Chapter 91: Kiss

It was obvious even to Yang Shuli, who was sitting beside them, that both were already somewhat intoxicated.

Ye Qingchang had started out focused on the barbecue in front of her, but gradually shifted to carefully watching Xiao Yi’an on the shore, who was still searching for something.

By the end, she was eating a bite, then looking up again.

If she were sober, Ye Qingchang would never have done something like this. It was only now, with her guard down and her mind slightly muddled, that this happened.

The bottle of beer, illuminated by the string of light bulbs hanging overhead, looked dazzling.

She watched as the golden-haired girl, Liu Xie, raised the bottle in her hand, tilting it at a greater and greater angle.

Finally, the bottle stood perpendicular to the ground and table, forming a perfect ninety-degree angle. The pale yellow liquid rushed eagerly into Liu Xie’s mouth.

A loud bang echoed as Liu Xie slammed the glass bottle fiercely onto the table.

Just as Ye Qingchang, amazed, was about to applaud, another loud bang followed.

Liu Xie, her face flushed bright red, had smashed her head onto the table.

Those eating barbecue, those watching the scene unfold, all suddenly fell silent.

Ye Qingchang was stunned for a moment, then gently lifted Liu Xie’s head and checked her breathing. After going through the usual steps, she found that Liu Xie had simply fallen asleep.

“So she’s passed out drunk, huh?” Zhu Niao pointed at the girl who had suddenly collapsed.

Ye Qingchang nodded stiffly.

“Eh, this second sister is really pathetic.” Yang Shuli immediately started teasing, “Seriously lame.”

Especially now, with Liu Xie offline and unreachable for punishment.

Ye Qingchang ignored Yang Shuli’s teasing and moved her trembling hand away from the chilled beer.

She had come to understand—it wasn’t the beer’s quality, nor was the shop selling fake alcohol.

Simply put, after becoming a girl, her tolerance for alcohol had dropped significantly.

Knowing that one whole bottle could knock Liu Xie out cold…

Ye Qingchang glanced at her own half-empty beer bottle in front of her.

Suddenly, the faint symptoms of drunkenness she had just underestimated felt magnified a hundredfold.

Her head spun even more, her movements grew sluggish.

But she still forced a blank expression, as if everything was under her control, only pushing the beer farther away from herself.

Unlike Liu Xie, who wouldn’t drink another sip knowing she couldn’t handle it, Ye Qingchang still looked composed.

Yang Shuli looked up and said to Zhu Niao, “Doesn’t she know her face is red like a monkey’s butt right now?”

“Probably.”

Of course, Ye Qingchang couldn’t feel it. She only sensed her face burning hotter and hotter, her head growing warmer.

It was like an old phone running the highest graphics settings on O God.

She continued eating her skewer, though it seemed the taste was dulled somehow.

So she faced the shore, letting the sea breeze blow against her face, trying to carry away the scent of alcohol on her.

It didn’t work.

Giving up hope on the elusive moon reflected on the sea, Ye Qingchang looked toward the figure still wandering along the shore.

Her phone buzzed—one of the few people she especially cared about.

Her electronic pet, Xiao Yi’an.

【Are you at the beach?】

He couldn’t think of a more awkward, roundabout way to ask, so he just sent the message bluntly like that.

That was just like Xiao Yi’an. If he could say anything else, anything more clever enough to make her spit out her purpose, it wouldn’t be like him at all.

Maybe by then, Xiao Yi’an could be considered a master, but Ye Qingchang certainly wouldn’t be happy.

She took off her glasses, rubbed her eyes, and inexplicably chuckled.

He had been searching the beach for a long time before finally thinking to send her a message.

There was no way she would have deleted that one photo she posted on her Moments after Xiao Yi’an saw it—that would only have made it obvious.

But it seemed Xiao Yi’an really believed that love was about mutual attraction, and that it could lead him to find where she was.

Until now, he had only just messaged her.

Maybe it helped a little. After all, Xiao Yi’an hadn’t left her sight. He had been lingering in the area the whole time.

He was down there, blowing cold wind underground, wearing that tasteless black-and-white striped shirt—like a zebra.

Ye Qingchang knew exactly how she should reply. She should feign surprise and say something like, “Eh, how did you know?”

Then Xiao Yi’an would say he saw it on her Moments, and she could gradually take control of the rhythm. Not only would Xiao Yi’an not get her location, he would end up blowing cold wind on the shore with her for hours.

But now, she didn’t want to.

Maybe it was because she’d drunk too much. She made no reply.

She wondered how Xiao Yi’an looked down there, embarrassed, trying to track her down with the sea breeze as a guide.

She could see his footsteps left on the sand clearly, but she didn’t know what Xiao Yi’an was thinking.

Maybe he treated it as a trial. Maybe he saw it as a once-in-a-lifetime chance to seize.

But she knew one thing: Xiao Yi’an’s white moonlight would never respond to him.

She was such a despicable person.

She also knew that Xiao Yi’an wouldn’t give up. Not until dawn, not until the beach was empty, not until the sun rose and he still didn’t know where to find his moonlight.

Ye Qingchang was a villain so vile even gods would be enraged. Xiao Yi’an was a fool so pitiful he was beyond salvation.

And that was fine. This was how it would continue.

She would remain Xiao Yi’an’s irreplaceable white moonlight, and Xiao Yi’an would always need her.

Neither would affect the other. In fact, this was the best ending.

As the literary club president, Ye Qingchang would distract poor club member Xiao Yi’an’s feelings until he could rival that white moonlight.

Then, one afternoon upon waking, they would both vanish from Xiao Yi’an’s life, and he wouldn’t care much either.

They would gradually stop searching for each other, the divided emotions growing harder to balance, until eventually, the only time Xiao Yi’an thought of this longtime acquaintance was when sending holiday greetings.

“Damn…”

Ye Qingchang lowered her head.

Her head was spinning, but perhaps she had never been this clear-headed before.

“Damn!”

She grabbed the beer she had pushed away earlier, took a big gulp, and stood up abruptly.

Without her glasses and half drunk, her black pleated skirt swayed with her slender long legs. It took some effort for her black sneakers to step onto the sand.

She saw that lonely figure walking alone not far away.

Xiao Yi’an was still wandering, now with the added action of staring intently at his phone.

Maybe he was waiting eagerly for a message that would never come.

The rising tide of the night lapped at his feet.

But he still didn’t get a message.

The first thing to step on his shadow wasn’t the shore, but a pair of delicate black sneakers.

His wrist was grabbed, a little force applied. Though small, it was enough to make him instinctively turn around before he could react.

The first thing he sensed was a whiff of alcohol, making him frown slightly.

Then, without his glasses, he finally saw the girl in front of him, who had also taken off her glasses—her face flushed more than usual.

“President? What are you doing here?” Xiao Yi’an turned off his phone screen and put it away, as if afraid Ye Qingchang would see his pitiful state of waiting for a message from his white moonlight—or afraid that white moonlight could see Ye Qingchang through the internet.

Recalling the smell of alcohol, Xiao Yi’an asked again, “You’ve been drinking?”

His relaxed brow furrowed once more, genuine concern showing.

“President, if you can’t drink, you should drink less…”

Ye Qingchang, the president of his literary club, grabbed his collar, rose on tiptoe, and pulled Xiao Yi’an’s face close to hers—close enough that their two faces were just inches apart.

“I like you.”

She cut off whatever Xiao Yi’an was about to say.

“No, no, no.”

The boy’s panic and timidity overwhelmed everything.

Xiao Yi’an waved his hand nervously. “President, I know you’re trying to tease me, but I’m busy right now and don’t have time to play.”

“Xiao Yi’an.” Ye Qingchang said his full name, as if trying to savor every bitter syllable. “I like you, Xiao Yi’an.”

In Xiao Yi’an’s dazed gaze, she tugged at his collar hard.

Her lips, still tinged with the scent of alcohol, sealed off all the words trying to escape from this moment.

In Xiao Yi’an’s eyes, there was only her at this instant. As long as it was a romantic moment, no matter when or where he recalled it, it could only ever be Ye Qingchang.

The first kiss he received was from the literary club president Ye Qingchang—not from the intangible, elusive moonlight online.