Chapter Ninety-Eight: If I Pick It Up, It Becomes Mine

Perhaps because it all felt too unreal deep inside, Lu Qingyue lay in bed that night, her mind still muddled and restless, turning over and unable to sleep. She reached beneath her pillow for her phone and tapped open that familiar profile picture. Her fingertip lingered over the text box for a long time, wanting to ask him for clarity, yet unable to decide where to begin.

After a moment of indecision, she swiped left and closed the chat.

But before the screen could even dim, it lit up again with a notification for a new message.

[hOShinO]: ?

He simply tossed her a question mark. Lu Qingyue wasn’t sure what he meant, so she replied in kind.

[Dot Lu]: ???

Seconds later, he sent her a screenshot.

Just two minutes ago, at the top of her chat box, her own username—Dot Lu—had displayed the words [The other party is typing].

Lu Qingyue instantly felt a guilty thrill, as if she’d been caught secretly thinking about him. Her fingers hovered awkwardly, unsure what to say.

She was racking her brain for an explanation when the screen suddenly flashed with a voice call invitation.

Lu Qingyue froze for a moment, then decided to answer.

His voice came through, low and unhurried, “Can’t sleep?”

The sudden, deep timbre slipped right into her ear, making her ears tingle. She instinctively turned her head and moved the phone away a little.

“Mm,” she murmured softly, lying on her stomach.

He seemed to be in a good mood, his voice tinged with teasing, lazy and relaxed, “Just seeing my messages makes you sleep better?”

What a thing to say…

Lu Qingyue wasn’t about to be outdone. She shot back, “If you weren’t checking my messages, how would you know I was checking yours?”

He paused, seemingly caught off guard. After a few seconds, he let out a low laugh.

“Still thinking about today?”

Lu Qingyue pressed her lips together and replied quietly, “Mm.”

Cheng Xingye: “What don’t you understand?”

What didn’t she understand?

Lu Qingyue pressed her lips tighter.

Truthfully, she understood everything—and yet nothing at all.

She knew now that the thing he’d kept for so long was hers. But she couldn’t fathom how such a coincidence could exist in this world.

Perhaps sensing her thoughts, he let out a low, amused chuckle, gentle and coaxing, and then slowly asked,

“So, does this mean we’ve made up?”

A tremor fluttered through Lu Qingyue’s heart.

She thought, whether we’ve made up or not, you’ve already kissed me.

For some reason, though she knew she wasn’t angry with him any longer, she didn’t want to let him soothe her so easily.

So she coughed theatrically, feigning obstinance, and retorted,

“No, I’m very hard to coax.”

Besides, after such a long stretch without contact, it wasn’t as if things could be patched up with a single word. If he wanted to win her back, he had to show some sincerity—at least make an effort for a few days, right? Lu Qingyue thought with conviction.

He paused again, then indulged her with a low laugh, “Alright, then I’ll keep coaxing you.”

He deliberately drew out the last syllable, his deep, languid voice gently teasing, as if intent on stirring her.

Lu Qingyue feared that if she kept talking, she’d fall into his gentle trap all over again. So she put on a serious tone and declared,

“That’s enough coaxing for today. I need my beauty sleep!”

Even though she hadn’t grown much these past two years, beauty sleep was still important—who knew, maybe it would help?

Her words were firm, but her tone was soft and sweet, betraying her reluctance to end the conversation and her eagerness to be pampered.

Cheng Xingye’s Adam’s apple shifted slightly, and his voice softened unconsciously, as if afraid to startle his little moonlight.

“Alright, sleep early.”

He wasn’t in any hurry to coax her; as long as she was willing to return, he could pamper her for a lifetime.

Lu Qingyue responded with a quiet assent, just about to hang up when his lazy voice dropped even lower, slipping out naturally,

“Good night, sweetheart.”

...

Moonlight filtered softly through the window, settling lightly on the sheer curtains.

Because of Cheng Xingye’s “sweetheart,” Lu Qingyue was utterly sleepless.

She tossed and turned, wrapping herself tightly in her quilt like a silkworm cocoon, rolling around the bed in restless agony.

It was only when dawn crept in that exhaustion finally overcame her. Curled up on the edge of the bed, she drifted into a hazy sleep.

The consequence of a nearly sleepless night was that she didn’t wake until nearly two in the afternoon.

When she went downstairs, the house was empty.

Lu Qingyue, bearing a pair of dark circles under her eyes, rummaged through the kitchen fridge for a long while. There were vegetables and meat inside, but her cooking skills were lacking, and she didn’t want to poison herself at home during her last summer before university.

With a pout, she closed the fridge, grabbed her phone and keys, and decided to head out for a meal.

But just as she slipped out the door, she unexpectedly ran into Cheng Xingye at the entrance of the neighborhood.

He was dressed in a simple white T-shirt and dark jeans, standing beside his car with his head down, looking at his phone. She had no idea how long he’d been waiting.

Lu Qingyue, stunned, walked toward him. Before she even got close, she noticed something on his wrist. But before she could see clearly, Cheng Xingye spotted her and calmly lowered his hand, pocketing his phone.

She knew he was waiting for her and deliberately slowed her pace, pretending not to notice him until she was near. Then, feigning surprise, she asked,

“What are you doing here?”

Cheng Xingye watched her feigned composure with amusement, choosing not to expose her act. Instead, he played along,

“Here to coax someone.”

Lu Qingyue was delighted by his words, though she masked her joy with a casual expression, arching her brow and asking deliberately,

“So how do you plan to coax me?”

Cheng Xingye stifled a smile, gazing at the cheeky little rascal before him, his voice tinged with playful amusement,

“By taking you out for a meal.”

Lu Qingyue responded with a skeptical “Oh,” half believing, half doubting,

“You’re inviting me to eat on purpose?”

Was he setting another trap for her?

Cheng Xingye made no effort to hide his intentions. He reached out and took her wrist, opened the passenger door with his other hand, and said,

“Owe you such a big favor—I have to properly thank you with a meal, don’t I?”

That was fair enough.

After all, she’d saved his life!

Lu Qingyue immediately felt justified. As she climbed into the car, she pushed her luck and demanded,

“Then I want barbecue.”

Cheng Xingye agreed, closed the door, walked around to the driver’s side, and pulled out his phone to search for nearby barbecue restaurants.

His fingers were long and well-shaped, with distinct joints and faint blue veins running across the back of his hand.

Lu Qingyue had never seen such beautiful hands on a man; she couldn’t help but stare.

As she did, she suddenly noticed that on his wrist was a black leather strap—hanging from it was the little pendant she’d lost.

Lu Qingyue was instantly shocked.

How could he just pick up something and keep it so openly?!

She stared in disbelief, reaching out to grab his wrist,

“Isn’t that mine?”

Unexpectedly, Cheng Xingye, even while focused on his phone, reacted quickly.

He deftly lifted his hand out of reach and replied with perfect composure,

“Didn’t I pick it up?”

Lu Qingyue: ???

She was utterly speechless, refusing to back down. She unbuckled her seatbelt and scrambled over the center console to snatch it back.

“So what if you picked it up? It’s still mine!”

Cheng Xingye hadn’t expected her to be so fierce. Caught off guard as she clambered over, he instinctively leaned back, raising his hand again to keep her from grabbing it.

“Whoever picks it up owns it. Just like I’m now—”

He suddenly stopped mid-sentence.

Lu Qingyue hadn’t realized what had happened until she saw Cheng Xingye’s Adam’s apple tense. Then it hit her: in her rush, she’d ended up sitting right on his lap.

Sunlight filtered through the leaves, casting flickering shadows on the window, and a restless breeze seemed ready to surge in at any moment.

Lu Qingyue sat dazed on his thighs, her mind a muddled, feverish mess, and scarcely noticed when his hand slid to her lower back.

He held her gently, pressing her closer, his voice rough and full of meaning—half flirtation, half temptation,

“—Just like I’ve picked you up here by the roadside,”

He lifted his gaze, locking eyes with her stunned expression, then continued unhurriedly,

“Once I’ve picked you up, you belong to me.”