji. “Study, study, study. That’s all you ever do. I was planning a surprise for you when you got back since I got a bonus at the end of the month!”

“I showed the photos to Lili too, and she liked the lipstick color, but she thought that skirt you wore last time was too plain. Young girls should wear brighter colors, you know? I don’t want people laughing that Xia Changqing’s sister is some country bumpkin.”

“And since you’re in no hurry to come back, it doesn’t make sense for a guy like me to keep holding onto this skirt. I’ll just mail it to you.”

The photo seemed to have been taken at his part-time job at a car dealership. On a shiny leather sofa lay a dress with a polo collar—simple and innocent-looking, except it was bright, almost garish, magenta, with white stripes running across. It had a hard-to-describe tackiness.

A crumpled paper bag lay to the side, and the familiar logo from the town’s only boutique caught her eye. Remembering the time she wore a knock-off dress on a date and ended up walking into a mall, Xia Fu felt her cheeks go red and hot.

“I don’t want it!” Those three words almost leapt from her mind, but her parents were in high spirits. “That Chen guy really is so generous! Not only did he get the money back for us last time, but he even gave you a bonus! We need to thank him properly.” So those words of refusal stayed trapped inside her.

She gripped her phone, replied with a simple “Sure,” and turned off the screen, her dimmed gaze wandering aimlessly.

Here it was again, that feeling like her mouth was being covered, her hands bound, her soul helplessly floating up, watching her body powerlessly, and she dug her nails into her palm, using that faint pain as a tether to feel her presence.

That same old-fashioned magenta.

After their date at the Botanical Garden, she hadn’t used the lipstick her brother gave her. Looking at her expression now, Fang Jingcheng seemed to get it.

“You don’t like the color, do you?”

“Mm, but since it’s a gift from my brother, it’s better not to say anything.”

She’d been taught to be the tolerant, gentle sister and had long forgotten how to express what she really thought.

Besides, why refuse? She’d sacrificed so much helping her brother pay off debts; why not accept some compensation? This nit-picking mentality might seem laughable, but it was her only comfort.

Whenever Xia Fu talked about her family, a certain resistance always emerged. Observing her, Fang Jingcheng felt a hint of hesitation.

Don’t do things she dislikes, don’t bring up trivial topics.

Kissing, having fun, dating was supposed to be simple and lighthearted. He usually knew how to read the mood, steer the conversation to an interesting topic, or wait patiently for her emotions to ease rather than probe further.

But she wasn’t as skilled at concealing her feelings as he’d imagined. If his girlfriend kept showing a look of silent grievance, what should he do?

Wasn’t there anything beyond money that could bring her a little happiness?

Even though he barely understood dealing with his own family, Fang Jingcheng had a strong desire to reach out to her. Carefully considering his words, he eventually spoke up.

“You’re really kind-hearted… but I think you can be honest with family.”

Comforting her was harder than he’d expected, and this attempt felt like a mistake.

Xia Fu muttered a low “Mm,” shrinking further like a small animal caught in a cold wind, trying to restrain her emotions. He’d already promised to take her abroad, so with that settled, there was no need to trouble him with these minor issues.

Fang Jingcheng watched as the silence between them rose like an all-too-familiar wall. He’d seen it before in his mother’s silent silhouette.

Complete acceptance could sometimes be a form of refusal, a refusal to let the other person have a chance to connect with you.

An unexpected chill crept into Fang Jingcheng. He instinctively held her hand. “I hope I didn’t give you anything you don’t care about. If I did, please tell me… I want to make you happy.”

Surprised, Xia Fu looked at him, and for a moment, his tall figure seemed to shrink, his hand holding hers appearing almost childlike in its innocence and vulnerability. She felt like she could easily push him away, yet this time, she didn’t.

“No, I like everything you gave me.”

After a slight pause, she hesitantly squeezed his hand in return, gathering her courage before asking, “But don’t you feel a bit hurt being told that?”

She had so little; anything she gave felt like a precious gem slipped from between her fingers. She offered it timidly, watching his expression, unable to fathom the courage Fang Jingcheng had to dig deeper into their relationship.

For someone so reserved, this openness was already a huge leap.

Fang Jingcheng gently rubbed her soft palm with his thumb, visibly relieved.

“No, you’re just rejecting something I picked wrong, not me.”

“And if you tell me, I get to know you just a bit better, and bit by bit, I’ll be the second person who knows you best in the world.”

She lived so cautiously at home, always paying for others’ emotions, but she’d never seen someone so concerned about her frustrations.

Xia Fu slowly straightened up, her gaze focused on Fang Jingcheng as she tentatively stepped forward into unexplored territory.

“Then, who’s the first?”

He leaned down, kissing her hand, then placed her hand on his chest, where his strong heart beat under his muscles.

“The first will always be you. You’re always first.”

The petite tyrant watched this loyal subject for a long moment without replying.

Although he could sit casually on an abandoned couch, when it came to dating, Fang Jingcheng was more thoughtful and gentlemanly than she’d expected. Like during the move, he hadn’t entered the dorms where girls kept their personal belongings, and now, with only one chair in the room, he sat carefully on the edge of her bed, looking like he might tumble off any second.

Xia Fu briefly wondered if, while tidying up, Fang Jingcheng had noticed the pajamas she’d left under her pillow, along with the T-shirt he’d lent her.

Pressing her palm against his chest, she easily pushed him onto the floor. Rising from the chair, she kneeled on the bed, looking down at him.

“Do you want me to tell you what I want?”

Fang Jingcheng felt a rush of dizziness.

The faint scent of soap surrounded him, blending into her presence, soft and unassuming, like her own beauty, yet somehow it made his cheeks flush.

He gazed at the white ceiling, his mind blank.

She shifted beside him, the bed creaking slightly.

Instinctively, he moved to the side, pressing his back to the wall to make space for her. As he held her slender frame, a momentary surge of protective tenderness washed over him, like a mother comforting a child plagued by a bad dream.

But what kind of child would do this?

After he answered, “Yes,” Xia Fu let out a quick laugh. She lifted his T-shirt, softly touching the bare skin of his waist, finding his weak spot.

She remembered the Botanical Garden date—Fang Jingcheng was ticklish.

And before that, in the hospital, she’d seen how his dark tattoos spread like vines, but the skin around his waist was pristine and delicate, like untouched snow without even a single freckle.

Xia Fu slowly traced over his skin, wanting to leave marks in that unspoiled snow.

The freedom Fang Jingcheng gave her was rare, but freedom wasn’t always comforting.

She worked hard to keep things in order, but life exhausted her. It was as if a tightly stretched string in her mind started to fray, with each of his gentle gestures unraveling it bit by bit.

She envied everything about him, even his courage to express himself was endearing.

But what did it mean to truly own something? Was it enough to wear clothes, or was the next step putting on a new skin? This emotion was both shameful and surprisingly fierce and direct.