Back to Auntie’s School Days - Chapter 23

“Why?”

Jian Hao looked up, her watery eyes full of piteous pleading. “Are you just not used to sleeping with other people?”

“Mhm.”

“Then didn’t you sleep with Xinsui the other night?”

Seeing that Tan Yanqing showed no sign of refuting, Jian Hao added: “Oh~ I see. I’m just an ‘other person’.”

“I’m so heartbroken, Tan Yanqing.” Jian Hao gave a huff, let go of Tan Yanqing’s arm, and stepped back. “But I can’t force you.”

She started walking toward the guest room on the first floor. “I’ll go to sleep by myself then. Goodnight.”

Three.

Two.

One!

“Goodnight.”

Huh?

Why aren’t you stopping me?!

Jian Hao screamed like a marmot in her head. Crap. I overplayed my hand. I really thought she’d say yes, ugh.

But that was it; she couldn’t exactly run back, grab Tan Yanqing’s arm, and beg for shelter all over again. That would expose her intentions far too clearly. What if Tan Yanqing thought she was a creep?

Jian Hao gave an “Mhm” and left Tan Yanqing with a cold, aloof back.

Click.

The door closed softly, placing her and Tan Yanqing in two separate spaces. Consequently, she didn’t see the loneliness that flickered in Tan Yanqing’s eyes the moment the door shut.

It was mid-September, and the temperature was still high. Even with the rain, it hadn’t cooled down. In a room with closed doors and windows, no fan, and no air conditioning, it felt like a sauna even without a blanket. Certain uncontrollable teenage fantasies began to simmer in the heat.

Tan Yanqing lay quietly in bed. The room was dark, and she could see nothing. Yet she kept her eyes open, staring at the ceiling. Later, after God-knows-what thoughts crossed her mind, she rolled over, her gaze falling toward the floor.

It was as if she wanted to look through the floorboards to see how the person in the room downstairs was doing.

Thunder rumbled outside, one strike after another. Someone who wasn’t afraid of thunder might treat it as non-existent or white noise, eventually getting used to it.

But what about someone who was afraid?

Tan Yanqing’s hand, resting on her waist, curled slightly.

Would Jian Lai be shivering? Clutching her blanket and cursing her under her breath for not staying with her?

Perhaps.

But how could she stay?

She and Xinsui were friends; sleeping together held no ulterior motives.

But Jian Lai was different.

If Jian Lai slept beside her, she wouldn’t be able to stop thinking about her. And because of that, her refusal felt like she was trying to avoid taking advantage of Jian Lai—which felt so wicked.

And yet…

It seemed she had already taken advantage. And it seemed that regardless of whether she stayed with Jian Lai or not, she wouldn’t be able to sleep.

Knock.

The sound of the knock was so faint against the stormy night. But in the silent room, it felt like the sharp snap of a heartstring.

An illusion?

Tan Yanqing looked toward the door.

Knock.

Not an illusion.

—It was the scatterbrain.

---

Jian Hao stood at Tan Yanqing’s door, her hand poised against the wood. She didn’t know if Tan Yanqing was asleep and was afraid of waking her, so she only dared to knock twice very softly before calling out quietly: “Tan Yanqing?”

Truly, one should never lie.

She wanted to sleep in the same bed, so she lied and said she was afraid of thunder. But once she was lying alone in that bed, the rhythmic crashes of thunder actually started to make her hair stand on end. She tried to turn on the desk lamp for comfort, but with the rain, the voltage was unstable; the lamp flickered and emitted an ominous crackle-crackle of electricity.

If it were 2025, she could have distracted herself with her phone, but right now, she didn’t even have an MP3 player. Closing her eyes and pulling the covers over her head only resulted in a forehead full of sweat and a lack of air. When she pulled them back, the sound of the wind and rain felt like ghosts wailing piteously just to spite her.

She had no choice. She rushed out of the room and navigated the dark up to the second floor.

Standing outside the door now, the hallway was pitch black. It was so dark Jian Hao felt as if a ghost were standing right behind her. She spun around, her back pressed tight against the wall, her teeth biting her lower lip.

She had been waiting for over ten seconds, and there wasn’t a sound from the room. Had Tan Yanqing fallen asleep that fast?

Jian Hao’s hand gripped the wall. Fine, then. She’d just go turn on the living room lights and sleep on the sofa. She’d pay Tan Yanqing for the electricity.

With her mind made up, Jian Hao let out a breath and, using the flash of lightning as a guide, began to shuffle along the wall toward the stairs.

One step, two steps…

Suddenly, a cold draft hit the back of her neck.

“What are you doing?”

“AH!”

Jian Hao shivered violently at the sudden voice. Clutching her pounding heart, she spun around to look at Tan Yanqing.

She had been so focused that she hadn’t noticed when the door opened or when Tan Yanqing had stepped out behind her.

Startled by Jian Hao’s scream, Tan Yanqing’s brow furrowed slightly. Her lips parted, but before she could ask what was wrong, the girl lunged into her arms, hooking her arms around her neck, her breath puffing against Tan Yanqing’s throat.

“Tan Yanqing, please stay with me, okay?”

Jian Hao whimpered: “A ghost is going to take me away.”

Cute.

The corner of Tan Yanqing’s mouth quirked up. She let go of the doorknob and placed her hand on Jian Hao’s back, patting her soothingly. “How do you know my house has ghosts?”

“?!”

Jian Hao’s grip around Tan Yanqing’s neck tightened further. She buried her head in the crook of her neck. “Stop scaring me!”

She held her so tight that her breath was entirely and unreservedly spraying against the side of Tan Yanqing’s neck. While this left Tan Yanqing flustered, her back felt as if a volcano had suddenly erupted with lava; her body went hot all at once.

“Mhm,” Tan Yanqing endured it. “I’m not scaring you.” She patted Jian Hao’s shoulder. “You can let go now.”

Jian Hao shook her head. “Turn on the light first.”

Click.

“It’s on.”

Jian Hao slowly lifted her head, tentatively opening her left eye. After seeing the light, she finally moved away from Tan Yanqing’s neck. She looked up and saw that Tan Yanqing’s cheeks were flushed and her ears were bright red.

“Is it very hot in your room? Why were you sleeping with the door closed?”

“I was afraid a ghost would come in.”

“…”

Jian Hao let go of Tan Yanqing and said sheepishly, “I need to use the bathroom. Come with me.”

“Mhm.”

Tan Yanqing’s face was devoid of expression, which made Jian Hao feel a bit better. She hadn’t actually been scared into needing the bathroom—she just legitimately had to go—but she said it now fearing Tan Yanqing would think she was a coward.

She didn’t want to leave any negative impressions on Tan Yanqing.

This “image management” had likely started when she was ten. She wouldn’t allow her mother to mention embarrassing stories in front of Auntie Tan; she only allowed praise. She stopped intentionally acting like a clown in front of her, always maintaining the image of a “good child.” Had she already had different feelings for Auntie Tan back then? She couldn’t say. Either way… she didn’t want the woman to see her bad side.

In her eyes, Auntie Tan was perfect. The person who deserved her should also be perfect. So she kept herself perfect in her presence.

But Tan Yanqing was slightly less “perfect” than Auntie Tan, so in front of her, Jian Hao would occasionally and unconsciously release a bit of her true nature. For instance, she would never have dared to ask Auntie Tan to sleep in the same bed.

Coming out of the bathroom, Jian Hao walked over to Tan Yanqing, who was waiting for her. “Actually, I’m not really afraid, it’s just the lamp in that room kept flickering…”

Tan Yanqing looked at her. “Did you turn it off?”

Jian Hao blinked. “I forgot.”

Tan Yanqing gave a quiet “Mhm.” After reaching the bedroom door, she said to Jian Hao: “Wait for me in the room. I’ll go turn it off.”

Jian Hao nodded instinctively, then suddenly realized: “You’re letting me stay in your room?”

“Mhm. Didn’t you ask me to stay with you?”

With that, Tan Yanqing turned and headed downstairs.

Standing by the door, Jian Hao forgot all about ghosts, wind, and thunder. Her only sensation was her warming cheeks, her heart feeling as if it had been fitted with a pacemaker, her blood circulating at high speed.

She gave a small laugh, turned, and sat on the corner of Tan Yanqing’s bed, hands clutching each other and toes pressing together.

Downstairs, Tan Yanqing pushed open the guest room door and saw the lamp Jian Hao had mentioned flickering away. Love is a sudden storm capable of sweeping everything away, she thought. The flickering light was like the subtle thoughts in the humid atmosphere brought by the storm.

Tan Yanqing walked over and gave the lamp a gentle tap. The flickering stopped.

—Just accept it.

---

In seventeen years, Jian Hao had only shared a bed with Tan Yanqing once. That was when she was very small; Jian You and Tan Yanqing had taken her on a trip and booked a room with twin beds. She had climbed into the wrong bed after a midnight bathroom trip and slept with Tan Yanqing for one night.

Now that Tan Yanqing had actually agreed to share a bed, Jian Hao was suddenly nervous. By the time Tan Yanqing returned, she seemed to have lost the ability to speak. She just sat on the corner of the bed, looking at the lamp, then at Tan Yanqing… at the desk, then at Tan Yanqing… at the chair, then at Tan Yanqing… at—

“Shall we sleep?”

Tan Yanqing spoke, and her head finally stopped swiveling. Her gaze locked onto Tan Yanqing’s face for two seconds before she quickly looked down. “Mhm.” She swallowed some non-existent saliva. “Which side should I sleep on?”

“Which side are you used to?”

She was used to sleeping like a clock hand, spinning all over the bed. “Anywhere is fine.”

“Anywhere is fine with me, too.”

Jian Hao couldn’t help but laugh. She pulled her feet out of her slippers and onto the bed. “Then whatever.”

Tan Yanqing asked her: “Do you want to leave the light on?”

Jian Hao shook her head. “With you here, I don’t need it.”

“Okay.”

Tan Yanqing turned off the light. Jian Hao searched for her silhouette in the darkness. When a flash of lightning revealed Tan Yanqing walking to the bedside, Jian Hao’s breath hitched.

Thump-thump-thump.

Her heart was about to leap out of her chest. She clutched her chest as she lay on her side, terrified Tan Yanqing would hear it and think she had heart disease.

But her heart wouldn’t listen.

Thump— Tan Yanqing sat down.

Thump-thump— Tan Yanqing lay down.

Thump-thump-thump— Tan Yanqing said: “Don’t be afraid. Go to sleep.”

The hand Jian Hao was holding over her chest loosened.

Let her hear it.

Let her hear it and ask, ‘Why is your heartbeat so loud? It’s louder than the storm outside.’ Then I’ll reply: ‘Because I love you.’

That way, she wouldn’t have to pretend she was joking anymore.

That way, that way…

Thinking this, the sound of the storm outside faded away. Yet she didn’t hear Tan Yanqing ask her anything. Did she not hear it? Or did she hear it and stay silent to avoid awkwardness? Or was this just a normal occurrence to Tan Yanqing, rather than the earth-shattering event Jian Hao felt it to be?

Jian Hao slowly shifted from her side to lying flat. She looked relaxed, but her index finger still gently scratched the small mattress pad beneath her.

Since arriving here, she still hadn’t found Tan Yanqing’s “White Moonlight” (first love/ideal). Was it because she had arrived too early and the person hadn’t appeared yet, or had she arrived too late and the person was already a “cinnabar mole” (unforgettable mark) in Tan Yanqing’s heart?

If it was the former, she could wait. Given Tan Yanqing’s social circle, if the person appeared, she would surely notice. If it was the latter… would Tan Yanqing tell her if she asked directly?

“Monitor~” she said, her voice full of wheedling.

The only response was the wind whistling past the window.

Huh? Jian Hao’s eyelids fluttered as she glanced toward Tan Yanqing. Although the room was dark, at this distance, she could see Tan Yanqing lying flat, her eyes—those eyes she usually didn’t dare meet—closed. She could boldly look at her for a few more moments.

“Tan Yanqing?”

“Mhm.”

She wasn’t asleep. “Why didn’t you answer when I called you just now?”

Because that tone sounded far too suspicious.

Tan Yanqing was silent for two seconds. “What is it?”

“Are you sleepy? If not, want to chat?”

“About what?”

Jian Hao stared at the black ceiling. “Do you have a favorite celebrity?”

“No.”

“A favorite singer?”

“No.”

“A favorite TV show or song?”

“…”

Tan Yanqing, whose eyes had been closed, opened them and let out a long exhale. “I like Henrietta Leavitt.”

Jian Hao: “.”

She’d never heard of her. Would asking who that was make her seem uncultured? But to understand Tan Yanqing and keep the conversation going…

“Who’s that?”

“An American astronomer.”

Oh, Jian Hao thought. She felt a flicker of boredom. But luckily, it was outside her knowledge base, so asking didn’t necessarily mean she was uncultured.

“Is there anyone else you like besides her?” For example… someone who makes your heart flutter like a “White Moonlight.”

Tan Yanqing: “There’s also Mary Somerville from Britain. I like her very much, too.”

Jian Hao: “…”

She suddenly felt that starting with hobbies was a poor decision.

Still, she felt she understood Tan Yanqing better now. She had never heard those two names in all her years beside Auntie Tan. She realized, belatedly, that she hadn’t even known Auntie Tan liked astronomy. Did she truly love Auntie Tan? Or was her feeling just a teenage emotional anchor? Did she only like her because she was kind, mature, and possessed that adult charm an adolescent craves?

She loved Auntie Tan. But besides knowing she liked running, what food she ate, and which clothing stores she frequented… habits that anyone with a bit of focus could discover… had she ever loved Auntie Tan’s inner self and thoughts?

Her heart suddenly panicked. Accompanied by lightning, she lowered her gaze and said hoarsely: “Then tell me about them?”

Tan Yanqing seemingly hadn’t expected her to say that, because to someone who didn’t like astronomy, these things were very boring. She turned her head to look at Jian Hao.

Jian Hao had already rolled onto her side, head propped on her arm, ready to listen intently.

Tan Yanqing’s eyes softened. Her voice, accompanied by the rain, fell drop by drop into Jian Hao’s ear—softly, like honey dripping into her heart. Jian Hao didn’t know when she fell asleep, but at the exact moment she drifted off, she thought she heard a helpless laugh.

---

She woke up naturally when she was fully rested. Jian Hao pulled the blanket around her, curled into a ball, and closed her eyes again. She was a habitual sleeper-in. Especially when she had a phone, she could stay in bed all morning. But with nothing now except the birds chirping outside, staying in bed felt boring.

After lying there for a while, she got up. She noted the empty space beside her first, then looked at the blanket; Tan Yanqing must have covered her. Rain was like that—muggy and hot during the storm, then gradually cooling after. Late in the night, she had felt the chill, but then a thick warmth had been added. It was so comfortable she wanted to open her eyes, but she had fallen back into a deep sleep.

Jian Hao hugged the blanket and took a deep sniff, but she quickly recoiled. Besides the scent of mothballs, there wasn’t a trace of Tan Yanqing’s fragrance! Zero stars!

Jian Hao folded the blanket without a hint of lingering affection and shuffled downstairs in her slippers.

Tan Yanqing was sitting by the coffee table studying. She was wearing a white T-shirt and light blue jeans, her hair tied back in a high ponytail. For some reason, she wasn’t wearing her glasses. Jian Hao loved seeing her without them; such beautiful eyes deserved to be fully seen.

The sunlight after the storm was bright. A warm orange glow draped over Tan Yanqing, making her look less cold and more approachable.

Hearing the movement, Tan Yanqing turned to look at her. “I bought fried dough sticks and soy milk. They’re still warm.”

Jian Hao glanced at the clock. 10:00 AM. She blinked and looked at Tan Yanqing from where she stood. “I usually wake up quite early, it’s just that sleeping under a blanket after rain is too comfortable.”

Tan Yanqing’s lip quirked. “Mhm.” She paused, then added: “I thought you looked so cute while you were sleeping, so I didn’t wake you.”

Sleeping… cute?

Was Tan Yanqing… praising her?

“I—I’ll go wash up first.” Jian Hao didn’t quite dare to look at her. She didn’t know why she was being so coy, but… there was an indescribable shyness.

When she came out after washing up, Tan Yanqing was standing by the dining table, calling her over.

“I saw you eat fried dough sticks for breakfast before, so I bought some.” Tan Yanqing said: “But I didn’t know if you liked soy milk.”

“I do.” Jian Hao sat in the chair Tan Yanqing had pulled out for her. “I like anything you prepare for me.”

“Why?”

Jian Hao took a bite of a dough stick. Before she could answer, Tan Yanqing answered for her: “Is it because you like me?”

“Yes.” Jian Hao nodded.

Tan Yanqing followed up: “Then what about the things Jian You prepares for you?”

Jian You? Usually, breakfast was prepared by Jian Sihong. But in the future, after Grandma passed away, her mother’s breakfasts—even if they were just eggs and milk—were hard-earned. Jian Hao had complained once, and Auntie Tan had given her a lecture.

Auntie Tan had said: “Your mother used to love sleeping in. Getting up this early to cook for you is a miracle. Back when her own mother was alive and someone pampered her, she could still be a child. But now, she has lost that identity. She only has you. She is a mother; even if you don’t like it, you cannot resent her. You must learn to cherish her.”

Although she hadn’t fully managed to care for Jian You’s feelings back then, she never criticized breakfast again. At worst, she’d just buy something else on the way to school. Her mom was never stingy with allowance money.

Jian Hao nodded and replied: “I like those, too.”

At the table, Tan Yanqing lowered her lashes. “It’s good that you’re not a picky eater.”

Jian Hao grinned: “And I have something that makes everyone jealous.”

“What’s that?”

“I can eat whatever I want and not get fat.”

Tan Yanqing’s obsidian-like eyes deepened. Her tone was casual, as if asking something insignificant: “How do you know that?”

“I’ve never been fat since I was little!”

Since I was little. Tan Yanqing’s eyes narrowed slightly. “Is that so.”

Jian Hao was still nodding. “Right—”

Eek!

Her chewing stopped for a split second. She quietly lifted her eyes, noting that Tan Yanqing’s gaze seemed meaningful. She swallowed the bite and gave a forced laugh. “I say ‘since I was little’ because, look how thin I am, I clearly must have never been fat. And I say I can eat whatever I want because these past few days at Jian You’s house, she gained two pounds and I haven’t gained any.”

She didn’t know if that cover-up worked. How did she slip up so easily? She stopped talking; at times like this, the more you say, the more you mess up. Just act calm and natural.

She picked up the soy milk. Tan Yanqing had already inserted the straw for her. she started drinking, her cheeks puffing in and out.

the light in Tan Yanqing’s eyes softened, and her eyes curved. So someone eating can be this cute.

“Mhm. Not fat.” Tan Yanqing reached out and pinched Jian Hao’s cheek. “There’s no meat on your face at all.”

Jian Hao stared blankly at the hand pinching her cheek.

What… what’s going on?

This was the most intimate gesture Tan Yanqing had proactively made since she traveled here. It felt even more natural than when Auntie Tan did it. Praising her in the morning, and now touching her… was Tan Yanqing—

Tan Yanqing maintained her boundaries, letting go after a quick pinch. Seeing Jian Hao’s healthy appetite, she picked up half a dough stick and sat opposite her. “What do you like to eat? I’ll prepare it in the future.”

“Prepare for what?”

“Your meals.”

“You don’t need to go to that trouble, right? I don’t come over that often.”

“You’ll be staying at my house from now on.”

Jian Hao froze for a moment. “Why?”

Tan Yanqing’s expression was perfectly calm, as if she were explaining a math problem to Jian Hao.

“You’re sleeping on a sofa at Jian You’s house. Even if you think it’s comfortable, there are bound to be inconveniences. If someone comes to her house and sees you sleeping on the sofa, wouldn’t that look bad?”

She lifted her lashes slightly, the cold distance in her eyes replaced by warmth. “Besides, my house is big and no one comes over. You can sleep wherever you want.”

Jian Hao still hadn’t fully processed the situation. Why would Tan Yanqing suddenly invite her to move in?

Tan Yanqing wiped the oil from her hands with a tissue, then crumpled the paper in her hand—giving an excuse for the fist she had tightened out of nervousness. “And aren’t we a perfect match? You and I are both alone. If you’re looking for a place to settle, staying here is just right. we can keep each other company.”

She gazed at Jian Hao with a tenderness Jian Hao had only ever seen in the eyes of “Auntie Tan.”

“Is it okay?” Tan Yanqing’s eyes curved as she tilted her head. “Lailai.”