Why did the system take my request to take photos with a cosplayer seriously?

No.

These two words stuck in my throat, like a heavy stone.

"no!"

Wenjing finally heard her own voice, dry but clear.

Luo Guihua was taken aback.

"What did you say?"

"No."

Wenjing clenched the clothes in her hands: "My friend doesn't allow outsiders to touch his computer, I..."

When facing her mother, her momentum quickly waned.

Suddenly I remembered what Ding Heng said—you have to learn to say no!

Wenjing took the laptop bag, hugged it to her chest, and spoke with a firm voice.

"It just won't work!"

Luo Guihua looked at her daughter, who had rejected her, with surprise, as if she were looking at a stranger.

"Alright, treat it like a precious treasure."

She turned and walked out of the room.

There were no follow-up questions, no reprimands, just a casual remark.

The door was ajar.

Wenjing sat on the edge of the bed, clutching her laptop bag, and didn't move for a long time.

Outside the window, the cicadas are still chirping.

A short while later, Wen Shu lingered in the living room and went back to her room.

She still had tear stains on her face, and her eyes were red; it was clear that she had been scolded by Luo Guihua again.

She climbed into her bed, pulled the covers over her head, and remained silent.

Wenjing lay on the small bed next to her, without asking what had happened.

She didn't need to ask.

This family has been like this ever since my younger brother was born.

The younger brother is always right, and the older sister should always give in.

Once you get used to it, you won't think it's a big deal anymore.

She stared at the ceiling.

That old-fashioned ceiling light had been used for over ten years; the lampshade was covered in dust, and there were several small insect corpses embedded inside.

Wenjing suddenly recalled the warm, soft lighting in the suite at the Chujiang Hotel, which made her feel comfortable...

If you stare at it for a long time, a path seems to slowly emerge from the crack in the ceiling.

Tree-lined paths, red brick walls, students coming and going carrying books.

She and Ding Heng walked side by side under the sycamore trees at Hubei University.

The scarf she knitted was on his shoulder.

Winter has arrived, and the withered leaves are falling, making a rustling sound when you step on them.

Just bear with it a little longer.

Wenjing gently exhaled.

Only one week left.

Chapter 49: Zhao Yanxi's Other Friends

After dropping Wenjing off, Ding Heng didn't rush back.

The car turned two corners and slowly came to a stop at the entrance of another residential complex.

He leaned back in his chair, took out his phone, and casually scrolled through it for two minutes.

The WeChat chat window was still showing Wenjing's message, "I'm home," accompanied by a waving bunny emoji.

He replied with an "Mm," and then there was no further communication from the other end.

Probably packing things, or... not knowing how to answer.

Ding Heng put his phone back on the center console.

The passenger door was suddenly pulled open from the outside.

"Brother Ding Heng—!!!"

Zhao Yanxi got into the car, her high, misty purple ponytail swinging in the air in an arc.

She was dressed very simply today.

A pure white short-sleeved shirt with a loose neckline, revealing a small section of delicate collarbone.

She wore a light blue denim mini skirt that ended mid-thigh, revealing her long, straight legs, paired with white canvas shoes.

I just tied my hair up haphazardly, and a few stray strands weren't tied up and were hanging down beside my ears.

She wore light makeup, almost unnoticeable unless you looked closely. Her eyebrows were neatly trimmed, her eyelashes were curled, and her lips were a pale peach color, like freshly peeled lychee flesh, moist and glossy.

It's the kind of beauty that's "casually done," yet still captivating and mesmerizing.

"Hurry up!"

She opened her little notebook and held it up in front of Ding Heng, showing it off like a treasure: "Look, look, look!"

Motor vehicle driver's license.

In the photo, Zhao Yanxi smiles with her eyes crinkling, looking even more adorable than in real life.

Ding Heng raised an eyebrow: "Passed?"

"It's approved! I just received it yesterday!"

Zhao Yanxi was so excited that her calves were swaying slightly.

"sharp."

Ding Heng spoke calmly, preparing to start the car, but Zhao Yanxi grabbed his wrist.

"Etc., etc!"

Zhao Yanxi asked with great anticipation, "Didn't you promise me that you'd let me test drive once I got my driver's license?"

Ding Heng stopped moving.

He slowly turned his head and met Zhao Yanxi's big eyes, which seemed to say, "Let me drive, let me drive, let me drive."

"Really open?"

"It's really open!"

"Forehead……"

Ding Heng remained silent for two seconds, then sighed resignedly and got out of the car.

The two switched places.

Zhao Yanxi sat in the driver's seat, placing her hands on the steering wheel as if grasping some sacred authority.

She took a deep breath and began adjusting her seat—

Pull it forward a little.

Go a little further ahead.

It seems a bit too close?

She pushed it back again.

No, I still feel uncomfortable.

What about the height? How do I adjust the height?

She stared blankly at the adjustment lever on the side of the seat, hesitating to move it.

Ding Heng's temples throbbed as he watched from the side.

"Didn't your driving school teach you how to adjust the seat?"

"I was taught, but I forgot."

Zhao Yanxi spoke with righteous indignation.

Ding Heng didn't speak, but leaned over.

He reached one hand to Zhao Yanxi's waist, touched the seat adjustment lever, and gently lifted it up.

With his other hand he held onto the back of the chair and pushed the entire chair forward a few notches.

The distance suddenly closed.

Zhao Yanxi smelled the faint scent on Ding Heng; it was clean and refreshing.

Do you need a cushion to sit on?

"No, no need..."

Zhao Yanxi's voice lowered by an octave.

Ding Heng didn't look up. His fingers touched the adjustment knob on the side of the seat, and the seat slowly rose until Zhao Yanxi's line of sight was level with the center line of the windshield.

"rearview mirror."

He leaned over again, adjusted the angle of the rearview mirror, and then pulled his hand back.

"Do you know how to adjust the side mirrors yourself?"

"Yes...yes."