After the breakup, I was taken in by a group of trendy young women.

"You...you helped blondie...you helped tattooed guys...you helped everyone...you yourself...you got nothing..."

"Your hair has grown so long... and you haven't cut it..."

"You...your clothes are torn...and you don't even change them..."

"You...you gave us everything..."

Lin Ye tightened his arms around her.

He rolled over, pinning her beneath him. The sofa springs groaned under the weight.

He rolled over so fast that before her hair could even fall from the air, she was already pressed into the indentation of the sofa cushion.

Zhao Xiaoyue lay back on the sofa, her black hair spread out on the old sofa cushions like a splash of ink.

Her hands were still resting on his chest, her fingers slightly curled, her nails completely black.

The hem of the white slip dress bunched up at her waist, and two gleaming white legs stretched out from under the hem, one draped over the sofa armrest and the other hanging on the floor, the mottled red nail polish on her toes gleaming with a matte sheen in the pinkish-purple light.

Lin Ye looked down at her.

A pinkish-purple light streamed in from the balcony and fell on her face.

Her bangs were swept to the right, revealing her entire left forehead and brow bone. Her single-eyelid eyes shone like two glass beads just pulled from the water in the light. Her lips were slightly parted, revealing a glimpse of her white front teeth.

Her fingers moved up from his chest and touched his face.

She pressed her palm against his cheek, her fingertips tracing circles along the edge of his newly cut short hair. She could feel the extremely short stubble left after the razor had cut his hair, a slight stinging sensation, like the feeling of spring grass just sprouting from the soil and pricking her palm.

"elder brother."

Her voice was as light as the wind, with a soft, cotton candy-like tone that he had never heard before.

"From now on... you'll always get your hair cut at that salon... okay?"

Lin Ye was stunned for a moment.

He didn't expect her to say this at this time.

Why?

"Because...because that store's shampoo...smells good...it leaves that scent on your hair...I...I like it..."

Her face turned red.

It wasn't the kind of red that burns from the neck to the ears; it was the kind of red that slowly seeps out from under the cheekbones, like rouge spreading on rice paper, spreading outwards layer by layer, from the cheekbones to the cheeks to the ears to the chin, until finally the whole face turned pink.

Lin Ye looked at her flushed face and lowered his head to kiss her lips.

Zhao Xiaoyue's hand slid down his face and wrapped around his neck.

Ten fingers intertwined on the back of his neck, their nails lightly scraping his hairline, a sensation that sent shivers down his spine.

A sound escaped from her mouth.

An uncontrollable, tearful gasp squeezed from the deepest part of the throat.

The sound wasn't loud, but it was exceptionally clear in the quiet living room. It was so clear that Zhang Jingjing, lying on the hallway floor, rolled over and muttered, "Qi Liuhai, keep your voice down." It was so clear that Green Hair, lying on the yoga mat, buried his face in the pillow. It was so clear that Shen Qing, curled up in the corner of the sofa with Wangcai in her arms, opened her eyes and then closed them again.

Zhao Xiaoyue heard those sounds, but she didn't stop.

She buried her face in Lin Ye's neck, her lips pressed against the throbbing vein on the side of his neck, her voice muffled and trembling against his skin, but every word seemed to be dug out from the deepest part of his heart.

"elder brother……"

"My name is Zhao Xiaoyue..."

"You...you remember...my name is Zhao Xiaoyue..."

Lin Ye's lips brushed against her earlobe, his voice so low it sounded like a vibration coming from the depths of the earth.

"Zhao Xiaoyue".

He called her name again, pronouncing each syllable clearly, as if confirming the pronunciation of the three words, or as if doing something more solemn than anything before.

Zhao Xiaoyue lifted her face from the crook of his neck while she was under him.

A pinkish-purple light streamed in from the balcony and fell on her face.

The bangs that were askew to the right were soaked with sweat, tears and saliva, sticking to the forehead in strands, revealing the outline of the entire face.

Her eyes were glistening, but not with tears. There were teeth marks on her lips; she had bitten them herself.

There was a smile on her face, not the kind of flamboyant, unrestrained smile, but the kind of reassuring, grounded smile, like someone who has been drenched in the rain for a long time and has finally found shelter.

She looked at Lin Ye for two seconds.

Then she reached out and pulled him down, her lips brushing against his ear.

"elder brother."

Her voice was as soft as the wind, so soft that only the two of them could hear it. It was so soft that it drowned out all the sounds of the night breeze outside the window, Zhang Jingjing's murmurs in the corridor, and Wangcai's snoring on the sofa.

"You'll still need to get your hair cut at that salon... okay?"

Lin Ye looked at her.

"it is good."

Zhao Xiaoyue smiled.

It wasn't the kind of laugh that comes from "discovering something fun," nor the laugh that comes from "success." It was a different kind of laugh, a reassuring and comforting laugh, like the laugh of someone who has been standing in the rain for a long time and has finally found shelter.

A pinkish-purple light streamed in from the balcony, falling on the two intertwined bodies, on Zhao Xiaoyue's black hair scattered on the sofa, on the soft strands of hair between Lin Ye's fingers, on the faded cotton underwear on Zhao Xiaoyue's ankles, on Wangcai's perked-up ears, on the waist exposed when Zhang Jingjing rolled over in the corridor, on the heads of the green and pink hairs huddled together, and on Bai Xiaojing's empty bed.

The streetlights outside the window were still on.

The night wind blew a crack through the clouds on the distant horizon, and moonlight leaked through the gap, shining through the thin layer of dust on the window and onto the floor of the rented room, onto the armrest of the old sofa, onto the underwear that had slipped off Zhao Xiaoyue's ankle, and onto the cat food bowl that Wangcai had kicked over.

The sounds in the room gradually subsided.

Zhao Xiaoyue's breathing went from rapid to steady, and then from steady to long and deep.

Her face was still buried in Lin Ye's neck, her fingers were still clutching the collar of his T-shirt, and her legs were still wrapped around his waist.

Lin Ye lay on the sofa, with Zhao Xiaoyue nestled against his chest. Her black hair cascaded over his shoulder, the ends brushing against his arm, tickling him.

He looked down at Zhao Xiaoyue's face, which was half-exposed by her hair. Her bangs were soaked and stuck to her forehead, and there was a thin layer of water on her eyelashes. Her lips were slightly parted, and she was breathing evenly.

"Zhao Xiaoyue," he called softly.

She didn't respond.

But her fingers curled slightly against his chest, as if in response.

Lin Ye picked up the old bed sheet that had slipped to the ground and covered her with it.

The corner of the sheet just covered her exposed shoulder, and he reached out and turned off the floor lamp.

The rented room went completely dark, with only the pinkish-purple light streaming in from the balcony and a small patch of clouds on the distant horizon illuminated by moonlight.

In the corridor, Zhang Jingjing turned over, mumbled something unintelligible, and then fell into a deep sleep again.

The breathing sounds of the green and pink hairs on the yoga mat rose and fell, like two tides with different frequencies.

Wangcai's snoring came from the corner of the sofa, even and drawn out.

On Bai Xiaojing's empty bed, the scent of strawberry shampoo still lingered on the pillow.

Lin Ye closed his eyes.

Zhao Xiaoyue's breathing rose and fell on his chest, like the tide, crashing against his heart.