Jing Qichi had checked into an apartment-style hotel near the school. To the left of the entrance was a bathroom, relatively spacious; to the right, an electromagnetic stove and sink for simple cooking, with kitchenware stored in overhead cabinets. Inside was a large open space—a queen-sized bed, a single study desk, a wardrobe built into the wall, and floor-to-ceiling windows that opened onto a small half-meter-wide balcony. Huan'er immediately headed for the balcony, where the view of the university-affiliated hospital greeted her. She pointed excitedly, "I can see my dorm building from here!"
Past midnight, the scene was tranquil.
Jing Qichi picked up his glasses from the desk, put them on, and walked over to her. "I always stay here when I visit, but I can never figure out which room is yours."
Huan'er squinted but still shook her head. "I can't tell either."
She had never seen the dorm from this angle before—the windows all looked identical, making it hard to distinguish.
"Anyway, the lights go out at eleven-thirty," Jing Qichi said, gazing into the distance. "Once they're off, I just assume you're asleep."
A sudden lump formed in Huan'er's throat, moved and touched. She buried her face in his chest, suddenly understanding what he must have thought every night during his long journey from Beijing to the south.
Perhaps—just perhaps—Jing Qichi's feelings for her ran deeper than hers for him.
"Don't you think," Jing Qichi said affectionately, ruffling her hair, "all the places we've lived in have been red?" After a brief pause, he continued, "In the future, I want to buy a red house like this and live there with you for a long, long time."
Truthfully, Huan'er had been carrying a weight in her heart before coming here.
She had wanted to solemnly tell him her decision—Qi Chi, I plan to pursue a Ph.D., which means we’ll be apart for four or five years.
But at this moment, Chen Huan'er hesitated. It wasn’t about the future—she simply felt that at this perfect midnight hour, bringing up such a decision would be too cruel.
She broke free from his embrace and said lightly, "I'm going to take a shower."
Jing Qichi watched as she crouched down, deftly pulled out a T-shirt from his suitcase, then kicked off her sneakers and socks before padding barefoot to the bathroom. His thoughts drifted far ahead—to thirty or forty years from now, he wasn’t sure. The only certainty was that he absolutely, without question, had to keep Chen Huan'er by his side.
He knew all too well that he could no longer live without her.
When Huan'er emerged from the shower, she was met with the man's intense gaze. She quickly jumped onto the bed and burrowed under the covers, muttering softly, "Hurry up and shower."
Jing Qichi smirked, pinched her cheek, and headed to the bathroom.
It was rushed—a quick lather of shower gel and rinse, though he took extra care with certain areas.
After drying off with a towel, Jing Qichi hesitated but ultimately pulled on a T-shirt and underwear.
Even though he knew—and knew Huan'er was ready—another first in their lives was about to unfold tonight.
It started with a kiss, tentative at first, then deepening as he pressed into her, lost in the moment. Huan'er nearly suffocated, mustering the last of her rationality to push him away slightly. "Do you have any dark clothes? I don’t want to stain the sheets."
Jing Qichi simply stripped off his white T-shirt and laid it beneath her. "There."
"You..." Huan'er was breathless from the relentless kisses, mumbling a complaint, "You're pressing into me."
Jing Qichi braced his arms on the pillow, torn between laughter and exasperation. "What else did you expect?"
"Hard.""Silly girl, if it's not hard, then there's a problem." Before the words faded, he took her earlobe into his mouth—soft, sweet, and carrying the scent of rose shower gel. So this was her taste.
He lifted her clothes, revealing everything hidden yet alluring. Jing Qichi felt his own body surging with change, like a sponge soaking in water, expanding endlessly. The water was both bait and poison, and he willingly endured the swelling ache, sinking deeper.
The moment he took her into his mouth, he thought of the cotton candy he often ate as a child.
But this was rose-flavored cotton candy, melting instantly on his tongue—something he'd never tasted before. At first, he licked gently, restraining his urge to suck, teasing the shy small lotus tips with the tip of his tongue. But soon, the cotton candy turned into hard candy, the stark shift in texture making his movements rougher. His teeth grazed lightly, the intense stimulation drawing faint yet continuous moans from Huan'er.
Jing Qichi had always been a self-taught master.
He ventured downward, his fingertips brushing through a patch of grass, finding an ocean deep within the marsh.
The stream continued to flow, offering its sweet nectar.
"Qi Chi, Qi Chi."
Huan'er called his name, her voice dripping with allure.
It was their first time, and though he didn’t quite know what to do, it seemed he was doing it right.
Jing Qichi buried his face in the crook of her neck, his voice hoarse as he asked, "Is this okay?"
"Mhm," Huan'er answered.
He grabbed the supplies they'd just bought, fumbling to tear open the packaging and roll it on. A little tight—for a moment, a ridiculous thought flashed through his mind: Well, at least it won’t slip off.
And so, their journey of exploration pressed onward, deeper.
Pain. Excruciating, bone-deep pain. Worse than punching a sandbag bare-handed, worse than a needle piercing a vein, worse than all the pain she'd ever felt combined. Huan'er, drenched in sweat, wrapped her arms around his neck, fists clenched tight. The pain came in waves, each surge more overwhelming than the last, tears springing from the corners of her eyes.
She thought she heard something shatter.
Jing Qichi caught her falling tears, tasting the saltiness on his lips as he stroked her hair and whispered, "It's okay, it's okay."
They couldn’t stop. Not when the person they loved most was right there. Neither of them could.
Their first time—clumsy, yet blissful.
He kissed her fiercely, driving himself deeper into that wet marsh. Tighter, deeper. Every attempt to pull away only drew him back with greater force. He saw Huan'er gripping the sheets, the sweat beading on her forehead, her face—tensed yet breathtakingly beautiful.
Huan'er couldn’t swim. On beach vacations, she always avoided the water activities—she valued her life, after all, having barely escaped death once before. She never took risks. But in the dead of this silent night, she suddenly felt as if she were surfing—a wave was coming, terrifying yet thrilling, until the thrill overtook the fear, carrying her to the peak.
Drenched, Huan'er heard a low growl.
Yes, something like a growl.
The sensation lingered, like staying up all night to witness the first sliver of dawn on the horizon—exhausting, joyful, worth it.
Jing Qichi kissed her forehead and smiled, his eyes bright as stars.
He said, "All your firsts belong to me."
"Hm?" Huan'er, utterly spent, shook her head weakly. "Not my first kiss."
In her memory, that belonged to her ex-boyfriend.There's no need to hide it; the past is also a part of life, and she could face it with openness.
"True," Jing Qichi affirmed. "In our senior year of high school, there was a time you fell asleep."
He had never mentioned it to anyone, not even the person involved.
That year, he was doing homework at her house when he encountered a difficult problem and remembered he had a reference book at home. He wanted to say goodbye but found Huan'er had fallen asleep—her long lashes resting over her eyes, her breathing steady and peaceful. He kissed her, lips to lips, his face nearly pressed against the desk. It was their first kiss, known to no one but the stars and the moon.
Later, he went home alone to fetch the book, and Huan'er was furious, thinking he had looked down on her.
No, never. At least not because of you.
He couldn't say it, so Jing Qichi had never spoken of it.
After his father's sudden passing, he had doubted the idea of lasting love for a long time. It was Chen Huan'er who saved him—slowly, steadily, without haste. Affection stretched into love over the years, growing deeper with each passing day.
He had been jealous, regretful, and even clenched his fists to punch the wall on sleepless nights—why hadn't he told her sooner? Why had he pretended not to care when he saw her with someone else?
Fortunately, all that was in the past.
Huan'er belatedly pinched his arm. "Jing Qichi!"
"Stop messing around," Jing Qichi pulled her into his arms, secretly smiling. "Keep it up, and I'll punish you."
Huan'er quieted down. Her bones already felt like jelly—she couldn't handle another round.
After a long while, she nudged the man beside her, who was resting with his eyes closed. "Did you like me very early on?"
Exhausted from the day's travels, Jing Qichi mumbled, "Yeah, very, very early."
Huan'er pressed further, "How early?"
Too drowsy to resist, he instinctively held her tighter. "You don't need to know."
"Why?"
"Just... you don't need to know..."
Jing Qichi drifted off to sleep—his long but fulfilling day had come to an end.
"Qi Chi," Huan'er reached up to touch his eyebrows, murmuring, "Will you blame me?"
Maybe it would cost "us," but this is the only choice I have. There's something I want to do.
The night was silent, time paused.
She thought she wouldn't get an answer.
A long while later, just as Huan'er's eyelids grew heavy and she slipped into a light sleep while holding him, she heard his reply: "No. I won't."
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