Like Xiao He, Though It Hurt Quite a Bit

He Zhuoming spoke face-to-face with Tang Shuyu, already within very close range.

Of course, not as close as that day when they nearly kissed.

Still, their eyes were level, and the short distance was enough for Tang Shuyu to make out the girl's round, bright eyes, the skin around her dark brows red, the flush clear even in the night.

When she asked him, there was an obvious, uncontrollable smile on her face—a kind of "I knew it" excitement, triumph, and joy.

He Zhuoming deliberately kept her breathing light, and Tang Shuyu, after she spoke, immediately held his breath as well.

Because he realized it was a breath that had given him away. But holding his breath now was clearly too late. He Zhuoming's faint breaths drifted onto his cheek in wisps. He lowered his long, thick lashes, gaze dropping to her nose and lips.

He Zhuoming waited for his answer, blinking softly now and then. A fine layer of sweat on her nose made her pretty face glisten.

Looking at her moist face, Tang Shuyu felt a dull, hot restlessness rising in his chest.

He Zhuoming's heartbeat, close by, thumped against the back of his skull, disturbing him. The palm braced on the floor seemed to itch and ache again. He curled his fingers, scratching the ground uselessly.

Tang Shuyu stayed quiet, and He Zhuoming had to kneel to bring herself to his eye level.

Kneeling was fine for a while, but it got tiring on the knees and back. He Zhuoming lacked endurance. In the long silence, she couldn't help shifting, leaning half against Tang Shuyu's shoulder, letting him take some of her weight.

His shoulder dipped slightly. He turned his head away, not looking at her face. "Nonsense. That day, I was just measuring the distance."

He Zhuoming: "What distance?"

Tang Shuyu pushed her arm off his shoulder. "Something Xiao He has already forgotten."

He Zhuoming didn't believe him. "Impossible. How can there be something I forgot but you remember? Your memory is worse than mine!"

As she spoke, she leaned closer, like a puppy eager to know if its friend had eaten something it stole. Tang Shuyu felt her almost press against his chest, so he covered her face with his hand and pushed her away.

Tang Shuyu: "Anyway, there is."

He Zhuoming: "Then tell me."

Tang Shuyu felt inexplicably annoyed. "You don't remember... so why say it?"

He was irritated now. He wanted to shove her back to her shabby hometown, but he couldn't bring himself to push hard.

Xiao He was so weak—she could fall into a river after a few steps. If he used any force, she might fall and die.

But He Zhuoming wasn't considerate. She didn't notice how dangerous Tang Shuyu was right now—or maybe she did, but since Tang Shuyu never did much worse when angry, she wasn't afraid of him.

She pulled his hand off her face and pressed on. "How can I know if you don't say? Fine, let's say I forgot and won't remember—but you wanted to kiss me that day, right?"

Tang Shuyu: "No, I—"

Before he could finish, He Zhuoming grabbed his wrist, pulled him closer, closed her eyes, and bumped into his cheek with a kiss.

He Zhuoming had no experience kissing. She only knew from TV dramas and comics that it looked beautiful and the leads seemed to enjoy it.

But in practice, there was a huge mistake.

She didn't aim right.

She'd meant to kiss his cheek, maybe even his lips, but that felt too fast, and she'd be shy, so she'd settled for the cheek first. As for thoughts like "is this too early for love," she'd thrown those out long ago.

But she'd overestimated her coordination with her eyes closed, and Tang Shuyu's brain was completely offline. She crashed into him, nose first, on his face.

And hard.

Tang Shuyu's head snapped back; his cheek stung. He sucked in a sharp breath.

For a moment, the fragile emotions were knocked clean away. Tang Shuyu laughed in disbelief, hand over his cheek. "Xiao He, is this your plan to murder me? I never knew you had such rebellious potential."

He Zhuoming stood frozen, staring at Tang Shuyu's deep gaze, and whispered, "My nose feels hot... did I break it?"

Tang Shuyu smiled. "Wouldn't be so bad—then next time you kiss someone else, you won't hit their nose."

He Zhuoming: "I won't kiss anyone else. I'll only kiss someone who likes me, and who I like..."

She was still talking, but Tang Shuyu, holding his cheek, leaned in to look at her nose. The bridge and tip were red, and as she kept talking, two streams of blood oozed out slowly.

He Zhuoming didn't realize she had a nosebleed. She kept murmuring.

Tang Shuyu pressed a handkerchief over her nose and gave a gentle squeeze. She cried out, "Ow, ow, ow!"

Tang Shuyu: "Too bad. The bridge isn't broken."

He Zhuoming was doubtful. "Really? But it feels all hot and sour inside... I really want some hot and sour noodles."

Tang Shuyu teased, "Who else could hurt both sides just by kissing someone's cheek?"

He Zhuoming froze, looked at Tang Shuyu's face. He was busy wiping her nosebleed, so he'd forgotten to hold his own cheek. From his jaw to his cheek, a patch of bruised red was slowly surfacing.

She immediately drooped, mumbling, "I didn't mean to... sorry. Does your face hurt a lot?"

"Probably not as much as your nose."

After saying that, Tang Shuyu lightly pinched her nose through the handkerchief. She hissed.

He found it funny, but he also cursed himself inwardly for being careless—why did he have to go pinch Xiao He's nose? Look how much it hurt her, her brows all scrunched up.

So thinking, Tang Shuyu pressed the handkerchief gently over her nose with one hand, and with the other, he tilted her chin up. "Tilt your head back. It'll stop the bleeding faster."

He Zhuoming gave a muffled "oh," obediently tilting her head, but her eyes still stole glances at his face.

Tang Shuyu: "Stop looking. It doesn't hurt."

He Zhuoming's face crumpled. "It's red. How can it not hurt?"

Tang Shuyu reassured her, "I have a high pain tolerance. Last time you were scared by the Corrupted Deity and nearly clawed my face off, and I healed quickly, right?"

He hadn't said much, but now He Zhuoming felt even worse.

Luckily, Tang Shuyu wasn't lying. His wounds did heal fast. He Zhuoming stared at his face and indeed found no other scars besides the fresh bruise.

But she was still upset, gloomy, and the more she looked, the sadder she got—because the more she looked, the more she saw how beautiful Tang Shuyu was, and she'd had a chance to kiss him, and he hadn't refused!

And then...

Did that count as a kiss or not?

He Zhuoming tried to recall, but no matter how many times she replayed those two or three seconds, she only remembered that it hurt a lot at the moment of impact. Tang Shuyu seemed hurt too, though he said it was fine, but she'd heard his sharp inhale.

The more she thought, the more dejected she became. She pushed his hand away and held the handkerchief to her nose herself. "I think it's stopped. I'll handle it."

After mumbling that, her head drooped unconsciously, her mouth pouted, listless.

Tang Shuyu sat across from her. Seeing that expression, what came to his mind instead was the moment He Zhuoming had caught him off guard, her eyes sparkling as she asked if he liked her—light, victorious, expectant, all sorts of gem-bright emotions floating on her glowing face.

Then he remembered the reckless kiss.

It hurt a lot, but Tang Shuyu was sure she'd kissed him.

Not the unaware feeling of dreams, not the dim, ambiguous afternoon behind the bed curtains. Clear, distinct, under the bright starry sky, He Zhuoming had truly kissed him.

And she'd said she would only kiss someone who liked her, and whom she liked.

Xiao He liked him, and he...

He liked Xiao He too.

The thought was as clear as the bruising kiss, and Tang Shuyu felt his heart beat fast.

"Xiao He."

He Zhuoming looked up. "Hm?"

Tang Shuyu braced himself with one hand on the floor, leaned down, and kissed her forehead. The movement was light. This time, no one was hurt. Only as he leaned in, the long bead chain by his ear swayed and brushed softly against He Zhuoming's cheek.

The beads were cold, but He Zhuoming couldn't feel it anymore—because her face was burning hot, and even her nose, sore from the bump, was warm, and she started bleeding again without realizing.

Tang Shuyu kissed once and leaned back. He Zhuoming stared at him, dazed.

Tang Shuyu looked back at her—and for the first time, He Zhuoming saw that his face could turn that red, so red that it almost hid the bruise she'd given him.

Tang Shuyu stood up. "Didn't you say you were hungry? Come on, let's go get a late-night snack."

He Zhuoming jumped up and hugged his arm. "So you really do like me?"

Tang Shuyu: "...Careful, you don't want to hit your nose again."

He Zhuoming, voice muffled: "I was very careful, so it's fine. Now answer me, answer me, answer me!"

Tang Shuyu countered, "Don't you like me?"

He Zhuoming: "That's different... You say it first! I'm a girl!"

She grabbed his arm and shook it, making his whole body sway. Tang Shuyu said, "I still..."

He Zhuoming: "What?"

Tang Shuyu: "Nothing."

He Zhuoming kept shaking him. "Finish your sentence! It's so annoying when you only say half!"

Tang Shuyu flicked her forehead with his finger, annoyed. "Talk properly, don't shake me like a bottle. You'll scramble my brains."

He Zhuoming obediently let go of his arm. But before she could pull back, Tang Shuyu reached out and took her hand.

His face remained casual, as if nothing had happened. "That's right. I like Xiao He, just like Xiao He likes me."

He Zhuoming automatically ignored the last part and only listened to what she wanted to hear.

She got the confession she'd wanted, and felt floaty and happy all over. Her nose hurt less, and she couldn't help touching her forehead where he'd kissed.

Besides her family, kindergarten teacher, and the fake groom in house play, Tang Shuyu was the first person to kiss her forehead!

As for all those worries about early love or rejection, her brain had already deleted them automatically.

Being liked was always a good thing. Being liked by someone you liked felt almost as good as hearing the English teacher say, "No class today, let's watch a movie." He Zhuoming looked down at their joined hands and felt it was all a dream.

Maybe it was her imagination, but going downstairs seemed faster than going up.

Her head was still spinning, and suddenly they were outside the tower.

The green horse stood under a crabapple tree near the tower gate. Seeing them come out, it ambled over to Tang Shuyu and nickered softly.

[The assembly can't wait any longer. You should return soon.]

Tang Shuyu grabbed the reins and asked He Zhuoming, "Do you want to ride?"

He Zhuoming shook her head like a rattle. "No! I'd rather walk!"

The days of riding on mountain paths had been hell on her bottom.

So, from the moment she'd left the mountains, she'd sworn: never again!

Tang Shuyu didn't care. He let go of the reins and patted the horse's head. The horse trotted off, understanding.

As for whether Tang Shuyu returned to the True Deity assembly... well, it had delivered the message. Whether his boss listened was not its business.

The green horse tried not to think about the young couple's held hands and spring-like gazes—though that atmosphere was lovely in the summer night, like the light fragrance of crabapple blossoms.

But if a beautiful thing was destined to have no outcome, thinking too much became cruel.

He Zhuoming turned to watch the horse's rump disappear into the distance, then asked Tang Shuyu, "Can Qing Yang wander around the Divine Palace too?"

Tang Shuyu answered, "Qing Yang knows where it may go and where it may not."

He led He Zhuoming forward. The dense crabapple trees parted ways, blooming branches separating to reveal a clear night sky. The stars and moon were especially bright, casting a quiet path before them.

He Zhuoming felt her nose had stopped bleeding, so she folded the soiled handkerchief and handed it back to Tang Shuyu.

She swung their joined hands as they walked, sometimes hopping a couple of steps, then twisting her head to stare at his profile.

From her angle, Tang Shuyu seemed not to be looking at her, but every time, after five or six seconds of her staring, he would precisely reach out and turn her head back.

Tang Shuyu: "Xiao He, I'm not a road. Watch where you're going—careful, you'll hit a tree."

After several times, Tang Shuyu finally noticed something odd about cute Xiao He: her hair was a mess.

She hadn't found her hair tie today, so she'd borrowed a ribbon from Xu Feixian.

He Zhuoming was never good with ribbons, so her hair was tied sloppily. After running around all day with Tang Shuyu, the ribbon had long come loose, tangled in her messy hair.

Strange, Tang Shuyu thought absently. Why did I only notice Xiao He's hair was this messy?

He was bothered by her messy hair, almost tempted to fix it himself... though he couldn't tie hair either.

Suddenly, He Zhuoming pulled him behind a tree, tugging his arm nervously. "Look!"

Only then did Tang Shuyu shift his attention from her hair to where she pointed. Without realizing it, they'd almost walked out of the crabapple grove. Ahead, not far off, was the corridor connecting the main hall and the stairs.

Moonlight was bright, illuminating a line of figures as white as snow, stretching from the back door of the main hall to the end of the steps.

The figures' faces were blurry, indistinguishable, their necks and white robes all the same color. They moved slowly up the stairs, like people queuing to buy something, but they had no shadows—only moonlight scattered on the ground beneath them.

He Zhuoming's heart thumped nervously. She whispered to Tang Shuyu, "What are those? Ghosts?"