Lemon Soda Candy - 64

After walking back to the apartment together, Zhou Anran grabbed a pack of soda candies and plopped onto the couch to open it.  

She picked out two lemon-flavored pieces first, unwrapped one, and held it out to the boy beside her. “Want one?”  

Chen Luobai leaned forward and took the candy from her hand with his mouth.  

Zhou Anran unwrapped another for herself, popped it in her mouth, then emptied the rest of the candies into a ziplock bag.  

“What’re you doing?” Chen Luobai asked.  

Zhou Anran replied, “Making you a candy wrapper flower.”  

Chen Luobai raised an eyebrow. “You’re really giving me flowers?”  

  

Zhou Anran nodded. “Of course, didn’t we just agree on it?”  

“Alright then.” Chen Luobai leaned back lazily on the couch. “I’ll wait for my gift.”  

The corners of Zhou Anran’s lips curved up, a faint dimple appearing on her cheek.  

Chen Luobai lounged on the couch, watching her.  

When she’d come in earlier, she’d casually tied her long, wavy hair into a low bun, leaving a single strand of dark hair resting quietly against her cheek. The warm light from the ceiling lamp cast a soft glow on her fair face, making her expression almost unbearably tender.  

He’d only made a half-joking, jealous comment on the way home, and now here she was, obediently folding candy wrappers into flowers for him.  

They’d been together for a while now, yet it seemed like no matter what he said, she’d go along with it.  

So obedient it was almost silly.  

  

Chen Luobai crunched the candy in his mouth, quietly studying the girl’s beautiful profile. His heart felt soft, almost melting, yet stirred with waves that wouldn’t settle.  

There weren’t many candies in the apartment, so Zhou Anran only had enough wrappers to fold two flowers.  

She’d originally learned to fold candy wrapper flowers to preserve the snacks he gave her, never imagining that one day she'd make them for him.  

After carefully folding the two flowers, Zhou Anran was about to hand them to him.  

But as she turned, her lips were suddenly captured.  

Zhou Anran froze for a moment. The next second, he scooped her up, pulling her onto his lap, his kiss unrelenting. Chen Luobai gently pinched her chin, and out of habit, she parted her lips, letting his tongue slip inside.  

  

When she’d come in earlier, she’d casually started the music player on her phone.  

Now, she had no idea which song was playing—she wasn’t paying attention.  

The living room was quiet, music drowning out the soft sounds of their kisses, though during the interludes, those faint noises seemed to grow suddenly noticeable.  

After who-knows-how-many songs, Chen Luobai pulled back slightly, his nose brushing against hers. His eyes sparked with something obvious, his voice low. “Should I return the favor?”  

Zhou Anran’s brain was foggy, her tongue numb. It took her a few seconds to respond. “Return what? The candy wrapper flowers? No need.”  

“Then—” Chen Luobai squeezed her palm, hinting at something. “What about that time at the hotel?”  

Zhou Anran froze again, realizing what he meant. Her already flushed face felt like it was burning up.  

Chen Luobai let go of her hand, his fingers drifting lower. “Baby, can I touch here?”  

Zhou Anran’s fingers instinctively gripped the fabric of his T-shirt.  

Chen Luobai’s gaze seemed to hook into her. “Not saying anything means you’re okay with it, right?”  

Her face and heart burned under his stare. She ducked her head, burying it in his shoulder, not saying utter a word of refusal, a silent consent. Yet when that unfamiliar sensation hit, her grip on his shirt tightened, and she couldn’t help but call out his name.  

“Chen Luobai.”  

The girl in his arms stiffened, her voice trembling. Chen Luobai paused, leaned in to kiss her forehead, and softened his voice to soothe her.  

“Don’t be scared.”  

“It’s okay if you’re not ready.”  

  

Zhou Anran kept her face buried in his shoulder. She wanted to say she wasn’t scared, just nervous, but she was too shy to admit it. He didn’t give her the chance anyway.  

The unfamiliar sensation faded as he pulled back. Zhou Anran glanced up and saw him wiping his hand with a tissue. She immediately buried her face back in his neck again.  

The playlist must have ended, as the music from her phone had stopped.  

The room was filled only with their uneven breathing.  

After what felt like forever, Chen Luobai spoke again. “It’s almost midnight. Wanna count down with me?”  

Zhou Anran let out a soft “mm” and, after a pause, added, “It’s our first New Year’s together.”  

Chen Luobai tilted his head and kissed her lightly, his voice just as soft. “There’ll be countless more.”  

---

  

A few days after New Year’s, classes officially ended.  

With finals season in full swing, the library was packed, and Zhou Anran didn’t bother fighting for a seat. Instead, she spent most of her time studying at Chen Luobai’s apartment.

Though they were alone in a private space, both had plans to pursue graduate studies, whether abroad or domestically, so finals were crucial. They didn’t mess around too much. Most of the time, Chen Luobai only pulled her into his arms for a kiss after they’d finished studying or wrapped up early.    

Those moments usually happened after ten at night.  

Unfortunately, Zhou Anran’s parents, worried about interrupting her studies, often chose that exact time to call.

One day, when He Jiayi called, Chen Luobai was in the middle of kissing her.  

Zhou Anran, with his hand on the back of her neck, couldn’t turn around and fumbled blindly for her phone but couldn’t find it.  

Chen Luobai tilted his head slightly, glanced at the phone, then looked back at her, his voice low and close to her lips. “If it’s not important, just ignore it.”  

Zhou Anran, breathless, asked, “Who’s calling?”  

Chen Luobai kept kissing her, answering offhandedly, “Some ‘Ms. He.’ A telemarketer you saved in your contacts?”  

Zhou Anran’s face flared up. She pushed at him. “No, that’s my mom.”  

Chen Luobai: “…”  

He froze, let her go, and cleared his throat. “You’d better take that call.”  

Zhou Anran reached for her phone.  

Just as she was about to answer, he grabbed her wrist. “Hold on.”  

Zhou Anran blinked. “What’s wrong?”  

“Catch your breath first,” Chen Luobai said.  

“Catch what?” she asked, confused.  

He glanced at her chest, rising and falling heavily, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Can’t you hear how hard you’re breathing?”    

Zhou Anran: “…”  

A moment later, she straightened her clothes, face still red, and lay back on the couch to answer He Jiayi’s call.  

He Jiayi’s voice came through. “Ranran, have you set a date to come home? Got your plane ticket?”  

Zhou Anran gave a ‘hm’, “Yeah, I booked one for the afternoon of the 25th.”  

  

He Jiayi sounded puzzled. “Didn’t you finish exams on the 23rd? Why the 25th?”  

Zhou Anran’s face grew hotter. “Qianqian doesn’t finish until the 24th. Xiaowen and I are waiting for her so we can fly to Nancheng together.”  

“Alright,” He Jiayi said. “It’s safer with the three of you together. Your dad and I will pick you up at Nancheng airport on the 25th. We can drop Qianqian off too.”  

Zhou Anran couldn’t refuse. “Okay.”  

Knowing her study load was heavy, He Jiayi didn’t want to keep her long. After a bit of small talk, she hung up.  

Zhou Anran set her phone aside, its screen already dark. When she looked up, she saw the boy lounging on the couch, giving her a half-smile.  

“Didn’t you say you were staying until the 25th to wait for me? How’d it turn into waiting for Yan Xingxi?”  

  

Zhou Anran: “…”  

She set her phone down and tugged at his hand. “I’m waiting for both of you.”  

Chen Luobai couldn’t resist her little acts of affection. He grabbed her hand, pulled her back into his arms, and picked up where they’d left off.  

Casually, he asked, “Haven’t told your parents about us?”  

Zhou Anran shook her head. “No. Have you told yours?”  

“My dad doesn’t care much about my love life,” Chen Luobai said, pausing before adding with a grin. “My mom has known since high school.”  

Zhou Anran froze, her grip tightening on his wrist. “Since high school?”  

  

Chen Luobai kept smiling. “Yeah, why so surprised? She even asked when I’m bringing you to meet her.”  

Zhou Anran’s eyes widened. “Meet… meet her?”  

Seeing her panic, Chen Luobai kissed her forehead and chuckled. “Don’t stress. We’ll go when you’re ready, whenever you want.”  

Exams flew by quickly.  

Caught up in studying and the nerves of her first college finals, Zhou Anran hadn’t had time to think about much else. But once her last exam was over, it hit her: the winter break meant she and Chen Luobai would be apart for nearly two months.  

The realization left a small, hollow ache in her heart.  

And with it, a flicker of anxiety and fear.  

  

Her department finished exams on the 23rd. Yu Xinyue left early to go home, Xie Jingyi left on the morning of the 24th, and Bai Lingyun stayed behind but only to spend a couple more days with Xie Zihan, heading to a hotel with him that night.

The dorm was soon empty except for Zhou Anran.  

She didn’t stay long. Chen Luobai, worried about her being alone, picked her up with her luggage on the morning of the 24th and brought her to his apartment.  

That afternoon, he had to leave for his final exam.  

Alone in the spacious apartment, Zhou Anran’s unease crept back.  

She pulled out her phone and texted him: [Want me to pack your luggage?]  

Chen Luobai replied quickly.  

C: [No need, I’ll do it when I’m back]  

  

Zhou Anran: [I’m bored with nothing to do.]  

C: [Leave the clothes, I’ve got those at home. Just pack anything else you think I’d need. Feel free to poke around.]  

C: [Heading into the exam now.]  

C: [If I finish early, I’ll come back to keep you company.]  

Zhou Anran’s heart settled a bit, a small smile tugging at her lips. [No rush, focus on your exam.]  

C: [Yeah, if you don’t feel like doing anything, take a nap.]  

C: [I’m really going in now.]  

Zhou Anran: [Okay.]  

  

No more replies came; he must’ve entered the exam room.  

Zhou Anran set her phone aside.  

She’d been to his apartment plenty of times but rarely touched his things.  

She started with the top drawer of the bedside table, finding a few charging cables. Since he might need them tonight, she left them alone.  

Slowly, she went through drawers and cabinets, only halfway through packing his suitcase when Chen Luobai returned.  

Hearing his footsteps, Zhou Anran turned. The tall boy stood in the bedroom doorway, looking clean and handsome, still in his down jacket, clearly coming straight to see her.  

Zhou Anran tossed the item in her hand into the suitcase and got up to hug him.  

Chen Luobai, knowing how reserved she usually was, was caught off guard. He pulled her closer, voice low. “What’s up?”  

“Nothing,” Zhou Anran shook her head, then looked up. “You’re back so early. Did you turn in your paper ahead of time?”  

Chen Luobai hummed in confirmation.  

Zhou Anran hugged his waist through his jacket. “Why didn’t you double-check a few more times?”  

“No way around it,” Chen Luobai said, relaxing when he saw she seemed fine. “The exam was too easy. I finished, checked it, and still had time, so I came back to be with my girlfriend.”  

His cocky tone was just like the fifteen-sixteen-year-old him.  

Zhou Anran’s lips curved. “I only got to pack half your stuff.”  

  

Chen Luobai: “I’ll take off my jacket, and we’ll finish packing together. Then we can go out for dinner tonight?”  

Zhou Anran nodded. “Sounds good.”  

After packing, they went out to eat. On their way back, just a few steps after getting out of the taxi, it started to rain.  

The taxi had dropped them at the neighborhood entrance, and a convenience store was nearby.  

Chen Luobai, ignoring himself, pulled the hood of her puffer jacket over her head before putting on his own. He grabbed her hand, and they ran to the store.  

Zhou Anran followed, watching his tall figure.  

Despite the different seasons and clothes, she suddenly remembered their first meeting on the first day of high school.  

The boy in the white T-shirt, running farther away from her, seemed to overlap with the tall figure in the black puffer jacket now.  

Real yet dreamlike.  

  

The convenience store was close, so their clothes barely got wet before they reached the awning, but there was still a walk to the apartment.  

Chen Luobai turned, about to suggest buying an umbrella, when her soft arms wrapped around him.  

This was the second time she’d hugged him unprompted today.  

And this time, they were outside.  

“What’s wrong?” Chen Luobai slid his arm around her waist, voice softening. “Why so clingy today?”  

Zhou Anran didn’t answer, just softly called his name. “Chen Luobai.”  

He hummed back just as softly but couldn’t think of anything special about today that might explain her mood. “Don’t want to be apart from me?”  

Zhou Anran buried her face in his chest, avoiding his gaze and keeping him from seeing hers. Her voice was small, “I’m ready.”  

  

“Ready for what?” Chen Luobai blinked. “To meet my mom?”  

He lowered his eyes and noticed a wet patch on his jacket’s chest. The girl, usually sensitive to the cold, pressed her face against it, oblivious.  

Chen Luobai raised his hand, not forcing her to look up, but placed it between her cheek and the cold jacket, his palm warming her face.  

His hand was cooler than usual from being outside, but still much warmer than the damp fabric.  

Maybe it was his gentle gesture that gave her courage. Zhou Anran nuzzled his hand and continued softly, “No, I mean what you said the first time you brought me here, at the neighborhood entrance.”  

Chen Luobai’s breath hitched.  

His hand on her cheek twitched, but he held back, as if suppressing his racing thoughts.  

“I’ll give you one chance to back out.”  

  

Zhou Anran kept her face against his hand. “It still feels like a dream.”  

“A dream?” Chen Luobai paused.  

She hummed softly. “Being with you still feels like a dream.”  

Like if we’re apart, the dream might end.  

Chen Luobai’s arm around her waist tightened.    

“Feels like a dream, huh?”    

“Then don’t cry later.”  

From the convenience store back to the apartment, the moment they stepped inside, Zhou Anran found herself pressed against the door, just like that time at the hotel.  

And just like then, he didn’t bother turning on the light.

The umbrella they’d just bought, half-wet, was tossed to the floor along with their heavy puffer jackets, now useless indoors.  

Once in the bedroom, he turned on the light.  

Zhou Anran tried to stop him but failed.  

Sweat beaded on his forehead, his dark eyes darker and deeper than usual. He tore open something else they’d grabbed from the store, half-pinning her neck, not letting her look away.  

“Didn’t you say it feels like a dream? How can you not look at me?”  

Zhou Anran knew he had a mischievous streak.  

The shyer she got, the more he loved to tease her. Early on, he’d held back a bit, but the longer they were together, the more blatant it became.  

But she hadn’t expected him to be this mischievous tonight.  

  

After the initial gentle, drawn-out foreplay and the toughest moment passed, the ceiling light seemed to sway.

Zhou Anran nearly hit her head on the headboard, but he slipped a pillow under her just in time.

Sweat covered his forehead and neck, his ears red, still carrying a hint of boyish youthfulness, but now overwhelmed by raw, masculine energy.  

His arms braced beside her, veins popping, his movements laced with a playful edge.  

“Still feel like a dream?”  

Zhou Anran didn’t speak.  

Couldn’t speak.  

Chen Luobai suddenly laughed, his voice lower, almost hoarse, dangerously alluring yet still teasing.  

“Not talking, huh?”  

“Guess I went too easy on you.”  

  

Zhou Anran bit her lip and turned her head.  

The curtains were drawn tight, but they couldn’t block the sounds outside.  

The rain in Beicheng came fast and hard that night, louder and more urgent than before.  

Raindrops pounded the windows, splashing water and creating a chorus of noise.  

It didn’t stop until the early hours.  

Zhou Anran finally found some peace.  

The indoor heating was too warm; she was drenched in sweat, wanting a shower but too exhausted to move.  

  

Someone, apparently not done teasing her, leaned in again, warm and close, pretending to comfort her. His fingers brushed her eye, gentle as could be, but his words were infuriating.  

“You really cried?”  

“And I didn’t even go all out.”  

Zhou Anran refused to engage with this bad person. She yanked the blanket up, covering her face completely.  

Chen Luobai found her reaction adorable and was tempted to tease her more but held back, softening his voice to coax her.  

“Really ignoring me now?”  

No response came from under the blanket.  

“Zhou Anran.”  

“Ranran.”  

“Baby.”  

Zhou Anran couldn’t resist when he called her like that. She tugged the blanket down a bit.

Chen Luobai brushed aside her sweat-dampened hair sticking to her neck, his voice soft.  

“Still feel like a dream?”  

Zhou Anran: “…”  

Her face burned again.  

After tonight, she might never want to hear the word “dream” again.  

Chen Luobai guided her hand to his chest. “Feel that? Every time I see you, it races like this.”  

Zhou Anran’s hand pressed against his chest, feeling his heart pounding under her palm.  

Maybe it was the lingering intensity from earlier, or the way his heart raced under her palm, but she’d never felt so clearly—  

The unattainable light of her youth had truly belonged to her.  

  

Chen Luobai leaned down and kissed her again.  

Then Zhou Anran heard his low, gentle voice.  

“If it still feels like a dream, I’ll stay with you in it for a lifetime.” 

---

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