The shadows of roadside trees slid backward as they headed north.
Su Yuejin’s address was in an upscale district—average price: 40,000 yuan per square meter. Lin An felt a faint pang. Not that he was shocked she lived there… just another quiet sting of life’s wealth gap.
In the taxi, Su Yuejin stayed silent, cheeks flushed, nestled in Lin An’s arms like a tamed fawn. Occasionally, her tongue-tip brushed his neck where her mark lingered.
Lin An watched the passing streets. Her place was close—ten minutes. He helped her out, paid the fare, and slammed the door shut, ignoring the driver’s lingering stare.
“Which building and floor?”
“Building 7, 12th floor, 1202.” She snuggled tighter. As Lin An guided her upstairs, he caught a whiff of her perfume.
“What brand?” he asked.
“Chance.”
“Mm.” He led her into the elevator. She entered the door code without hiding it. Inside, he glanced around: a lavish three-bedroom apartment, AC humming softly, a slight chill in the air.
“Which room is yours?”
“Whichever.”
He picked one. But she lay limp on the sofa. Lin An slid one hand under her hips, the other beneath her back, and carried her to bed.
Her eyes sparkled—bright yet shy, like distant stars.
Lin An turned to leave. Su Yuejin froze, scrambled up, and tugged his sleeve. “Where are you going?”
“Home.”
“It’s late…” Her words slurred, breathless, lips trembling.
“I know. Still can catch a cab.”
“Let me boil water first.” He gently freed her hand, found the kettle, checked the fridge—empty. *Odd. Regular drinkers keep water handy.*
He waited for it to boil, then poured it between two bowls until cool. Carrying it in, his hand nearly slipped.
She’d removed the strapless dress.
Leaning against the bed, her long legs slightly bent, skin glowing under lamplight. Delicate feet, toes curled. Her chest was modest yet shapely—but Lin An’s gaze lingered on her slender collarbone, her smooth thighs. He froze for four seconds.
She left the blanket off, cheeks flushing under his stare, fingers gripping the sheets.
He set the cup down, forced his eyes away. *Leave. Now. She’s drunk, lonely… don’t fall for it.*
*All Badwomen… must die.*
She scooted closer in a W-sitting pose, tilting her head up with a sweet, coquettish voice: “Bring me water.”
He handed it over. She sipped—then “accidentally” spilled it down her front. Not hot, but she looked flustered.
“I’m wet…” Her collarbone glistened; damp lingerie clung to her skin, droplets tracing down to her thighs.
“Wipe it off,” Lin An said, throat dry.
“Wipe *me*,” she pleaded, voice soft and sweet.
He didn’t move.
“Pleeease?”
Lin An stirred—and so did his pants.
He took tissues, expression edged with mockery. “Are you seducing me?”
Silence.
Then she wrapped her arms around his neck, whispering near his ear: “Yes! I’m a bad woman… so what?”
“I’m not the innocent boy you think. Not my first time.”
“You’re lying~ hehe.” She laughed—silly, sweet.
Lin An leaned in and kissed her deeply.
“When…?” she murmured, gripping his hand, eyes closed.
“You won’t leave…?”
Then—unexpectedly—she cried out in pain.
……………………………………
3 a.m. Su Yuejin sat on the bed’s edge, smoking. Tissues on the floor held faint bloodstains. *Most girls don’t bleed with care… guess I’m unlucky.* A dull ache remained, smoke curling around her.
Lin An gently held her. “Sleep. Don’t smoke.”
She turned, kissed his cheek like a candy-begging child. “Say you like me.”
Her eyes shone—like streetlamps, like fireworks.
“I like you,” Lin An said, meeting her gaze.
She stubbed the half-smoked cigarette, burrowed under covers, lifted the blanket for him. He lay down. She hugged him tight—like a giant teddy bear.
“Sleep well. Goodnight.” He kissed her forehead. Her smile was sweet, content, already drifting off.
5 a.m. Lin An slipped from her curled embrace, dressed silently in the dark.
A whisper: “Why… up…?”
“Bathroom.”
“Oh… hehe.”
He used her finger to unlock her phone, opened WeChat.
“Wha… doing?”
“WeChat.”
“Nickname… ‘Little Princess’!”
He scanned her payment QR, transferred half the cocktail cost—plus one extra yuan. A teasing smirk touched his lips… then faded at her genuinely sweet, trusting smile.
“Su Yuejin.”
“Hm?”
“You’re sleepy?”
“Mm! Hurry back, dummy…”
“I will.” Seconds later, she was deeply asleep.
Lin An paused, breathed deep. “Su Yuejin… you never asked my name. Not when we met, kissed, held each other… or slept together.”
Only soft murmurs answered. He slipped out quietly.
*If I stayed out all night… I’d have to let go of that tiny hope.*
He opened his door. The girl waiting for him was already asleep—peaceful, breathing softly.
He carried her to bed, tucked her in. She mumbled where he’d been. He just smiled, asked the same. She had no answer. Neither did he.
He slept two hours, went to school at eight, napped between classes. After dismissal, Su Yuejin stood by his classroom door.
She pulled him to the back garden.
Now—present day. Su Yuejin wore an oversized white T-shirt. Her legs were still lovely, though her face looked tired. But she smiled when she found him.
Facing her accusation about it being her first time, Lin An’s expression stayed calmly puzzled.
“But… it was your choice, right?”
“Yes,” she bit out.
“So don’t blame it all on me. I transferred money because *you* treated me. Let’s go Dutch. Haidilao’s on me, though.”
“What?!”
“I mean nothing.”
“So one Haidilao meal means you sleep with me and walk away?!” Tears shimmered in her eyes.
Lin An finally laughed—a cheeky, genuine chuckle. “Of course not! But last night… did you *ask* me to take responsibility?”
“You said you liked me.” Her voice trembled, eyelashes quivering.
“Humoring a sleepy girl. Do *you* believe it? I don’t.”
Understanding dawned. She’d been tricked. This boy-faced guy didn’t care. Didn’t want responsibility.
Her nose stung. Last night felt like a shadow under bursting bubbles.
She slapped him. “Scum!”
He didn’t flinch. Watched her stride away proudly. Softly, behind her: “Su Yuejin… do you even know my name?”
Her steps halted.
“You want love, care, romance… but when I was with you, you never asked who I was. Did you?”
“But blame me if you want. Say it’s all my fault. Happy?”
She turned slowly, seeing mockery—or self-mockery—in his eyes.
Phone raised, gaze locked: “One chance. Add me.”
“No thanks.”
“Don’t regret it!”
“Never will.” Lin An waved, smiling, as she walked away.
