Water and Fire~Chapter 78.1: A Kiss

 

Chapter 78.1: A Kiss

It was probably his third year of graduate school, and she was a freshman.

People were playing cards in the dormitory all day long, and he found the noise annoying, so he took a book and headed to the nearest academic building.

He found a relatively empty lecture hall, walked to the last row, opened the book, and began to read quietly.

Soon, many students entered the classroom. He realized that class was in progress.

He was too lazy to leave, so he sat in the back and listened. It was an undergraduate finance class, and the lecturer was an old professor who had taught him before, an amusing old man who could be confused, sometimes shrewd. Even after several years, the old man's mouth still had a familiar smell. The reading glasses on his nose were just a little thicker than when he was an undergraduate.

He sat quietly in the last row, idling through the class and reading.

He thought the classroom layout was set, but just as the bell rang, another girl rushed in from the lecture hall entrance.

The girl looked a little younger than the others, with a ponytail and bright eyes. She ran briskly toward the back of the lecture hall. She reached the last row, saw someone sitting there reading, and then, with a sullen look, she stopped and scurried into the second-to-last row to sit down.

She sat right in front of him.

She leaned back in her chair, raised her hand to lift her ponytail, and the tip of her hair brushed against his book.

The old professor began to call the roll. A fascinating moment occurred.

He had seen people answering for others many times, but this was the first time he had seen one person do three different things, using one voice to create three different voices.

The old professor called out a name first, "Qiu Yun."

The girl in the row in front of him replied, "Here." It sounded like her natural voice, crisp and clear.

The old professor called out another name, "Liu Liu."

She put on a sweet, innocent voice and replied, "Here."

After a while, the old professor called out another name, "Huang Ying."

This time, her voice sounded playful and soft, and she replied, "Here."

For a moment, she was busy, nervously working on her vocal cords. He stared at her back. His mood was usually dull, but that day, he found her unusually amusing and actually smiled silently.

He and the little girl thought that after the roll call, the class was over. Unfortunately, the funny old man was a funny old man. He never let the class become monotonous; he always wanted interaction. He asked questions while lecturing.

The old professor mentioned a question and called out a name, asking the student to stand up and answer. Coincidentally, the name he called was one of the three roles played by the little girl in the front row.

At first, he was buried in his book, ignoring the excitement.

But as the girl stood up to answer the question, he couldn't help but look up from his book and glance at the back of the girl in the front row.

She wasn't shy at all, spouting off a stream of legal nonsense that sounded logical and reasonable, but in reality, had nothing to do with the professor's question.

After she finished answering the question and sat down, the professor seemed to be struggling, not knowing whether to praise her for her unique approach or scold her for straying off topic.

He glanced at her back again, as if he could see through her slender figure and see her slyly grinning.

He couldn't help but smile again.

I wonder if she had offended the professor that day. A moment later, the professor asked another question, and when he called on someone to answer, he was surprised to find that the name she had played was one of the three characters she had portrayed.

After the professor called out the name, he heard a sigh. He looked up in response and saw the girl in the front row quickly remove her hair tie, loosen her ponytail, and take off her jacket. She went from a dashing girl in a denim jacket and ponytail to a dainty lady with long hair and a white shirt.

The old professor asked from the podium, "Where's Huang Ying? Huang Ying, wasn't she here when roll call was just given? Stand up and answer the question."

He noticed the young lady move two seats to the side. He thought she was interesting and even considered changing seats.

Then she stood up, her voice soft and innocent, and continued her nonsense.

The other students turned to look at her. She wasn't shy either, calmly answering her questions.

The old professor looked up from over his reading glasses and said, "Your answer is a bit more reliable than the last student. Please sit down."

She sat down and took a deep breath.

He looked down at her from the side. She was tucking her hair behind her ear, revealing a fresh, fresh profile.

He found it amusing. She stopped reading and simply leaned her elbows on the table, her face in her hands, waiting to see if the professor would call on her third role. He was actually a little bit expecting the professor to call her, and a little curious to see how she would handle the situation.

He noticed that she also seriously doubted she would be called on again, and he saw that she was preparing for it. She darted back to her previous position, right in front of him, and quickly combed her long hair into twin ponytails.

Then she suddenly turned around, grinned at him, and whispered, "Senior, could you please move over a seat?"

He was startled by her grin, which showed off her tiny white teeth. Then she moved a seat over.

She hunched over to the seat he had just sat in, and told him with gratitude, "I have a feeling the teacher will need me to answer questions again, so I'm moving ahead."

As soon as she finished speaking, the professor actually called on her again.

He heard her let out a muffled howl and say, "Oh my goodness, this old man must have done this on purpose!"

He lowered his head, then couldn't help laughing.

She stood up. This time, the questions were all about economic calculations, and her nonsense wasn't working.

The old professor, unable to wait for an answer, looked up from over his reading glasses at her, then at him next to her, and spoke. "Student, are you in this class, or are you here to accompany your boyfriend to class? Oh, you kids, you have to pay attention in class. Don't just be so caught up in your relationship that you're not paying attention."

He thought the old professor had misunderstood them as a couple.

She stood next to him and quickly waved her hand in denial. "Teacher, I'm not in a relationship. We're not doing that. I'm just in this class, and I'm paying attention."

Even in all the hustle and bustle, she still managed to change her voice, sounding playful and soft. He thought she paid attention to the consistency of her persona.

The old professor spoke from the podium, "Since you said you're in this class, answer the question. If you can't, I'll kick you out." The old man half-taunted and half-threatened her.

She scratched her head and hummed, stalling for time, her foot even kicking him under the table.

He wanted to laugh again. Holding back his laughter, he whispered the correct answer to her.

She quickly relayed the answer, finally passing the test without a hitch.

The old professor told her to sit down and listen carefully.

As soon as she sat down, she hunched her neck over the table, panting heavily. Then she turned to him, smiled, and said, "Thank you, senior. I'm a freshman. It's thanks to you that I didn't get kicked out just now."

That was the first time he had seen her, the first time he had found a girl so interesting and so captivating.

When they said goodbye, she kept saying, "Senior, you've forgotten me."

He hadn't forgotten her at all.

He was even surprised that after all these years, he could still remember that smile. Suddenly, it blossomed, brilliant like a petal dripping with dew on a spring morning.

Exactly the same way she smiled at him now.

She lay in bed, her long, jet-black hair spread out across the white sheets. Her cheeks were a pink, her eyes moist as she gazed at him with a smile, a slightly unfocused expression. Her hands still clutched the front of his shirt, holding him tightly against her. If he hadn't used his hands to support her sides, holding himself apart, he would have been on top of her. It was the kind of intimate position only lovers should have.

The blood in his body seemed to surge, and he couldn't tell if it was the alcohol or her fault.

He swallowed without thinking, his Adam's apple throbbing as he swallowed the turmoil, summoning his senses.

When he opened his mouth again, he realized his voice was hoarse. He heard himself huskily coaxing her, "Let go of your hands and get some rest."

Her eyes were hazy, and she smiled at him, not listening.

She raised her other hand to rub her eyes, asking, "Excuse me, big brother, who are you? I'm so confused about why I can't see clearly today."

She rubbed her eyes, her delicate, beautiful fingertips waving before his eyes like tender bamboo shoots.

After rubbing her eyes, she looked at him, steady, and suddenly smiled brightly.

That smile was like a blow to his heart.

She suddenly grabbed his shirt and pulled him down. He was caught off guard, pressing down on her. Their bodies pressed tightly against each other through the clothes. She was so soft that it seemed like she would break if he applied too much force. He tensed up, his whole body stiff and tense.

She breathed into him, smiling, "Senior, are you here to accompany me in my er*tic dreams again?"

Her voice was soft and gentle, touching his heart.

He looked at her beneath him.

So beautiful, so wonderful, so naive.

Her curved lips were rosy and innocent, yet so alluring.

He pressed against her, his nose almost touching hers. He looked at her, his breath filled with her sweet, alluring scent. Her red lips moved, parting slightly, and she softly called out "Senior" again. A wet, pink tongue darted out, licking his lips.

Blood rushed to his head, a throbbing throb in his brain.

Unable to hold back any longer, he raised his hand to grasp her chin, suddenly lowered his head, and kissed those soft, wet lips fiercely.

At that moment, he was possessed. He wanted, just once, to know what it felt like to kiss her.

He held her lips, kissing her fervently, with reckless abandon, a kiss that ravished him, his tongue shoving into her mouth, entwined with hers for a moment. She responded passionately, her soft lips and tongue either sucking him or licking his lips for him to suck. The sweet aroma of wine between her lips and teeth was intoxicating.

His mind went blank as he sealed her with a kiss, all his senses focused on the entwined lips and tongues.

She choked, a delicate, yet complaining moan.

That moan, like thunder in the clear sky, awoke him.

At that moment, his consciousness returned, and he abruptly let go of her, pushing himself to his feet.

She glanced at him with drunken eyes, smiled. Then, contentedly, she closed her eyes and fell asleep.

He raised his hand and rubbed her soft, still moist lips with his thumb. She was truly asleep, her breaths shallow and even against his fingertips.

After tucking Chu Qianmiao in the blanket and turning off the lights, Ren Yan fled her room as if escaping.

Back in his own room, he rushed to the bathroom, turned on the faucet, and poured handfuls of cold water over his face.

He was completely awake.

He looked up at himself in the mirror. Embarrassed, flustered, he took advantage of his drunkenness to commit evil, then fled in disgrace. He truly wasn't a man.

He knew Tan Shen was with her. He knew he should draw a line between them, yet why did he still do such a thing?

He punched the mirror, shattering the image of himself in it.

He couldn't touch her again.