Seeing He Fang sitting with her hands neatly folded on her lap like a quiet, well-behaved young lady, Qin's mother smiled warmly. "You two chat. I'll go do some shopping. Why not stay for lunch?"
"No need to trouble yourself, Auntie," Why Not replied, waving her hand quickly. "I'll just sit for a bit, then head back."
Qin's mother turned to her son. "Are you free for a while?" she asked Qin Guanglin.
"Huh?" Qin Guanglin, preoccupied with trying to steer the conversation back on track, replied absentmindedly, "Oh, nothing planned."
"Then stay for lunch," she decided. "You're Xiaolinzi's friend. No need to be so formal—settled!" She picked up her vegetable basket and headed out the door.
He Fang took a sip of the water in front of her as Qin's mother left. Once she was gone, He Fang stood up, smiling at Qin Guanglin. "Alright, let's go check out your studio."
"This way," Qin Guanglin said, rising to lead her there. He checked his watch as he did—a little before eleven. Lunch already?
"Feels like an artist's workspace," he remarked, glancing around at the scattered papers, pens, and inks. Only the area directly in front of the drawing board was clean.
"Uh..." Qin Guanglin scratched his head, feeling slightly embarrassed, and started to gather up the mess on the floor.
"You don't have to clean up just for me." She moved over, taking a trash bag and getting to work with practiced efficiency. Soon, she had organized waste paper, plain sheets, test color scraps, and carefully flattened paper balls in neat stacks.
In no time, the place looked noticeably more organized. She stood back, admiring her work. "Ah, much better."
"Thank you," Qin Guanglin said, realizing it did look better than if he'd done it himself.
"Think of it as my thanks for lunch." He Fang stepped out of the studio, casting a playful glance back. "Now, where's your room? Let me guess."
"Wait—" Qin Guanglin's eyes widened. She wasn't planning on cleaning his bedroom either, was she?
She narrowed her eyes thoughtfully, laid a hand on one door handle, and glanced back at him before stepping inside.
He quickly followed, feeling a mix of alarm and embarrassment. It was indeed his room, but he couldn't just let her start cleaning it too.
Isn't it odd for a girl to come over and tidy up a guy's room?
Fortunately, she only stepped in to look around. Taking a deep breath, she turned back to him. "Whew… I'm a little tired."
Qin Guanglin's chest tightened in panic—was the room smelly? He took a quick, discreet breath. Nope, nothing bad. He aired it out daily.
Before he could say anything, Why Not took two steps forward and lay down on his bed.
"Go ahead, rest if you need to," Qin Guanglin mumbled, scratching his nose, feeling awkward.
He Fang turned her head slightly on the pillow, patting the empty space beside her. "Come on over."
"Why?" he asked, hesitating.
She rolled her eyes. "I'm not going to bite you. Look at your dark circles—just lie down and relax for a minute."
After thinking it over, he decided, Why not? His room, his bed—nothing to be nervous about. He reluctantly lay down beside her, staring at the ceiling, still a little tense.
She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, then opened them to glance at him. "You know, we're lying in bed together."
"What?!" Qin Guanglin bolted up. "Don't say things like that! I thought you just wanted to rest."
"Relax. This is your house, your room." She chuckled. "Okay, I'm just teasing. Come back here."
He looked down at her and, not feeling as embarrassed, kneeled at the head of the bed, trying to bring up last night's events. "Um, about last night..."
"Hmm?" She opened one eye, then looked away mischievously. "You confessed to me last night. I haven't given you an answer yet."
"What? I didn't confess!" he sputtered, almost falling for her trick.
She pouted slightly. "You did—downstairs at my dorm. After that, you kissed me," she added in a softer tone, hiding her face in the quilt, kicking her feet lightly.
For a second, Qin Guanglin felt confused. Did he really confess last night? Could he be misremembering?
But wait… he hadn't done anything like that!
"You..." he started, then paused, inspiration striking. He leaned forward. "Alright, if I confessed, do you accept?"
She looked up, lips curling into a grin. "Not so fast. You'll have to confess properly first."
He smiled slightly, feeling more relaxed. "Fine."
Straightening up, he looked her in the eye and said, "I like you. Why not? Will you go out with me?"
Suddenly, there was a loud bump from the living room. Both of them turned—he'd forgotten to close the door.
Qin's mother was back, carrying her groceries, rubbing her knee. "Oh, my ears must be playing tricks. I keep bumping into things!"
Qin Guanglin's face flushed red. He quickly got up to close the door and turned back to He Fang, who was covering her face with her hands, peeking through her fingers with a grin. "Your mom heard your confession. If I don't say yes, I'll never get to eat lunch here again."
"You did that on purpose." He felt a mix of frustration and amusement.
"No way! How was I supposed to know Auntie was back?"
"You totally planned this!"
Why not just sit up, giving him a smile as she walks over to the door?
"What now?" he asked, feeling a bit nervous again.
"I'm going out," she replied, standing close, that same mischievous smile in her eyes.
"Oh," he stepped aside, allowing her to pass. He wasn't planning to go out just yet.
Before he could say another word, she leaned in, gently kissed his cheek, and was gone.
In the kitchen, he heard her chatting with his mother.
"Auntie, let me help you."
"Oh, no need! You and Xiaolinzi should go rest."
"It's fine. I cook all the time at home."
"You're so capable! Where's your family from?"
"From Hecheng, not far from Los Angeles."
"Hecheng, I see! Such wonderful young women from there... Oh dear, this blood needs cleaning."
"It's fine; I'll wash it."
Qin Guanglin listened, feeling slightly dazed, a hand drifting to his cheek where she'd kissed him.
Isn't he supposed to be the older one? Why did it feel like she was leading him around? With a sigh, he looked toward the kitchen, then closed his door and flopped onto his bed.
Wait... Why does this quilt smell funny?