Bian Li was in a daze, lost in the strange play of light and shadow.
A cold, indifferent breath brushed against her lips, carrying a lingering warmth.
She felt like she was trapped in some primal instinct to escape—just wanting to break free from this suffocating restraint.
Her eyelids trembled as she fought against the dizziness weighing her down, her limbs heavy and unresponsive. After what felt like forever, she let out a soft hiss and groggily pushed herself up from the sofa, supporting herself with her arms. Her messy hair cascaded over her shoulders, slightly disheveled.
She forced one eye open, struggling against the haze, only to be met with silence.
Moonlight streamed in through the balcony in the outer hall—it was already deep into the night.
Contrary to what she expected, the living room wasn’t a disaster zone. Instead, it was neat and clean.
The beer cans, takeout boxes, and all the clutter on the coffee table were gone. Even the trash bin next to her had been emptied and replaced with a new bag.
Bian Li parted her lips experimentally, only to find her throat unbearably dry.
She coughed softly, glancing around. Ruan Xiangyi was still there on the sofa, but Ace and his guys were gone.
She crawled over, reaching out to wake Ruan Xiangyi, only to realize she was covered with a thin coat—a black jacket, obviously a man’s.
Bian Li rubbed her forehead and suddenly recalled—this was He Yunxing’s jacket.
She patted her face, trying to shake off the daze, then scooted closer and pushed Ruan Xiangyi. The other girl was sprawled out, face-down on the cushions.
For a long moment, Ruan Xiangyi didn’t stir. Bian Li cleared her throat and called out, “Hey, Ruan Ruan, go sleep in your room. Don’t sleep here.”
Ruan Xiangyi groaned, stretching her arms before rolling over onto her back, legs still draped over the sofa.
“Mmm… I know, I’m just sleepy. I’m not drunk,” she mumbled.
Bian Li snorted. “I didn’t say you were drunk. Why are you even clarifying?” Then she frowned. “No, seriously, get up. I’m afraid you’ll pass out here again. Go take a shower before bed.”
Ruan Xiangyi cracked open an eye, still half-asleep. “They’re all gone?”
“Mm… I don’t know when they left…” Bian Li muttered, absently touching the corner of her mouth. It felt warm, swollen.
Ruan Xiangyi’s gaze swept across the living room. “They’re pretty considerate. Alright, I’m getting up. You should sleep soon, too.”
She was just about to sit up when her eyes landed on Bian Li’s face—and she froze.
“…Did you eat too much supper just now?”
Bian Li blinked. Tipsy and groggy, her head felt stuffed with water, swaying slightly. She responded with a sluggish, “Huh?”
Ruan Xiangyi narrowed her eyes. “Why’s your mouth so swollen?”
Now that she looked closely, the corner of Bian Li’s mouth was bright red. It didn’t quite look like swelling—more like an allergic reaction.
“My mouth?” Bian Li reached up to touch it again, wincing slightly. “It did hurt just now…”
Thinking back, she figured it was probably from scraping her mouth on the aluminum rim of a beer can.
She quickly straightened up, suddenly anxious to check the damage in a mirror.
New Year’s Eve was coming up—having a busted lip right before then was basically a tragedy. If Da Xiong saw it, he’d definitely scold her to death.
“What if it never heals…” Bian Li muttered. “No, I need to check.”
She stood up abruptly, but the dizziness hit her again. Stumbling, she nearly lost her balance.
Ruan Xiangyi reacted fast, catching her by the waist. “Hey, sis, slow down.”
Bian Li steadied herself, then took off running toward her room. Halfway there, she suddenly paused, glanced back at Ruan Xiangyi, and hesitated. Then, with a guilty look, she snatched the black jacket off the sofa before dashing into her room.
Ruan Xiangyi, still moving sluggishly, blinked.
Then, a thought popped into her head.
She rubbed her chin, deep in contemplation as she watched Bian Li’s retreating figure.
Inside her room, the bathroom was brightly lit. The soft glow from the small wall lamp illuminated every corner, fully reflecting Bian Li’s face in the mirror.
Her fair skin was flushed, her eyes glassy with a gentle sheen. And her lips—normally a pale cherry pink—were now an alarming shade of red, as if they had been kissed to the point of bruising.
At the corner of her mouth, a small wound stood out—bitten or scratched, the skin raw and swollen. If she didn’t look closely, she might’ve thought the curve of her lips had naturally lifted, giving her an inexplicably seductive look.
What kind of luck was this? Even drinking sweet pineapple beer, and she still managed to get a busted lip?
Feeling the lingering warmth on her face, Bian Li sighed. She was just unlucky, that’s all.
Drowsiness tugged at her, so she quickly showered and collapsed onto her bed. Yet, sleep refused to come.
She moved her lips slightly, feeling a dull ache.
But her body was relaxed now, and her mind was gradually sobering up.
Her gaze drifted to the black jacket hanging by the bedside.
After a long moment of hesitation, Bian Li finally reached for her phone.
The screen lit up—12:30 AM. It was already late.
She hovered over WeChat, her fingertip lingering over He Yunxing’s profile picture.
Ask or not?
She hesitated, caught in a mental struggle.
She buried her head into the soft mattress, then rolled twice on the sheets. That still wasn’t enough, so Bian Li shut her eyes and kicked her legs silently in the air.
After a long time, she solemnly clicked on He Yunxing’s Moments.
Before chatting, warm up first.
His feed wasn’t empty, but there weren’t many posts—just two or three in total.
The only good thing was that there was no time limit on his privacy settings.
Bian Li tapped through them one by one. Without exception, they were all about songwriting, accompanied by a few photos of his personal studio.
Not a single selfie. Dull and boring.
Compared to her own flashy feed, where she recorded everything from eating, drinking, and having fun, the difference was huge.
She swiped up and landed on the cover of his album.
A tree stretched under a blue sky, basking in golden sunlight. Flowers bloomed in full splendor. White petals peeked through the veins of the green leaves, fresh and beautiful.
The whole scenery captured in the photo felt like a pear tree blossoming in spring.
Bian Li blinked. She hadn’t expected He Yunxing—who always seemed so cool and careless—to choose such a warm album cover.
She couldn’t help but recall the moments and words exchanged between them.
So how much warmth had this person buried in his heart?
As she was thinking, her gaze fell on a line of striking text beneath the album cover.
His signature. Just two words—
Not Awake.
It was the title of Ace’s debut song, composed by He Yunxing himself, a track that had swept the entire country.
A song so popular that even Bian Li could hum a few lines.
That kind of delicate, melancholic style was still incredibly captivating.
Suddenly, a thought popped into her mind—her own signature.
Bian Li, true to her personality, had just one word—
Sleep.
The two together… it was actually kind of interesting.
Not awake.
Sleep… not awake…
Bian Li suddenly felt like she was changing.
She actually dared to latch onto the big shot.
Shaking her head, she clicked into He Yunxing’s chat again, trying to summon some courage.
She had never been this conflicted in her life.
Just as she hesitated, staring at the two words “Fat Boy” in her contact notes, she saw the text above the chat box suddenly change—
‘The other party is typing…’
The next second, a message popped up.
[X.]: I really want to know what you’ve been playing at for so long.
[Fei Fei Eats Pears]: …If I say… I was just passing by… would you believe me…
But wait—how did he know she had been hovering for so long?!
Bian Li thought carefully and started piecing things together.
She suddenly felt that WeChat’s “the other party is typing…” feature wasn’t very useful.
Seeing that he didn’t reply, Bian Li sent another message.
[Fei Fei Eats Pears]: Ahem… You haven’t slept yet? I just wanted to ask if you left that black jacket behind?
But the moment she sent it, regret hit her hard.
Bian Li had never felt so fake before. She already knew that the jacket belonged to He Yunxing.
She quickly hit “Withdraw,” then tossed her phone far away. Out of sight, out of mind.
Burying her head in the pillow, she let out two muffled screams.
Right then, her phone vibrated twice with a soft buzz. Bian Li peeked at the screen through half-open eyes.
[X.]: What’s the point of withdrawing? I saw it all. The jacket’s mine.
[Fei Fei Eats Pears]: Oh… thanks…
[X.]: Am I that old?
Then, another message came—a picture of her that he had secretly taken, full of threats and implications.
Along with it was a single line—
[X.]: Either call me senior, or call me brother.
Bian Li stared at the screen in disbelief before firing back.
[Fei Fei Eats Pear]: Oh, that’s fine, Fatty Brother.
[X.]: Yeah.
Bian Li was a little dumbfounded.
Just “Yeah”?
He Yunxing was way too easy to fool.
She rolled over onto the bed, propping her legs up and swaying them in the air. What she didn’t realize was that, at this moment, she was smiling—her dimples deep and sweet.
[X.]: Still not asleep?
[Fei Fei Eats Pear]: Yeah. The corner of my mouth got scratched, it hurts. I’m a little mad. Can’t sleep.
He Yunxing, who was usually quick to reply, suddenly went silent.
Bian Li didn’t mind. She went ahead and asked when she could return his jacket.
That was, after all, her real reason for messaging him tonight.
[X.]: Just give it back to me during the New Year’s Eve stage.
[Fei Fei Eats Pear]: Huh?
The word ‘why’ hovered in her mind but never made it onto the screen.
They were so close; she thought she could return it right away. But there were only four or five days left until the end of the year—she could wait.
Just as she was about to happily agree and say goodnight, He Yunxing sent two more messages, back to back—
[X.]: What, can’t wait?
[X.]: You can come to my room now.
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