He said: "Anyway, I'm not taking it off. I'll wear it forever."
Yu Wanwan had no choice. Since she had given it to him and he wanted to wear it so badly, she let him.
The rest of the trip was silent.
Until Yu Wanwan suddenly felt a weight on her shoulder. She stiffened instantly. This guy had unabashedly leaned his head on her shoulder.
Instinctively, she wanted to push him away, but when her hand touched his shoulder, she felt the tense muscle lines under the fabric and the completely relaxed, dependent weight.
"You're so heavy. Don't lean on me," Yu Wanwan complained softly, but her hand's force was light.
"Mm..." Zhang Jingxu sighed, lifting his head slightly. Just as Yu Wanwan thought he had come to his senses and was about to get up, he instead shifted his body and lay down on her lap. "So sleepy."
He... was using her lap as a pillow?!
Yu Wanwan's hands hovered in the air, flustered by his sudden boundary-crossing.
How could he be so presumptuous?
After a brief internal struggle, Yu Wanwan sighed in resignation and reluctantly accepted.
Come to think of it, he really did look like a well-behaved, gentle golden retriever now.
She raised her hand and gently stroked the ends of his hair, as if petting a dog.
The touch was unexpectedly soft. Yu Wanwan suddenly realized that his head now felt much better than the prickly, spiky hair from ten years ago.
For a moment, something in her heart seemed to be gently brushed by this soft sensation, stirring and filling her with a sense of fullness.
She turned her face to look at the neon lights outside the window, but she didn't move her legs, letting him lie on them.
When they finally arrived home, Yu Wanwan helped the unsteady man sit down in the living room, feeling as if she had carried a sack of sand—no, two sacks.
She was about to go to the kitchen to get him a bowl of chicken soup when Zhang Jingxu, still dizzy, grabbed her hand and looked at her with bleary eyes: "Don't go."
"I'm not leaving," Yu Wanwan pulled her hand away. "I'll get you some chicken soup."
She opened the clay pot; the soup was at just the right temperature. Worried it might be too greasy for him, she carefully skimmed off the oil again, then brought it over: "Drink this."
"Such fragrant chicken soup," Zhang Jingxu glanced at the soup she brought, then looked up, his tone like a child asking for a favor: "But I want water."
Yu Wanwan: "..."
She put on an unhappy expression, as if to say, I specially saved this soup for you, and you dare not drink it?
Zhang Jingxu quickly wilted under her glare. Without another word, he picked up the bowl and downed the soup in one go, then obediently said: "Finished."
Yu Wanwan tore off two tissues, roughly wiped his mouth, and threw the tissues into the trash like an impatient mother: "If you've finished, go to sleep."
"Teacher Yu," Zhang Jingxu called out again, his voice floating: "Aren't we having a lesson today?"
This was the first time Zhang Jingxu had called her "Teacher." Yu Wanwan was taken aback, feeling awkward at the address. She put her hands on her hips and said irritably: "What lesson? The course is over!"
"Oh," he craned his neck to look up at her, then compromised: "Then sit with me for a while."
"..."
She sighed wearily to the sky, but ultimately sat down.
"Teacher Yu." When Zhang Jingxu called her that again, Yu Wanwan suddenly realized he was incredibly annoying when drunk.
She turned her head, exhaustion written all over her face, and said perfunctorily: "What is it now?"