In the peak of summer, the sky stayed light until late, with streaks of blazing clouds stretching endlessly across the pale blue expanse. The air was thick with an almost unbearable heat.

Not long after leaving the gym, Xia Fu felt herself growing damp again. Her shirt, dried by the gym’s AC, was once more sticking to her skin with a sticky, uncomfortable feeling.

Walking slowly, Xia Fu pinched the fabric lightly, fanning herself as best as she could. Her mind drifted, carried off by the breeze back to the staircase where it was just the two of them.

Dust danced in the air, and the sunlight made his skin appear almost translucent.

He was very fair, someone who probably never had to do “flyer duty” or “set up a small booth” or any of those tough little jobs.

More than that, he looked so fresh and clean, not a trace of sweat. Xia Fu guessed he must’ve driven straight from home to the gym.

The difference was so stark that, mixed with a faint sense of inferiority, a wave of longing welled up in her.

It’d be so nice…

If only I could step into that “light” too.

But what’s the price of reaching out for it?

The last time she’d caught a ride with Bao Zhiwei for a group project, she ended up dealing with his constant pestering. Unlike him, though, Fang Jingcheng was actually nice to her… well, at least for now.

She’d never received such considerate treatment and wanted to be good to him too, to keep this balance in place.

So next time, yeah, next time. When she had something to offer in return, she’d ask him for help.

Until then, Xia Fu figured she’d do her best on her own. Like starting with small steps, by refusing Bao Zhiwei’s goodnight messages.

And then there was the team-building for the modeling competition. She’d tried to decline Bao Zhiwei’s invitation, using the excuse of “not being familiar with the contest’s format.”

But Bao Zhiwei clearly didn’t have the word “no” in his vocabulary; even with her repeated insistence, all she managed to get was the weekend to think it over. By Monday, she’d probably end up pressured into joining his team.

Now it was time to set things straight!

With that thought, Xia Fu quickened her steps.

After a quick freshen-up and dinner back at the dorm, it was already 8 p.m. Xia Fu grabbed her bath basket and headed out with her roommates to shower.

To conserve energy, F University’s public baths were located right next to the cafeteria, sharing the same boiler room for hot water. Around 3:30 in the afternoon, as the cafeteria began preparing dinner, steam would slowly rise from the exhaust fan on top of the bathhouse, and students carrying bath baskets would crowd the campus paths.

But at that hour, it was mostly guys. Wearing pajamas, slippers, and sometimes even with wet hair dripping, some of them would just head straight to the cafeteria.

Girls typically waited until after dark.

After all, it was summer, and everyone wore thin pajamas for convenience. The men’s bath was on the second floor, the women’s on the third.

Imagine how embarrassing it’d be to run into a guy you knew while going downstairs after a shower, with your makeup washed off, long wet hair hanging down your shoulders, and just a thin nightgown barely covering you. It’d be mortifying!

Because of this, some of the more reserved girls, like Xia Fu, would even avoid the dim streetlights, slipping into the shadows as they walked. She often didn’t leave the Diligent Learning Building until 10 p.m., so by then, no one really cared what she was wearing.

Some girls from northern regions hadn’t expected they’d have to share a public bath with other girls, and they’d all gotten mad together with their southern roommates when they first arrived, complaining about the university’s stinginess and the bathhouse being so far from the dorms.

But the military training was so exhausting that, by the time they were dismissed, everyone just wanted to shower as fast as possible. After a few days of hesitation, they gave up on modesty, and some even started pooling money to buy those “cute pajama sets with built-in bra pads” recommended by their senior classmates. They proudly joined the “bathing army.”

Xia Fu asked timidly, “Is it okay to just wear pajamas? Won’t anyone stare…?”

If her parents saw her, they’d probably scold her, saying, “Only shameless girls go out in pajamas, trying to seduce men. Sure, those men may enjoy looking, but none of them will ever marry her!” It was as if a single inch of skin showing could mean someone would pounce on you. Yet, meanwhile, the streets on summer nights were full of men hiking up their tank tops to expose their shiny bellies.

The double standard made Xia Fu uneasy, but she had no choice.

Her roommate smirked, dismissing her worry with, “What’s wrong with it? Everyone goes to shower this way. It’s not like we’re streaking.”

“If anyone stares, they’re pervs! We’d report them right away, get them blasted on the campus forum, and they’d be kicked out for sure!”

“Don’t worry! We’ll go together. Oh, look, what do you think of this bear pajama set?”

There’s safety in numbers, and her roommates’ confidence was contagious. Xia Fu took Ji Xiaowei’s phone and looked at the set with little bears on it, immediately enchanted.

That night, she owned pajamas other than her little brother’s old T-shirt.

Ever since they were little, Xia Changqing had worn brand-name clothes from department stores. His soft cotton tees were durable, and once he’d grown out of them, Xia Fu could keep wearing them.

But these pajamas were different! For her roommates, it might be just another cheap item they’d been talked into buying by a senior’s “campus deals” scheme—rough fabric, loose threads everywhere.

But Xia Fu loved them to bits.

They were a gift to herself bought with her own money from her part-time job, a long, knee-length, off-white nightgown covered in little brown bears. The round neckline showed her collarbones, and the princess-style puff sleeves and light, flowy skirt had a lace ruffle at the hem, opening like a flower when she twirled.

So cute! Even someone as modest as Xia Fu couldn’t help admiring herself in the mirror outside the bath.

If not for the loose fit and childish trim, who’d even think it was a nightgown?

If she were a kid, she could probably wear this outside.

Xia Fu had never worn such fancy clothes before. She’d stand in front of the mirror, pinching the soft frilled edges and indulging her inner girlishness.

But the moment she stepped out from the bath’s curtain, that joy faded. “Male eyes” were like flickering streetlights, unreliable and eerie; like a hand hiding under the bed, retreating when you looked but reaching out when you closed your eyes, leaving a cold, damp trace.

Xia Fu had to hunch, hiding her figure, clutching onto Ji Xiaowei’s arm as they walked, or else she’d be overwhelmed by anxious thoughts.

Tonight’s topic was the basketball game from the afternoon. Ji Xiaowei asked if there were any cute guys, so Xia Fu pulled out her phone to show her the pictures.

Xia Fu was usually in charge of drafting the event news. If her article got posted on the school column, she’d earn fifty yuan. She’d taken some photos of the game, including a few of Fang Jingcheng.

She zoomed in on one of the photos, repeating the words Fang Jingcheng had used to tease Bao Zhiwei:

“I’ve got it now. If he keeps sending those ‘goodnight’ texts, I’ll just ask him back, ‘Bao, do you seriously need a goodnight text to fall asleep every night, or what?’”

“It’s like he’s a kid—”

“Which I’m not.”

She’d thought this over carefully in the shower, doing her best to mimic Fang Jingcheng’s sarcastic tone perfectly.

Ji Xiaowei giggled, patting Xia Fu on the shoulder. “Nice! You’re learning to stand up for yourself.”

“That’ll work perfectly!”

Her bright smile lit up Xia Fu’s eyes.

Xia Fu looked up at Ji Xiaowei’s little chin. “Really? You think it’ll work?”

“Definitely.”

With that assurance, Xia Fu couldn’t help but smile back.

The “goodnight attack” arrived earlier than usual that night. Xia Fu had just set down her bath basket when Bao Zhiwei’s text came in.

It’s not even 10 p.m. yet. Did Fang Jingcheng’s little jab get to him?

Xia Fu opened her phone, ready to send her pre-planned message, but what she saw made her freeze.

“Don’t go dressing up just because of what I said.”

“You look okay without makeup.”

“Just don’t eat too much. Good girls shouldn’t weigh more than 100 pounds. You’re looking nice and slim right now.”

After these “kind” words, there were photos.

In the dim glow of a streetlamp, Xia Fu was smiling at her friend, her nightgown slightly wet from her hair.

Unlike a regular photo, this was a cropped close-up. Blown up, every detail was clear: the nightgown clinging to her damp back, leaving a translucent trace that highlighted her shoulder blades.

Even the bare skin of her legs and ankles took on an unspeakable quality in this shadowed frame.

When had Bao Zhiwei taken this?

Had he been following her this whole time, standing outside the dorm right now, sending these messages?

Terror, shame, and regret swirled in her chest.

Clutching her phone tightly, Xia Fu finally let out a scream—if only in her mind.