Chapter 31: May I Touch Your Adam’s Apple?

Cheng Xingye rose and went to the mall’s smoking lounge for a cigarette. The film still had about half an hour left; by the time he finished, there were roughly ten minutes remaining, but he had no intention of returning to watch the rest.

Mostly, it was simply too easy to get distracted when sitting beside her.

He kept an eye on the time. When there were five minutes left until the movie ended, he went to the restroom to wash his face, then returned to the screening hall. He entered just as the film was ending, the credits rolling and the music playing.

The couple who had secretly loved each other for three years ultimately succumbed to the trials of time and distance. The relationship ended abruptly when the man met someone he believed more suitable for marriage.

Disappointed, the audience filed out one by one, leaving the vast hall nearly empty.

Cheng Xingye walked toward the third row from the back. Only as he drew near did he realize the young girl had fallen asleep at some point. Her elbow rested on the armrest, palm cupping her cheek, squishing her face into a soft, doughy bundle.

She was still wrapped in the trench coat he’d left for her when he stepped out, nestled comfortably in the plush seat, breathing quietly and steadily.

He was about to wake her when his phone vibrated in his pocket. Seeing that it was Lu Yi calling, he stood beside an empty seat and answered.

“She’s still alive, right?” Lu Yi’s lazy voice came through the line.

Cheng Xingye glanced over. Lu Qingyue was sleeping soundly, her lashes fluttering gently with each breath—clearly alive.

He pressed his lips together and replied calmly, “She’s breathing fine. The future looks promising.”

Lu Yi, hearing this, must have sighed in relief and pretended indifference with a chuckle. Although he and Lu Qingyue often fought after only a few words, they were siblings after all. Having handed her over to Cheng Xingye, he couldn’t help worrying, which was why he called to check in.

Learning that his sister was still with Cheng Xingye, Lu Yi was fully at ease but couldn’t resist a bit of complaint. “I really can’t handle her. Say a couple words and she’s in tears. Only you can endure this little troublemaker.”

“By the way, where are you two? Should I come pick her up?”

It was already eleven o’clock. Apart from the cinema and the bar street outside, most shops in the mall had closed. Outside, the plaza was crowded with young people waiting for the Christmas Eve fireworks show.

Cheng Xingye looked at the sleeping girl and deliberately softened his voice, “No need. I’ll take her home directly.”

Since Cheng Xingye had a car, Lu Yi didn’t insist. If someone was willing to do the hard work, why interfere?

He agreed readily, “Alright, thanks, brother! I’ll treat you to dinner sometime!”

Cheng Xingye: “Mm, hanging up now.”

He ended the call, blinked lightly, then bent down to wake Lu Qingyue.

“Lu Diandian.”

Lu Qingyue was half-awake, vaguely hearing her name called, and responded with a sleepy murmur, not even opening her eyes. Her voice, soft and syrupy from slumber, sounded quite different from her usual clear tone. She wasn’t sharp-tongued as usual; instead, she resembled a defenseless kitten.

Cheng Xingye waited a moment. Seeing her still not awake, he gently touched her cheek with the back of his hand. “Let’s go. You can sleep in the car.”

This time, Lu Qingyue finally opened her eyes. She looked around in confusion, realized everyone had left, and only then understood the movie had ended.

“Oh,” she said, quickly standing up, only to bump into Cheng Xingye’s chin in her haste, recoiling in pain as she stumbled back unsteadily.

Cheng Xingye instinctively reached out, steadying her waist with a firm grip, pulling her gently into his arms.

Caught off guard, Lu Qingyue was suddenly held close. His scent—clean sea salt, pure and fresh—filled her senses. There was even a faint trace of tobacco.

Had he just gone out for a smoke?

Lu Qingyue wondered in a daze. She looked up, suddenly realizing how close they were—close enough that, if she stood on tiptoe, she could kiss his Adam’s apple.

His skin was pale and cool, jawline taut and smooth, Adam’s apple sharp and prominent—slowly moving up and down beneath her gaze.

She had never observed a man’s Adam’s apple so closely before, and the sensation left her with a tingling curiosity. Unable to say exactly what she felt—whether it was intrigue or novelty—she found herself, almost involuntarily, reaching up to touch it.

Before she could, Cheng Xingye caught her wrist and turned his head away from her touch.

“What are you doing?”

Lu Qingyue looked up, her face earnest and sincere. “Can I touch your Adam’s apple?”

She didn’t have one, so she wanted to see what it felt like.

Cheng Xingye, accustomed to her straightforwardness, was unmoved. He stared at her, his long eyes narrowing. “Do you think a man’s Adam’s apple is something you can just touch?”

Lu Qingyue blinked.

It did seem inappropriate. Their relationship was, at best, friendly. And with a few years’ age gap between them, he was, technically, her elder.

Lu Qingyue’s eyes sparkled with cunning as she countered, “And is a girl’s waist something you can just touch?”

His hand was still on her waist!

Cheng Xingye paused. His hand shifted slightly, as if to withdraw, but in the next moment, he held her naturally, pulling her closer.

He gazed lazily at her, his pupils deep and dark, emotion weighing heavily as he locked his gaze onto her face.

Lu Qingyue suspected he was about to kiss her, and she was even prepared to close her eyes.

But the expected kiss did not come. Instead, the warmth at her waist was swiftly withdrawn.

Cheng Xingye, as if nothing had happened, released her and lowered his head, his tone unconsciously soft and laced with lazy self-mockery.

“It really isn’t appropriate.”

In the quiet, empty screening hall, Lu Qingyue felt her heart race—and then, at his final words, sink to the bottom.

She murmured an “oh,” picked up his trench coat, and left the hall first.

Cheng Xingye followed at a step’s distance, hands casually in his pockets. From her blind spot, his fingers toyed with the inside of his pocket, as if savoring the lingering sensation of her soft waist.

...

Together, they took the elevator down from the top floor of the mall. At this hour, there were hardly any people—the elevator was theirs alone.

Lu Qingyue stood near the doors; Cheng Xingye was slightly behind her, hands in his pockets. Neither spoke, merely gazing at their reflections in the elevator’s doors.

The brief hint of tenderness born in the screening hall was like a faint morning star—vanishing without a trace at the first light of dawn.

Lu Qingyue didn’t bother making conversation; she was still replaying the moment in her mind.

If it hadn’t been her imagination, then Cheng Xingye must have felt something too.

But why had he avoided her?

She pondered, lost in thought, not noticing the elevator stop at the third floor.

It wasn’t until a group of men reeking of alcohol entered the elevator that she instinctively looked up.