Lin Mo was woken up by the feeling of being pressed down.
It wasn’t “sleep paralysis” (ghost pressing), of course. It was Shen Qingyue’s hand resting on his chest and Su Qianqian’s leg draped over his own. The hair of both girls brushed against his face, itching like crazy. He opened his eyes to see sunlight streaming through the window, casting the shadows of the three of them onto the sheets. It was dawn.
The “Thing” that had been in the dormitory was gone.
Shen Qingyue was still asleep. Her face was buried in the crook of his shoulder, her breathing shallow, her lips slightly parted against his neck. Her fingers clutched his T-shirt tightly. Su Qianqian was also asleep, her face pressed against his other shoulder and her hair scattered over his arm; her warm breath fanned against his skin.
Lin Mo didn’t dare move. As he waited for them to wake, his mind began to replay the events of last night.
A woman’s voice had come over the radio.
Shen Qingyue had asked if he liked her. And then there was that hand—the one that had been… teasing him down there. He looked down.
Shen Qingyue’s hand was on his chest. Su Qianqian’s hand was resting on his forearm. Neither of them. So where was that hand?
He slowly lifted his other hand. It hadn’t moved all night. It wasn’t his. Then whose was it? He turned to look at Shen Qingyue—she was still sleeping, hand on his chest. He turned to Su Qianqian—she was sleeping too, hand on his forearm. Both pairs of hands were accounted for. So, that hand last night…
A chill ran down Lin Mo’s spine. He stared at the radio, afraid to move.
Shen Qingyue stirred. Her face rubbed against his shoulder as she looked up, her nose brushing his chin. Her eyes opened slowly, misty and dazed, meeting his. As they stared at each other, Shen Qingyue’s face slowly flushed—from her cheeks to her ears, and down to her neck.
“Morning,” she whispered, her voice husky and thick with sleep. It sounded sweet and clinging.
“Morning,” Lin Mo replied. Shen Qingyue didn’t move. Her face remained pressed against his neck, her lips touching his skin. She didn’t hide; she didn’t pull back. She just stayed there. Lin Mo could feel her heart thumping—thump, thump, thump—just as fast as his own.
Su Qianqian woke up too. She opened her eyes and looked at Lin Mo. Then she saw Shen Qingyue lying on his chest and her own leg draped over him. Her face flushed red as well. Soon, her expression turned strange. Yesterday she had been too scared to care, but now she realized Shen Qingyue had actually spent the entire night sleeping with Lin Mo. How could this be? Even if nothing “happened,” they had shared a bed. She completely forgot that she was the one who had invited Lin Mo into the bed in the first place. Her shy expression shifted into something more inscrutable.
She pulled her leg back and moved her hand off his forearm.
“Good morning,” she said softly.
“Morning,” said Lin Mo.
Despite the greetings, none of them got out of bed. It was a bizarre scene: three people sharing a bed, with Lin Mo in the middle like an emperor with a woman on each side. It looked like a dream scenario.
But only Lin Mo knew how he actually felt—he wasn’t enjoying this one bit.
The three of them squeezed together, motionless. The blankets were a mess, and the pillows were tossed aside. The sunlight grew brighter, warming their bodies. It was quiet, save for the sound of breathing.
“Last night…” Shen Qingyue’s muffled voice came from his shoulder, “Did you hear what the radio said?”
“Yeah,” Lin Mo said.
“It said… the one left alone will die.” Shen Qingyue looked up at him. “If the three of us sleep together, will we be safe?”
Lin Mo didn’t speak. He didn’t know, but he didn’t want them to be afraid. “Probably,” he said.
Shen Qingyue breathed a sigh of relief. She buried her face back into his shoulder, her lips brushing his neck again. This time she didn’t flinch or move. She just stayed pressed there.
Su Qianqian watched from the side with a complex gaze. She opened her mouth to say something but stopped. Finally, she just leaned her face against Lin Mo’s shoulder and closed her eyes.
They lay there for a while longer. The sunlight was becoming so bright it felt hot on their faces. Lin Mo moved; he couldn’t keep going like this and tried to sit up. But Shen Qingyue clutched his T-shirt, holding him back.
“Just a little longer. I didn’t sleep well last night. I haven’t slept well in days,” she whispered.
Lin Mo stayed still. Shen Qingyue’s hand slid down from his shirt and touched his waist. Her fingers were cold, pressing against his waist through the fabric. She didn’t move, just kept her hand there.
Lin Mo’s breathing grew heavy. He could feel her cool fingers on his waist, and he could feel Su Qianqian’s warm breath on his arm.
“Lin Mo,” Shen Qingyue’s voice was so soft it was almost inaudible.
“Yeah?”
“Last night… did you feel anything?”
Lin Mo’s heart jumped into his throat. “What do you mean?”
“It’s just…” Shen Qingyue hesitated. “There was a hand. On my leg.”
Lin Mo froze. Su Qianqian froze too. Under the covers, everything went silent.
“I felt it too,” Su Qianqian suddenly spoke up, her voice muffled against Lin Mo’s shoulder. “On my hand. A hand touched me.”
Lin Mo’s blood turned cold. Wait, how many hands were there?
It wasn’t his hand; his hadn’t moved. It wasn’t Shen Qingyue’s, and it wasn’t Su Qianqian’s. Then whose was it?
A long silence followed.
“Maybe…” Shen Qingyue’s voice trembled, “Maybe it was her. That thing.”
Lin Mo remained silent. He wanted to say that he had felt a hand too, but that hand had been warm, not cold. Furthermore, it had been in a very… sensitive place, even teasing him occasionally. But he couldn’t tell them. They were already scared enough.
“Should we… still sleep together tonight?” Su Qianqian asked, her voice shaking slightly.
Shen Qingyue didn’t answer. She looked at Lin Mo.
“Is that really a good idea?” Lin Mo asked.
Suddenly, Lin Mo felt a sharp pinch on his waist. Ow!
“Ah! But then again, staying together wouldn’t hurt. What if something happens to whoever is left alone?”
Shen Qingyue’s hand tightened around his waist. Su Qianqian pressed her face closer to his shoulder. They stayed like that for a long time.
Eventually, as the sun climbed higher, Shen Qingyue sat up. Her hair was messy, and she had pillow marks on her face. She looked at Lin Mo, then at Su Qianqian.
“I’ll go get breakfast,” she said. She got out of bed, put on her slippers, and walked to the door. She glanced back at them once before pulling the door open and leaving.
The door closed. Only Lin Mo and Su Qianqian were left in the dorm, lying on the same bed in silence.
“Lin Mo,” she suddenly said.
“Yeah.”
“Last night… did you feel a hand?”
Lin Mo paused. “What?”
Su Qianqian lifted her head to look at him. Her face was so close he could see the curve of her eyelashes.
“Last night, a hand reached out to me. I don’t know if it touched you, but I felt you moving under the covers,” she said, her voice small but clear.
Lin Mo’s heart skipped a beat. “You…”
“I was curious what it was, so I felt around too.” Su Qianqian lowered her head, burying her face in his shoulder. “I didn’t mean any harm, I just wanted to see…”
Lin Mo opened his mouth, speechless. Su Qianqian’s hand brushed his arm once, then again. Suddenly, Lin Mo felt a familiar sensation—the exact spot he had been touched last night.
“Don’t tell Qingyue,” she whispered.
Lin Mo didn’t speak. Su Qianqian’s hand continued to press gently. Her hand was very hot, but “Little Lin Mo” was even hotter.
“What…” Lin Mo finally managed, “What are you doing??”
Su Qianqian didn’t answer. She buried her face deeper. Her lips brushed his neck—soft and warm. She didn’t move. Lin Mo’s breathing became labored. He could feel her heart racing, just as fast as his own.
“Because I like you,” Su Qianqian’s muffled voice came from his shoulder, so quiet it was barely a breath.
Lin Mo was stunned. Su Qianqian’s lips were against his neck, her breath on his skin. Her hand rested on his arm, unmoving. They just lay there. Neither said a word.
Suddenly, the door was pushed open. Shen Qingyue walked in carrying breakfast. She saw them still lying together, and her expression turned peculiar.
“You guys aren’t up yet?” Her voice sounded natural, but her eyes told a different story.
Su Qianqian lifted her head from Lin Mo’s shoulder and sat up. “We’re up.” Her voice was also calm, but her face was bright red.
Shen Qingyue didn’t say anything. She set the breakfast on the table. “Let’s eat.”
The three of them sat on the bed eating breakfast. No one spoke. The sun shone on their faces, but the atmosphere was incredibly awkward. Lin Mo kept his head down, not daring to look at them. He could feel two sets of eyes fixed on him—one from Shen Qingyue, one from Su Qianqian. Both were watching him. He pretended not to notice and kept eating his bun.