Chapter 72: Secretly Yearning for a Friend—Is This Right?

In the bedroom.

Jiang Muyun’s finger slid across her phone screen, her eyes scanning each name one by one.

Who?

Who could she use right now?

She had to act.

She had to do something to make that Yan Yu pay!!

The thought consumed her, and the faster she scrolled, the more frantic it became.

Classmates.

Teachers.

Club friends.

Gallery contacts she’d worked with before.

Some names she couldn’t even remember who they belonged to anymore.

Until—

Her finger stopped.

The name on the screen was: Li Duo.

This girl was the Vice President of the Student Council.

Capable enough, but nothing too outstanding.

She was about to run for Student Council President next year—with her current strength and reputation, her chances weren’t great, but they weren’t impossible either.

Jiang Muyun and Li Duo had crossed paths before—met a few times at school event planning meetings and exchanged a few words.

It wasn’t a deep friendship, but they knew each other.

She stared at that name, her mind racing.

Right now, the Student Council was handling the list of works selected for the city’s art exhibition.

If she could make Li Duo her inside agent in the Student Council and find a way to swap Yan Yu’s entry out…

The irritation that had been weighing on Jiang Muyun’s heart finally eased a little, replaced by a cold calm.

That’s it.

She would offer to help Li Duo win the presidential election in exchange for Li Duo becoming her inside agent.

With this method, if she could pull Yan Yu down from that position, she would still have a chance.

She narrowed her eyes, tapped her thumb lightly on the screen, and opened Li Duo’s chat.

Yan Yu, on the other hand, wasn’t putting too much thought into the art exhibition.

To her, it was just a regular selection of her work—it helped with scholarship points, but not by much.

What really mattered to her was something else.

The exam.

Tomorrow was the midterm exam.

The night before the exam, Yan Yu finished her shower and returned to her room in a light-colored loungewear.

Her hair wasn’t completely dry yet—half-damp, half-wet, it clung to her shoulders, carrying the faint scent of body wash.

She had already reviewed everything she needed to.

Her mental state had improved a lot recently, and her understanding of various professional theories had made clear progress.

Her review efficiency had increased significantly.

What used to take three reads to remember now took only one read to understand about seventy to eighty percent.

Though this change wasn’t earth-shattering, she could clearly feel it.

The room was very quiet, lit only by the warm yellow glow of the desk lamp and the occasional chirp of insects from outside the window.

Yan Yu sat at her desk, focused on the open textbook.

Her fingers pinched the edge of the page, her eyes scanning line by line through the dense text, her brain still working efficiently—each section was quickly understood and absorbed.

She had been studying for almost an hour.

Her eyes were starting to ache.

She flipped another page, paused briefly, and reached for the glass of milk on the desk.

Ruo Xiaozhen had warmed it for her before bed.

The temperature was just right—not too hot, not too cold.

A thin layer of condensation clung to the glass’s surface.

She brought the glass to her lips and was about to take a sip—

Smack.

The light went out.

The room suddenly plunged into darkness, with only the moonlight streaming through the window casting a silvery glow on the floor.

The desk lamp’s light vanished.

The textbook’s words became invisible.

The whole world seemed to have been hit by something that slammed the pause button.

Yan Yu was momentarily startled.

Her fingers twitched involuntarily, the glass wobbling in her hand.

Warm milk splashed out onto her hand, then trickled down between her fingers.

“Ah—sorry, sorry! My new hairdryer has too much power—the old house’s breaker tripped!”

Ruo Xiaozhen’s voice came from outside, tinged with panic and apology.

Then came the sound of hurried, shuffling footsteps—probably heading to the circuit box.

A few seconds later, the lights came back on.

The desk lamp’s glow once again spread across the tabletop, warm yellow and peaceful.

Yan Yu looked down.

Quite a bit of milk had spilled from the glass, coating the back of her hand and the spaces between her fingers with a milky white liquid.

She set the glass back on the table, turned her palm over, and looked at the streak of milk running from the base of her thumb all the way to her index finger.

She didn’t think much of it.

She just lowered her head, stuck out her tongue, and gently licked the small puddle of milk off the back of her hand.

The motion was natural—her tongue lightly grazed her skin, rolling the milky white into her mouth.

Then she pursed her lips, grabbed a few wet wipes, dried the remaining moisture from her hand, tossed the crumpled tissues into the trash can by her feet, and picked up her pen again.

Everything was as usual.

But she didn’t know.

Right behind her, at the doorway, someone was standing there.

Ruo Xiaozhen had originally rushed over to check on Yan Yu.

The moment the power went out, the first person she thought of was Yan Yu—Yan Yu was already frail.

What if she got scared?

What if she bumped into something in the dark?

After flipping the breaker, she hadn’t even bothered to put on her slippers; she ran over barefoot.

But when she reached the doorway, she suddenly lost the courage to go in.

She stood at the entrance, illuminated by the desk lamp that had just come back on, and saw Yan Yu’s profile.

That profile was exquisite.

The warm light gilded her contours, making an already gentle silhouette even softer.

Yan Yu’s head was slightly lowered, her eyelashes casting a small fan-shaped shadow beneath her eyes, her lips parted just a little.

And then she saw it.

Yan Yu extended half a pink tongue and gently licked the back of her own hand.

That motion… was indescribably… beautiful.

Ruo Xiaozhen suddenly felt her heartbeat go out of rhythm.

She just stood there in the doorway, as if frozen by some spell, staring at the scene without moving.

She even forgot to speak, forgot to walk in and talk to Yan Yu.

The scene was fleeting.

Yan Yu hadn’t noticed her presence at all.

After licking the milk away and drying her hand, she dove back into her studies.

But Ruo Xiaozhen felt as if that image had been carved into her brain.

She couldn’t forget it.

She quietly took half a step back, pressing her back against the corridor wall.

Her mind was a mess, like a swarm of bees buzzing inside.

She thought of Yan Yu’s profile—that face so soft and gentle under the warm yellow light.

She thought of Yan Yu’s lips—those parted lips revealing a tiny tip of a tongue.

She even thought of the color of that tongue—pink, moist, glistening faintly under the light.

Suddenly, she wanted to touch that small mouth.

“With my fingertips… or… with my lips?”

Ah, no, no, no, no, that’s wrong!

Ruo Xiaozhen shook her head violently, covering her burning cheeks with both hands.

What was she thinking?!

The more she thought about it, the redder her face got.

The heat spread from her cheeks to her ears, then to her neck—her entire face turned as red as a boiled shrimp.

Strange.

What was this feeling?

Every time Yan Yu got close, she felt this strange sensation.

When Yan Yu smiled at her, she felt a warmth in her heart, like something was melting.

When Yan Yu said “Good night” to her, she felt that voice echo in her ears for a long time, impossible to shake off.

When Yan Yu was reading seriously, she would unconsciously stare at that profile, sometimes for minutes at a time.

She knew she really liked Yan Yu.

She wanted to be Yan Yu’s closest friend, wanted to eat meals with her every day, chat, share everything.

But…

This feeling—so intense, making her heart race, conjuring up those “wild thoughts”—

Was this really how best friends, how close girlfriends, were supposed to feel?

Ruo Xiaozhen couldn’t find an answer.

She only knew her face was hot, her heart was pounding, and her mind was full of Yan Yu’s shadow.

She tiptoed around, turning her back to Yan Yu’s door, and walked step by step back to her own room.

Her footsteps were very light—so light it was as if she was afraid of being heard.

The moment she closed the door, she leaned her whole body against it, slowly sliding down until she was sitting on the floor, hugging her knees and burying her burning face in her arms.

Right then, she remembered that towel from before.

That time Yan Yu had fallen in the bathroom, and she had used that towel to wipe her down.

Soft white cotton, inch by inch, had traced over Yan Yu’s shoulders, back, arms, and waist.

Later, she had carefully tucked it away, folded it neatly, and hidden it in the deepest part of her closet.

Like hiding a secret that couldn’t be known.

Now, as if possessed, Ruo Xiaozhen stood up.

She first turned to glance outside the door.

The hallway was quiet.

Yan Yu’s door was shut tight, a sliver of warm light showing beneath it.

No movement.

Only then did she sneak into her own room, closing the door behind her without a sound.

The closet door creaked open slightly.

Her fingers groped through a neatly stacked row of clothes, pushing aside the top sweatshirt, pushing aside the scarf, pushing aside the canvas bag she rarely used.

And then, she saw it.

The towel.

Pure white, folded into a perfect square, lying quietly at the very bottom of the closet.

The light from above shone down, casting a soft sheen over the towel’s surface.

Ruo Xiaozhen reached out, her fingertip gently touching the surface of the towel.

A soft texture.

The moment her fingertip touched the cotton, countless images flooded her mind.

Yan Yu, head slightly lowered, the light falling on her profile, extending half a pink tongue to slowly lick the milk off the back of her hand.

That delicate face, those slightly parted lips, that wet tongue, gleaming faintly under the light…

All the images intertwined, as if something had burst through the soil.

She couldn’t hold it in anymore.