Unbearable - Chapter 40

Chapter 40: The Sound Caught in Yue Wei’s Dry, Tight Throat

 

Yu Wei had just turned in her exam. She picked up her backpack from the front desk, kept her head down as she walked over, looped around the invigilator, and pulled the waiting Yue Wei out the door.

 

“Why did you come out early?”

 

“Finished early.”

 

Yue Wei glanced down at her. The fingers resting on the back of her hand were cold. Her own fingers twitched slightly, and just as she was about to turn her hand over to hold hers, Yu Wei pulled away.

 

Yu Wei pressed a hand against her lower abdomen from inside her pocket and awkwardly turned to glance behind her, tugging at her jacket.

 

Yue Wei stood by, watching her series of movements and the pale color of her lips. “Are you… not feeling well?”

 

“No.” Yu Wei, not finding anything concerning, let out a breath and adjusted her glasses. “I want to use the restroom.”

 

She looked up at Yue Wei. “Are you coming?”

 

Close female classmates often went to the restroom together after class. Sometimes even Cheng Miao would ask her to join. But Yu Wei had always been used to doing things alone, and wasn’t particularly comfortable being accompanied.

 

Still, considering her current relationship with Yue Wei, it was only polite to ask.

 

Yue Wei let out a dry cough and cleared her throat, her eyes darting quickly across Yu Wei’s face. She gave a soft “mm.”

 

The restroom was at the end of the hallway. The classrooms nearby were still in the middle of exams. In the quiet, the sound of their footsteps gradually overlapped.

 

Yue Wei stopped outside the restroom. “I’ll wait here.”

 

Yu Wei gave a soft “oh,” not finding anything strange about it, and quickly pushed open the door and went in.

 

Yue Wei stepped away, walking across to the wall opposite, then moved aside a little, lowering her gaze to avoid looking directly, the tips of her ears turning red.

 

A few minutes later, Yu Wei came out. The two walked side by side back.

 

“Back to the classroom or library?” Yu Wei looked down at the steps as she spoke. “There’s still an hour until the next exam. Let’s go to the library.”

 

The first exam room was full of Class A students, most of whom had finished early and left. As usual, they would return to the classroom to prepare for the next test, rest, goof off, or chat loudly — which would disturb Yue Wei.

 

At this hour, the library should be quiet.

 

Yue Wei turned to her. “Let’s go somewhere else.”

 

That “somewhere else” was the elm grove. They crossed a small arched bridge outside the building, passed through a stretch of lawn, and arrived at the edge of the dense elms.

 

A patchwork of deep and light green shimmered under the sunlight.

 

Tree branches interwove overhead, and dappled light and shadows fell on a long bench below.

 

The yellow bench bathed in sunlight was warm to the touch.

 

Yu Wei set down her backpack and sat. The thick shade from the tree just barely covered her face, while the rest of her school uniformed body lay in the sun, basking in its warmth.

 

She almost let out a sigh of contentment.

 

“Sit down.”

 

Yu Wei looked up at Yue Wei, who was still standing beside her. Most of her face peeked out from her collar, finally showing a bit of color.

 

Yue Wei felt reassured. “Wait here for me. I’ll be back soon.”

 

Yu Wei blinked, then nodded. “If you’ve got something to do, go ahead. Don’t worry about me.”

 

She lowered her head to take a book out of her bag and placed another backpack beside her.

 

As she looked up, she saw Yue Wei sprinting off into the sunlight. She ran fast, almost flying. The sunlight danced in her hair.

 

Yu Wei’s movements slowed. She didn’t open the book. Instead, she hugged the backpack to her chest and leaned forward slightly, hunching a little. Leaves and light weaved together above her ear, gently swaying.

 

The sunlight chased away the chill in her body, easing even the dull ache in her abdomen.

 

Spring fatigue. Autumn sluggishness. Everything around her was quiet, and Yu Wei started to feel drowsy from the warmth.

 

Yue Wei was just returning across the bridge when she spotted her curled up on the bench from afar and was immediately struck with panic. Her hand loosened and she broke into a run.

 

Yu Wei lay on her side, curled up on the narrow bench, hugging both backpacks. The oversized school uniform covered her, but not completely — just her chin peeked out.

 

Her breathing was steady. Light filtered through the leaves, dancing across her peaceful face.

 

Just sleeping.

 

Yue Wei let out a breath of relief and was about to straighten up when a leaf drifted down in front of her. Before she could react, it landed on Yu Wei’s eyelid.

 

It was a small, dark green oval-shaped leaf. The slender tip covered the corner of her eye, casting a fine shadow.

 

Yue Wei frowned and leaned in.

 

Yu Wei’s eyelashes fluttered slightly under the saw-toothed shadow, then stilled.

 

Yue Wei froze in place, bent over, gazing down at her. Sweat from the run clung to her brow. Her heavy, hot breaths sank into her chest as she held her breath and traced her with her eyes.

 

“You’re back.”

 

Yu Wei suddenly spoke, her voice soft and sweet.

 

Yue Wei stiffened slightly, realizing just how close she’d gotten without noticing. She hummed in acknowledgment but didn’t move.

 

Yu Wei’s lashes fluttered again. She didn’t open her eyes, just turned her face slightly and propped herself up on one hand to sit. The leaf that had been covering the corner of her eye now fell fully over her eye.

 

“There’s a leaf on your face,” Yue Wei said, her voice tight.

 

She reached out to pinch the slender stem.

 

Just as the leaf was lifted slightly, sunlight poured in, stinging Yu Wei’s closed eye through the thin skin of her eyelid.

 

“Don’t.”

 

Her voice, just woken, was soft and dragging, the tail end of it curling unconsciously.

 

Yu Wei raised her hand to block the light, but before she could, a shadow fell over her face again, filtering the sunlight.

 

She squinted, about to open her eyes, when the leaf on her left eye was gently brushed aside. Its serrated edge grazed her brow, and something warm pressed lightly over her eyelid.

 

Yu Wei froze, not daring to move. With her eyes shut, she couldn’t see anything — only feel that faint, uncertain touch.

 

Her head tilted back slightly, exposing a sliver of pale neck.

 

“All done.”

 

Yue Wei’s fingers held the leaf, now swaying gently in the breeze. She looked away, picked up the book Yu Wei had dropped, and tucked the leaf between its pages.

 

As she pulled her hand away, light rushed back. Although Yu Wei had adjusted to it a bit, she still instinctively ducked her head and squinted, eyes heavy-lidded, pushing herself up.

 

“What time is it?” Yu Wei asked.

 

Sitting up now, her face was shaded by the tree. She slowly opened her eyes.

 

Yue Wei picked up her fallen glasses, wiped them clean, and handed them over.

 

Their fingertips brushed.

 

“Should be about ten minutes left,” Yue Wei said calmly.

 

Yu Wei took the glasses and put them on. Only then did she notice the sweat clinging to Yue Wei’s hairline, dampening her hair and neck.

 

She pressed her lips together and didn’t ask further.

 

She stood up and slung her bag over her shoulder. While Yue Wei turned to lead the way, Yu Wei quickly reached behind and patted her back — dry.

 

She let out a small breath of relief.

 

Her gaze swept across the bench. Empty — not a single stray item in sight.

 

Yue Wei heard her make a puzzled sound and turned. “What is it?”

 

“The leaf?” Yu Wei looked around again — nothing near the bench.

 

Yue Wei’s grip on her bag strap suddenly tightened. “I threw it out.”

 

Yu Wei gave a soft “oh.”

 

Yue Wei glanced at her sidelong. Seeing that she didn’t care much, she let out a quiet sigh of relief.

 

“Then where did you go just now?” Yu Wei asked, then added, “You’re sweating all over.”

 

Only then did Yue Wei remember the thermos glittering in the distance on the lawn. A few passing students were even looking over curiously.

 

“I sweat easily,” Yue Wei said stiffly.

 

That was true. Yu Wei knew she always sweated a lot after exercise. After a run, half her clothes would be soaked.

 

But that wasn’t what she meant.

 

Yu Wei followed her gaze and, seeing that Yue Wei clearly didn’t intend to explain, pressed her lips together.

 

As they crossed the lawn, Yu Wei’s eyes widened. The sunlight glinted off something. She squinted, surprised. “Is that a…”

 

“Thermos.”

 

Yue Wei replied blandly and strode over to pick it up from the grass, brushing off the leaves stuck to it.

 

Yu Wei stared, stunned. It was the same thermos that had once held chilled sour plum soup for her.

 

“It’s yours?”

 

Yue Wei’s temple twitched. “Yeah.”

 

“What’s it doing here?”

 

Yu Wei was confused. She’d only taken a nap, then opened her eyes and Yue Wei had been there.

 

Yue Wei slung her bag over one shoulder and held the thermos in the other hand, unfazed. “Dropped it.”

 

Yu Wei glanced at the large thermos, then back at Yue Wei’s calm expression.

 

That’s… a pretty big thing to drop.

 

She didn’t press further, very considerate — though all her little side glances didn’t escape Yue Wei’s notice.

 

The little person in Yue Wei’s heart fainted dramatically. If Yu Wei ever found out she’d run over in a panic out of worry, she’d never be able to show her face again.

 

They returned to the exam room. Yue Wei walked her to the door and then handed her the thermos.

 

Yu Wei blinked, surprised. “For me?”

 

Yue Wei nodded. “Brown sugar ginger tea. There’s a straw inside, and it’s the perfect temperature.”

 

She had boiled it at home, then cooled it with a fan before pouring it into the thermos. She couldn’t drink it herself, so she had her grandma taste it. Her grandma said it was just right.

 

Her grandma always preferred hot water.

 

Yue Wei paused, her tone less certain. “Or maybe it’s still a bit hot. Try it first.”

 

Yu Wei didn’t move.

 

Yue Wei gently shook the thermos in her hand. More students were arriving, all from Class A. One called out from afar.

 

“Whoa, delivering drinks to your girlfriend?”

 

Zhong Ling peeked between them. “Ohhh, sour plum soup! Who’s the sour one now? I’m crying sour tears!”

 

“It’s not,” Yu Wei said softly, reaching to take it.

 

The metal handle still held the warmth of Yue Wei’s grip, spreading quietly across her palm.

 

Yu Wei’s fingers tightened slightly. “It’s ginger tea.”

 

In this season, people only drank ginger tea for one reason.

 

Zhong Ling patted her bag and leaned in. “If it hurts a lot, I’ve got painkillers. Take them early — they work better.”

 

That dull ache in her lower abdomen felt like it had faded now.

 

Yu Wei shook her head. Zhong Ling tossed her hair. “Don’t worry. After the exam, I’ll keep those crazy answer-checkers away from you.”

 

Yu Wei smiled and sincerely thanked her.

 

After everyone else left, she turned to Yue Wei. The words of thanks caught in her throat.

 

Her body felt full — so full she could burst — but when she opened her mouth, no sound came out.

 

She had nothing of equal value to give back.

 

Not even the words for it.

 

“What’s wrong?” Yue Wei looked at her in surprise, noticing the redness and mist in her eyes. Behind her glasses, her gaze was hazy and hurriedly turned away.

 

Her long lashes drooped, shadowing her eyes.

 

“You don’t like ginger tea?” Yue Wei panicked and awkwardly reached out to wipe her tears. “If you don’t like it, don’t drink it.”

 

Yu Wei swallowed her emotions, leaned her forehead against Yue Wei’s shoulder, and murmured softly, “Jie…”

 

Her voice was quiet and low, shy and intimate.

 

“…Mn.”

 

The reply got stuck in Yue Wei’s dry, tightened throat — half of it swallowed, the other half escaping.