After the breakup, I was taken in by a group of trendy young women.

The bathroom faucet was turned on full blast, and the rushing water drowned out all the noise in the living room.

The blond-haired man locked the door behind him, and the crisp sound of the lock clicking in made her heart skip a beat.

She turned around, her back pressed against the door, her chest heaving violently.

Her honey-brown hair was slightly damp from the steam, with a few stray strands clinging to her forehead.

The straps of her Lolita dress slipped down a bit, revealing her thin shoulders and a small patch of skin in her collarbone that was flushed red from the alcohol.

She looked up at Lin Ye, her deep brown pupils shining brightly under the pale energy-saving light of the bathroom. They contained tension, anticipation, the courage unique to those who have drunk too much, and a kind of resolute determination to go all out.

"Brother—I wasn't joking about the 'saliva chicken' I mentioned in the living room earlier."

Her voice was very low, so low that only two people could hear it, blending into the sound of the faucet running, like a feather falling on the water.

After saying that, she reached out and took the cigarette from Lin Ye's hand that he hadn't lit, placed it on the sink, and then stood on tiptoe.

When she kissed him, Lin Ye felt her lips trembling.

It's not the kind of shivering you get from cold; it's the kind of shivering that comes from your whole body being tense and your muscles becoming uncontrollable.

She wrapped her arms around his neck, interlocking her fingers behind his nape, her nails digging gently into his skin.

The kiss was awkward, clumsy, and completely haphazard—the last time she kissed him, she forced herself on him while drunk, but this time, being seven or eight parts sober, she didn't know where to put her tongue.

But that seriousness is more exciting than any skill.

Lin Ye reached out and put his arm around her waist.

Huang Mao's waist was even thinner than Shen Qing's, and when you placed your palm on it, you could clearly feel the muscle lines on both sides of his spine.

Her body temperature radiated through the thin Lolita dress, making her feel hot as if she had a low-grade fever.

With his other hand, he held the back of her head, his fingers running through her honey-brown hair—the new protein treatment had made her hair so much smoother than before, it felt like a piece of silk soaked in warm water.

The blond-haired man went limp after being grabbed and held by him.

Her knees went weak, and she slid off the door, hanging onto him.

The kiss went from awkward to passionate, from a one-sided assault to a two-way entanglement.

The tap on the sink was still running, the sound of the water drowning out the very soft hum that came from her throat.

She released his lips, her forehead pressed against his, her breathing rapid and erratic, her deep brown pupils becoming a blurry halo at such close range.

Her lips were glistening, whether from moisture or something else, I couldn't tell.

"Brother—I'll make it for you—just try a bite—"

Her voice was hoarse and sticky, with the last syllable drawn out like a half-melted candy.

Lin Ye looked down at her.

She tilted her head back, her eyelashes glistening with tiny droplets of water vapor, her nose red, and her lips slightly swollen from the kiss.

But she didn't back down. She just tilted her head back and looked straight at him with her deep brown eyes, which were filled with the most primal and unguarded desires of a young girl.

"Have you thought it through?"

Lin Ye's voice was half a octave lower than usual.

"I've made up my mind."

Without hesitation, she said, "I already decided on this last time on the sofa. It was the tattooed girls who caused trouble—tonight, no one can take it from me."

After she finished speaking, she buried her face in his shoulder and took a deep breath, as if drawing courage from him.

Then she lowered herself down.

The tap was still running.

A thin layer of mist covered the mirror of the sink, blurring the two figures into a patch of ambiguous color.

"I'm not afraid," he said.

Just two words.

His voice wasn't loud, and his tone was flat, just like when he said "Come here" under the old locust tree, "Do it all" in the hospital corridor, or "My woman" in the KTV corridor.

But when Huang Mao heard those two words, his hands stopped shaking.

She tilted her head back, her deep brown eyes looking up at him, a tearful smile curving her lips.

Then she lowered her head.

In the living room, the man with the tattooed arm was holding a glass of ice water and pressing it against his face to cool down.

She sat cross-legged on the new sofa. A small patch of the koi fish on her tattooed arm was dampened by water droplets condensed on the side of the ice water glass. The coolness seeped into her veins through her skin, but it couldn't quell the heat on her face.

She took a big gulp of ice water, the ice cubes making a crisp crunching sound as they hit her teeth.

Hua Tui sat next to her, his legs tucked up on the sofa, his knees pressed against his chest, and he was also holding a glass of ice water in his hand.

She didn't drink it; she just pressed the cup against her cheek, alternating between left and right—from left to right, and vice versa.

Most of the ice in the glass had melted, but her face was still red.

Green Hair and Pink Hair squeezed together at the end of the sofa, sharing a glass of ice water.

Two straws, which were originally meant for drinking milk tea, were stuck in the rim of the cup. The two people were sucking loudly from the same cup, neither willing to let go first.

The water level in the straw dropped quickly, but the blush on her face didn't fade at all.

Qi Liuhai was huddled in the corner with Wangcai in his arms, a glass of untouched ice water on his lap.

She lowered her head, burying her face in Wangcai's fur, her ears so red they looked like they could bleed. Wangcai was being held too tightly and shifted uncomfortably, but she didn't let go.

Shen Qing sat at the far end of the sofa, holding a glass of ice water in her hand, drinking it very slowly.

Her ears were also red, but her expression was calmer than the others.

Her gaze passed over the rim of the water glass and landed on the closed bathroom door, a tiny, knowing smile curving her lips.

A sliver of pale light peeked through the crack in the bathroom door, and the faucet was still running.

The tattooed man slammed the ice water glass onto the coffee table, and the ice cubes swirled inside.

She leaned back into the sofa cushions, looking up at the dusty fluorescent light on the ceiling, where the dead insects inside the bulb were still.

She spoke in an extremely complex tone, which sounded like both a sigh and a self-consolation.

"That yellow-haired bastard—he's always just spouting nonsense, I never thought he'd actually do it."

"Is this the first day you've met her?"

Hua Tui chimed in from the side, his voice muffled by the ice water glass.

"When she climbed on top of me in her white spaghetti strap nightgown last time, I knew this day would come sooner or later."

"I should have been prepared when she said 'my Daoming is slippery' last time."

The tattooed arm rests on his forehead, and he closes his eyes.

The green-haired and pink-haired people looked at each other.

Green Hair took the straw out of his mouth, licked the water droplets off his lips, and said in an extremely serious tone, "Yellow Hair is the bravest among us."

"maximum."

Pink-haired girl nodded vigorously beside him.

Qi Liuhai lifted her face from the cat's fur, her voice soft but exceptionally clear in the quiet living room: "She really likes you, brother. She told me—that if you hadn't found her, she would never have met such a good person in her life."

Shen Qing put down her water glass, the bottom of which tapped softly on the coffee table.

She turned her head to look in the direction of the bathroom, her black hair slipping down from her shoulders and obscuring half of her face.

Her voice was soft and calm, as if she were talking about something she already knew.

"This is the true empress."

The faucet in the bathroom was still running.

Then came the sound of the faucet being turned off, and the sound of water flowing suddenly stopped.

Instead, there was the sound of a girl's rapid and heavy breathing, as if she had been holding her breath underwater for a very long time and was finally surfacing to take a breath.

Huang Mao stood up, holding onto the sink.

Her hair was a complete mess, like a bird's nest, with a few strands stuck to the corners of her mouth and chin.

Her eyes were red, and her lips were red too—not just red, but also a little swollen.

She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, looked at herself in the mirror, and paused for a moment.

There was still a little bit around the mouth.

Eyes red

She turned the tap back on, scooped up a handful of water to rinse her mouth, and then washed her face.

The cold water splashed on her face finally brought down the temperature of her cheeks, which had been burning all night.

She straightened up, looked at herself in the mirror, then used her wet hands to tuck her messy honey-brown hair behind her ears, pulled the slipped tank top back onto her shoulders, and tugged her wrinkled Lolita dress down a bit.

She took a deep breath, turned and walked towards the door.

She paused for a moment when she gripped the doorknob.

He glanced back at Lin Ye.