The night was faintly dim, the light overhead flickering weakly. In front of her stood a young man in a simple black windbreaker and trousers.
He put away his phone, dark eyes looking at her. “Took a cab back by yourself?”
Jian Nian stood up and brushed off her clothes, casually pointing toward the bus stop she’d come from. “Took that back.”
She picked up the paper from the ground and tossed it into the row of trash cans nearby.
The boy’s brow furrowed slightly. “Don’t take it after school tomorrow. I’ll come pick you up.”
Jian Nian tilted her head. “Why?”
“The road you walk has no streetlights. It’s not safe.” His tone was flat as he crouched down in front of her.
Jian Nian naturally lay against his back, letting him carry her, heading into the building. “Oh, okay.”
The old residential complex had no elevator, and their floor was the top one, the seventh. Jian Nian had been born with a weak constitution, sickly and frail—she could climb three flights at most before needing to stop and catch her breath for a good while.
The stairwell was narrow, with plenty of residents’ junk cluttering the way. The boy carried her on his back, weaving around the clutter as he climbed.
Jian Nian rested against his shoulder. She was sensitive to smells, and caught a faint whiff of cigarette smoke beneath the cool, clean scent on him, coughing twice.
“Smoking’s bad for your health,” she said sincerely. “My mom’s distant cousin died from smoking.”
“Mm.”
The boy responded calmly.
He set her down on the stair landing, took off his windbreaker jacket, draped it over his arm, then carried her again.
Underneath was a black T-shirt. Her body pressed against his back, she could clearly feel the higher temperature of his body, and the warm, damp air of his breath.
Jian Nian’s arms circled his neck, the red string around her wrist hanging loose. She was getting a bit sleepy.
They reached the ground, he opened the door, and Jian Nian followed him inside.
The room was small, a standard single. A bed a little over a meter wide, a desk, a small dining table, two chairs—one glance took in the whole layout.
The boy took her bag from her, paused slightly when he pulled out the thermos, then hung the bag up.
He turned on the AC, set the insulated bag he’d carried the whole way on the table, took out a slice of strawberry cake, stuck a fork in it, and pushed it toward her. “Dinner will be a bit.”
He tossed down his jacket and went into the kitchen. | B L A C K L O T U S Novel Reading | BLACK LOTUS NOVEL
The door stayed shut. The sound of running water came from inside.
The weather was hot, so Jian Nian went to the bathroom.
She didn’t undress first—she stood on tiptoe to take down the showerhead, let the water run for a few minutes, feeling with her fingertips until it gradually warmed, before starting her shower.
She’d figured out this water heater’s quirks by now. The mistake of getting doused with cold water wouldn’t happen a second time.
When she’d first arrived, there’d only been shampoo and soap on the shelf. Now it was crowded with bottles and jars, with pink towels hanging beside them.
After her shower, she changed into a nightgown and shuffled out in soft slippers, sitting at the desk, reading while slowly eating her cake.
The kitchen noises stopped, the door opened, letting out a bit of cooking smoke, and the boy came out.
He glanced at her calmly with his dark eyes, grabbed a change of clothes, and went to quickly rinse off in the bathroom.
He stood behind her afterward, drying her hair. The red string on his thin wrist swayed lightly. His jaw was pale and cool, lashes half-lowered, the light scattering fine shadows beneath his eyes.
“Sour?”
The paper tray of cake was finished, only two or three strawberries left, one of them half-bitten.
Jian Nian was busy memorizing key terms, nodding vaguely, mumbling an absent reply. “Mhm, mhm.”
Once her hair was dry, the boy put away the hair dryer, casually picked up the fork to spear the remaining strawberries and eat them, then cleared away the empty tray and tossed it in the trash.
A few seconds later, he gave a faint hum. “Yeah, pretty sour.”
Dinner was fairly light fare. Afterward, the boy got up to clear the dishes and take them to the kitchen.
A while later, he grabbed his jacket. “Still some things to finish up at the studio.”
Jian Nian nodded. “Okay.”
She turned back to her reading, her phone playing a recorded lecture alongside it.
She didn’t know much about him—only that he was 19 this year, a year older than her, also at Huai University, just a different college, a junior in the School of Science.
As for the studio, it seemed to be something he’d set up with a few friends. He was busy with it—aside from the night he brought her back, when he’d slept on a mat beside her, he’d been sleeping at the studio ever since.
One session of advanced math ended with none of it sinking in—she seemed to understand and yet understand nothing at all. She’d never had any talent for schoolwork; she’d hired plenty of tutors just to get into Huai University.
Jian Nian slumped over the table, her heart thudding dully, aching, her breath a little short.
As if remembering something, she suddenly lifted her head, grabbed her phone, and started pestering him again.
【What are you doing?】
A few seconds later, a message popped up.
L: 【Testing a program.】
L: 【Class again tomorrow morning. Sleep early.】
The classes she’d missed still weren’t made up, and now new material on top of it, plus CET-4 and CET-6, with finals month approaching too. Invisible mountains pressed down on her, one after another.
Jian Nian dropped her phone, turned off the light, and flopped back onto the bed.
Clear moonlight streamed in through the small window.
She raised her hand—the red string on her wrist held a tiny silver moon charm, giving off a faint sheen.
…
She’d stayed up a bit too late last night. Waking early out of habit, she was still groggy with sleep. Jian Nian struggled up for a few seconds before her head sank back into the pillow, mind completely blank.
After wrestling with the pillow for a while, Jian Nian sat up, her long hair falling loosely over her pale shoulders and down her back.
Breakfast sat steaming on the table. The boy sat by the table, fingers moving lightly, the faint clatter of his laptop keyboard sounding.
Seeing she was awake, his dark eyes swept over her, then withdrew. “The clothes to wear are on the chair.”
“Oh.”
Jian Nian sat blankly for a few seconds, then grabbed the hem of her nightgown, pulled it off over her head, took the dress from the chair and pulled it on, tugging it down to straighten it out.
The computer screen glowed, characters flickering across it.
“Looks like there’s an error—don’t you need to deal with it?” Jian Nian asked, a little puzzled, looking at the boy whose head was turned toward the doorway.
The boy was quiet for two seconds, then turned to handle it, his tone flat.
“Go wash up.”
The small balcony had yesterday’s washed clothes hanging on it. Jian Nian walked past them into the bathroom. After breakfast, the boy took her to school.
He drove a car that sat idle in the garage of one of his studio partners—apparently some rich young master who’d joined the studio just for fun.
Jian Nian was still drowsy when he dropped her off at school, not quite awake. She unscrewed the thermos and took a sip—it was a vegetable and fruit juice.
It tasted pretty good, so she drank a bit more.
…
Finals were drawing closer, finals month had arrived, and the whole campus atmosphere had turned tense. Black Lotus Novel Chapter | BlackLotusNovel
The unit test scores came out. Jian Nian stared at the glaring red numbers, her chest tightening, breath coming short.
In the chat window with 【Mom】, she typed and deleted, back and forth, before finally slamming it shut.
【What are you doing?】she asked him instead.
L: 【In a meeting.】
That eased things a little. She was about to put her phone down when a new message suddenly came in.
It was from that Ragdoll cat profile picture.
【So you’re Brother Lu’s girlfriend?】
Jian Nian glanced at it, didn’t reply, and kept listening to the lecture.
A while later, a few more messages came in.
【Could you not be so clingy? It’s just dating, you don’t need to go overboard.】
【Checking up on him eight hundred times a day, waiting on you hand and foot like you’re some ancestor, cooking and doing your laundry, and the studio’s swamped but he still has to drive you to and from school.】
Class ended, people starting to rise, filing out one after another.
It seemed to be one of his friends. Jian Nian’s amber eyes held a trace of confusion as she picked up her phone. 【He’s my boyfriend, isn’t this what he’s supposed to do?】
The other person: 【……】
The other person: 【Fine, let’s not beat around the bush.】
【This money, plus a car on top of it—that should cover what he was supported with those years, right? I’ll pay him back for you.】
…
Jian Nian sat on a bench, the banyan tree’s dappled light falling over her, her slightly curled hair dyed to flecks of gold by the sun.
Before the Jian family went bankrupt, they’d sponsored some financially struggling students through school. He’d been one of them.
His friend said he only took care of her now, in her fallen state, to repay a debt of gratitude—not out of love, but out of a sense of duty and decency.
His friend said this was a critical period for his business, and hoped she’d accept the money and let him go.
Jian Nian found herself wondering—what was love, anyway?
Not far off, Professor Lin of love psychology had just finished class, and Professor Zhao of advanced math took his thermos from him, shook it, pointed at him scolding a few words, and the two walked off side by side toward home.
Along the road, young couples on campus strolled hand in hand, huddling together in the shade, whispering to each other.
Jian Nian remembered what Professor Lin had said—that love was passion, intimacy, and commitment.
Physical attraction and impulse, psychological connection and understanding, and the decision and responsibility to maintain the relationship.
“Been waiting long?”
A faint cool scent drifted into her nose. Jian Nian looked up—the boy stood in front of her.
She got up, shook her head. “Let’s go.”
“Mm.” He responded, casually taking her bag from her.
The two walked, one in front of the other, always a hand’s width of distance between them.
Jian Nian lowered her eyes, looking at his hand hanging at his side. Only then did she realize—they’d never held hands.
They got in the car, and he drove her home.
The scenery drifted past the window in stretches, the sky darkening, streetlights dyeing the night a dim yellow.
Inside the car, silence. Only the sound of driving.
Jian Nian gazed quietly out the window. During class, she’d often see the couple in front chatting through the whole lecture—about past experiences, what shows they’d watched, what they liked, what they wanted for dinner, complaining about how annoying studying was and not wanting to go to class.
None of that, she knew.
The two of them rarely talked. Aside from necessary daily exchanges, all that was left were those “checking up on you” messages she sent him.
They got home.
As usual, he carried the groceries into the kitchen and shut the door to cook.
Jian Nian showered, changed into her nightgown, and sat reading at the desk. Half an hour passed, and she hadn’t turned more than two pages.
After dinner, he cleared the dishes and went to the kitchen.
“I won’t be back at noon tomorrow. There’s lunch in the fridge for tomorrow, just heat it up. Do you know how to use the gas stove?”
Jian Nian shook her head. · black lotus Reading — BLACK LOTUS NOVEL
The boy stood behind her, bending slightly, his fingers clearly turning the gas knob. “Like this. Press it in first, then twist to the left.”
The kitchen was small, cramped. With the two of them standing like this, when he leaned in close his body brushed against her back, warm and damp heat pressing against her.
But it was only two seconds before he quickly stepped back, as if avoiding suspicion. “You try.”
Jian Nian stayed still for a few seconds, then her slender pale fingers imitated his movements, pressing in, twisting.
A flame shot up, pale blue.
Outside the small window, the night wind blew in, the flame flickering, blending into the deepening night.
The sound of running water stirred in the kitchen, along with the clink of dishes.
Jian Nian sat in her chair, gently swinging her legs, the hem of her nightgown swaying with them.
The water stopped, and the boy came out in a black T-shirt, casually setting a bowl of cut watermelon on her desk, about to step back.
Jian Nian tilted her head up to look at him, and asked softly.
“Do you want to kiss?”
The boy suddenly stilled, his dark eyes lowering to look at her.
The air went abruptly silent.
They stared at each other, neither speaking.
A minute passed, or maybe it was only a few short seconds. The boy leaned down toward her, the cool clean scent and warm damp breath drawing closer.
Jian Nian’s lashes trembled slightly.
The red string on his wrist brushed past the hair by her ear.
He reached out and took the jacket draped over the back of her chair, straightened up, his expression calm, his tone flat as he spoke.
“Things are busy at the studio. I’ll head out now. Sleep early.”
The door closed, footsteps quickly receding.
The room sank back into a silence like the night itself, still and soundless, save for a bead of water sliding slowly down the rim of the bowl, dropping onto the tabletop.
