Unbearable - Chapter 23
Chapter 23: “Or… You Don’t Want To Sleep With Me”
After the massage, her sore muscles did feel much better, and the awkwardness between them had almost worn off during the process.
But on the way to school afterwards, she still didn’t dare look Yu Wei directly in the eye.
She didn’t turn around even once the entire morning.
Cheng Miao, after receiving the photo Yu Wei had sent, turned around, cupped her face, and cooed with excitement while messing up her hair.
Yu Wei kept her face buried in her book, stone-faced.
The whole morning passed like that. At noon, when school ended, Zhong Ling waved a leave slip while standing on a chair and shouted, “Good news, good news! All our class’s performances have passed the review!”
A few half-hearted cheers came from the crowd as everyone squeezed toward the exit—what good news? Food was clearly the priority.
“The second piece of good news is that all students who signed up for performances will go with me at noon to pick out costumes. The leave slips are already approved.”
Cheng Miao lived nearby and didn’t need a leave slip, but she still howled in excitement and then asked, “What costumes?”
“Obviously something classy, elegant, and stage-worthy!” As the arts committee member newly entrusted with responsibility, Zhong Ling was excited and confidently took charge. “I’ll cover the cost!”
Cheng Miao pounded her desk with both hands and turned to Yu Wei, “Let’s go!”
Yu Wei: “……”
Yu Wei glanced toward Yu Wei.
“Xiaoyu doesn’t need to rent a costume. Skating performances have strict outfit requirements,” Cheng Miao raised her eyebrows exaggeratedly. “Why are you looking at her?”
Yu Wei looked over too.
Yu Wei: “……”
She lowered her head, took off her glasses, wiped them, and put them back on. “Just checking if everyone’s left. You guys go ahead.”
Knowing she didn’t like crowded places or having to change clothes, Cheng Miao had only teased her. She turned and patted the desk in front of her, then joined Zhong Ling with a few others.
Once the crowd had gone, Yu Wei stood up to head downstairs. Yu Wei walked past her from behind, got ahead, then looked back at her.
The two walked one in front of the other to pick up their lunch.
Unlike before, only one lunchbox was wrapped in decorative paper. The assistant delivering the food handed another bag to Yu Wei. “Director Ding’s instructions—steamed dumplings and drunk crab from Hua Man Lou.”
Yu Wei froze for a second before accepting it.
The warmth from the box radiated through the canvas bag. Yu Wei glanced down at it, then sneaked a look at the person beside her and pressed her lips together.
Suddenly, her phone rang in her pocket.
In the middle of the noise and silence, she turned her head to answer the call.
The assistant left. Yu Wei stayed still, her eyes fixed on Yu Wei.
After the call, Yu Wei looked back at her.
“Something wrong?” Yu Wei averted her gaze like she’d just noticed her.
Yu Wei held up her phone, “My package arrived.”
To keep delivery drivers out of the campus, the school had installed a row of lockers along the outer wall. Both carrying lunchboxes, Yu Wei carefully checked the lockers by number, one by one.
She was thorough and slow.
Eventually, she found it and pulled out a small box, which she handed to Yu Wei.
Yu Wei didn’t take it. She just stared at her expressionlessly.
“I bought a media player for Grandma. There’s a memory card inside.” She pursed her lips, and seeing Yu Wei’s face go cold, her voice dropped even lower. “…Could you help me download some opera videos and give it to her?”
Yu Wei lowered her gaze, glanced at it—or maybe didn’t—then still didn’t take it.
The trees on campus didn’t shade the delivery lockers. The burning sun above felt like fire raining down, scorching the skin.
“You give it to her.”
Yu Wei finally spoke, her voice cold and hard. She turned and walked away.
Yu Wei stood still, lips pressed together.
She’d been eating Yu Wei’s meals for a couple of days because of her diet food—not too often, not too little. But now that the meals had changed, it was a good time to stop.
Yu Wei clenched her grip on the bag.
Yu Wei had already reached the sidewalk. In the middle of traffic and pedestrians, she suddenly stopped and looked back. “Aren’t you coming?”
The sun was so bright it hurt to open her eyes, forcing them to squint.
Yu Wei licked her dry lips from inside her collar. Before she could refuse, she took a step in Yu Wei’s direction.
Grandma said she’d make sour plum soup.
Just today. One last time.
Yu Wei caught up.
“Why are you still bringing food?” Grandma had already wrinkled her nose at the vegetable-filled lunchbox yesterday. Seeing the same box again today, she was even more displeased.
Yu Wei responded softly and carried the box inside.
“Grandma,” Yu Wei greeted as she came in behind.
“Aye, come in, come in.” Grandma smiled warmly. “I made traditional sour plum soup—so good! But alas, someone doesn’t get to enjoy it.”
The “someone” who didn’t have the blessing to enjoy it—Yu Wei—went to her room to turn on the AC, took off her jacket, and came out holding the food container.
She opened the box on the small courtyard table, revealing the dishes inside.
Although she grumbled, Grandma looked at Yu Wei with deep affection in her eyes.
“Grandma, try this,” Yu Wei opened the bag, pulled out another lunchbox, and lifted the lid.
“Why are you bringing food even when you come to my place?” Grandma’s expression turned serious, and she sat down with a huff.
Yu Wei froze awkwardly. “It’s not…”
“Just something from the street,” Yu Wei interrupted her, putting chopsticks down on the table in front of Grandma. “Try it.”
“You think I’m a fool?” Grandma gave her a sharp look, then turned her gaze to Yu Wei, who sat nervously nearby. “I’m not blaming you. But these big crabs must’ve cost a fortune. I’m just an old lady living here alone. If you two come visit and talk with me, I’m already happy. No need to buy such fancy food.”
Yu Wei wasn’t used to dealing with elders and didn’t know how to respond. She hesitantly shook her head.
“It was on sale. Just this once.” Yu Wei nudged the lunchbox toward her. “You won’t even try a treat? You can have mine instead.”
“Who wants yours?” Grandma pouted, then held Yu Wei’s hand. “Next time, don’t bring anything. If you do, I won’t let you in.”
Yu Wei nodded quickly and pulled out the box from behind her. “But this one doesn’t count—it’s not for next time.”
“A radio for listening to opera,” Yu Wei cut in before she could finish.
Grandma shot her a look. “Just this once.”
Yu Wei sighed in relief. She lowered her head to crack open a crab. Her right hand was weak, and after only two snips, the whole box was pulled away by Yu Wei, who flipped her palm and motioned with her hand for the scissors.
The bronze-colored scissors became unusually obedient in Yu Wei’s hands. In no time, she’d neatly cleaned the crab and packed the tender meat into a small container.
Yu Wei watched enviously. Yu Wei always made everything look so easy—like there was nothing she couldn’t do.
Grandma went to the kitchen to get the sour plum soup.
Yu Wei was just about to place the crab meat in front of her when Yu Wei stopped her. “Don’t put it there. She won’t eat it.”
Yu Wei’s hand paused midair. She placed it in the middle of the table and turned her head to look at her.
Her eyes sparkled, filled with cautious hope.
Yu Wei made a soft hum and lowered her head to eat.
It was the first time she ate from the meal box—not exactly thrilled, but at least not disgusted.
Yu Wei, thinking about this, took out her phone and snapped a picture.
“What are you doing?” Yu Wei turned to her, eyes staring directly.
Yu Wei’s hand trembled, but she pressed the shutter again and took several shots. “Just… taking a picture.”
Yu Wei looked at her.
Yu Wei bit her lip. “You look good.”
Her voice softened, almost coquettish.
Yu Wei turned her head away and stuffed a mouthful of bitter greens, chewing slowly and swallowing.
Since she didn’t object, Yu Wei jumped up and ran to the kitchen to help.
After lunch, they drank chilled sour plum soup—sweet and tangy, very refreshing.
Yu Wei couldn’t eat sweets or sour food. She had boiled water with a few osmanthus petals floating on top.
Yu Wei held her bowl and looked down at the photo gallery. The first photo was of Yu Wei looking directly into the camera—deep and beautiful eyes, so focused it felt like she could pierce through the screen.
She browsed through them and chose the one of her eating with her head down. She blurred the background and posted it to her Moments, setting privacy so only Ding Qing and Yu Jingcheng could see it.
But those two probably never checked their Moments anyway.
Yu Wei put her phone down.
Yu Wei was downloading opera shows for Grandma. The two of them sat together, looking at the phone screen. Grandma pointed at names, talking about who sang well in their youth and which ones she had seen live at the theater.
Yu Wei also logged into her commission app. Notifications had exploded. She cleared the red dots, filtered through orders, and accepted a batch.
The last one had a lot of specific requests but offered the highest price.
Blue Rag: “Madam, commission? Something like this.”
Blue Rag: [Image]
Blue Rag: “That kind of dripping, textured, got-it-wet look—you get me. I loved the way you drew that hand. Not gonna lie, I’m hand-obsessed.”
Blue Rag: “But I want something more muscular, more dominant, like he just grabbed a handful of water.”
Yu Wei stared at the messages for a long time, her face heating up like it was on fire.
Cat Eats Fish: “Let me sketch a draft first, then you decide.”
Blue Rag: “You don’t want a deposit”
Yu Wei bit her lip. She’d never drawn… that kind of picture before. She had to try first. But unexpectedly, the client was super straightforward and paid 10% upfront right away.
Blue Rag: “No rush. I just know you’ve got it. You really get it.”
She had studied many types of art for the sake of drawing, but she didn’t “get it.”
“Hot?” Yu Wei suddenly asked.
Yu Wei snapped out of it and touched her cheek. “It’s okay.”
It was a bit hot and stuffy. It hadn’t rained in a while, and the sun-scorched air felt suffocating.
“Go to your room.” Yu Wei took out the memory card and slotted it into the player. “The AC’s on. Go sleep a bit.”
Grandma chimed in, “Don’t get heatstroke.”
It wasn’t that serious, but Yu Wei still got up and went to the room.
The hydrangeas on the desk were still blooming. She stood by the table and, imitating Yu Wei’s earlier action, gently squeezed a petal. It was delicate, cool, and springy against her palm.
She squeezed it again.
“Not sleeping?”
Yu Wei walked in, closing the door behind her.
“Done downloading?” Yu Wei pulled her hand back and looked at her.
Yu Wei nodded and pulled out a chair.
Now that she was closer, the faint osmanthus scent on her body drifted over.
“Are you going to sleep?” Yu Wei bit her lip. “If you’re not sleeping, I won’t either.”
A hint of childish defiance in her voice. As soon as the words left her mouth, they both froze.
Yu Wei bit her lip harder, leaving a red mark.
She hadn’t slept last night, just dozed off a bit at dawn. She was exhausted. She’d had to stand through the morning classes, her legs aching.
But that sleepless night also let her see how little sleep Yu Wei got. After afternoon classes, she trained, did homework, trained again, and after a short rest, went to the rink. She got back home with less than four hours to sleep before getting up to run.
How could she keep it up?
“Or… you don’t want to sleep with me.” Yu Wei’s voice got softer and softer until it faded. She twisted her fingers in embarrassment.
Yu Wei looked down at her, throat bobbing slightly, and said in a low voice, “The bed’s really small.”
Realizing she hadn’t misunderstood, Yu Wei quickly said, “We can squeeze. I’m really skinny. I won’t take up much space.”
After a long silence, Yu Wei looked at her and nodded. “You sleep on the inside.”
Yu Wei lay down on the inner side of the bed, close to the wall, blinking as she looked at her.
A face full of cautious anticipation.
What was there to be so eager about?
Yu Wei frowned and awkwardly lay down without taking off her clothes.
The narrow bed somehow still had a half-person wide gap between them.
Breathing shallowly, Yu Wei closed her eyes. Sleep overtook her quickly, but before she was fully out, she murmured, “My parents show love by giving money. The Yu family’s rich. You can spend freely.”
Yu Wei didn’t comment. After a long while, she asked, “Is that how they treat you?”
No response. The breathing beside her grew steady and quiet.
Yu Wei turned her head to look at her.
Long curled lashes hung low. Her small face no longer wore the usual cautious anticipation. Even in sleep, her breathing stayed shallow.
A child who hadn’t been loved or cared for by her parents—always careful, always sensitive and timid.
She hated being watched, yet still worked up the courage to invite her to perform together.
Yu Wei looked up at the yellowed ceiling.
Suddenly, her shoulder felt warm.
She turned her head slightly and saw Yu Wei had curled up, her forehead resting against her shoulder, that featherlight breath rising and falling on her arm.