Fine strands of rain, driven by the wind, brushed against his face like water hitting hot iron, evaporating almost instantly. The heat in his cheeks refused to subside. They had already made love; he should have been satisfied. Yet, only now did Zhou Ye realize that the desire he felt for her hadn't diminished in the slightest. In fact, it seemed to be intensifying within him.

The sound of running water came from the bathroom. After about half an hour, the girl emerged, wearing a tracksuit that seemed a little too big for her. Xia Yao kept her head down, her long hair falling around her sweet face. She looked around for Zhou Ye, finally spotting him crouched by the bed, inexplicably staring at the used condom on the floor.

The curtains were now fully open, the window letting in the breeze. Xia Yao tilted her head slightly, curious about what he was doing. "Zhou Ye?"

Seeing her approach, Zhou Ye quickly shielded the bloodstained tissue he'd used to clean her earlier, then pocketed it as he stood. "I'll wash up quickly, then I'll take you home. Is it too late to leave now?" They had been there for about two hours; it was now eight in the evening.

"It's not late," Xia Yao shook her head.

As Zhou Ye walked over, he gently tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. Unable to resist, he leaned down and placed a light, chaste kiss on her earlobe. "Baby," he murmured, his voice slow and husky, thick with the satisfaction of a man after intimacy, "you're so beautiful."

Xia Yao's face flushed instantly. The spot where he'd kissed her throbbed, a wave of heat washing over her. A delicate blush crept up her pale neck.

After speaking, Zhou Ye left her standing there, mesmerized, as he went to shower. Even the sound of the water conjured images of droplets cascading down his body. She felt a sudden surge of desire. He had been so skilled, so good at making even a first-timer feel such pleasure. If he had been with other girls, they probably felt the same way she did now—completely captivated by his young, strong body.

The downpour had stopped, leaving the streets washed clean. A few dark gray clouds drifted across the sky, carried by the wind. On the way home, Xia Yao, perhaps exhausted, fell asleep against Zhou Ye's shoulder. The city lights flashed, the passing streetlights casting a flickering, cinematic glow across her peaceful face.

Zhou Ye watched her, his eyes half-closed, a complex mix of emotions swirling within him. She hadn't changed, not really, but he knew something within him had shifted. He had hidden the bloodstained tissue, avoiding her gaze after they made love. The girl he had secretly adored, the one he wanted to cherish, had just cried softly in his arms while he made love to her. He felt like that seed of affection he'd planted was just beginning to sprout. Subtle and silent, yet looking back, everything felt different. It was a constant, pervasive shift in his focus, drawing his attention to unfamiliar territories.

When high school started, there was a girl in his class who, during military training, always sat in the shade, watching them run laps and march under the instructor's command. Her skin was pale and soft, her eyelids thin enough to reveal the delicate veins beneath, yet her eyelashes were long and curled. Her dark eyes, when they met his, held a mixture of innocence and reserve. The other girls had bonded during the training, forming their own little cliques. But she, due to her delicate health, often grew pale and faint, excused by the instructor to rest. Different boys would often show her concern, bringing her water. But for some reason, after this happened a few times, she seemed to become excluded from the girls' circles. She was isolated.