To Sweep Across Like Wildfire - Chapter 33

Chapter 33

Early the next morning, before it was light outside, Meng Chi woke up.

Shen Qingruo had wrapped herself in the duvet, leaving only a few long strands of hair visible. Worried she might suffocate, Meng Chi reached out to pull the covers down. Shen murmured incoherently and buried her face deeper into the blanket, her voice raspy: “Don’t… let me sleep a bit longer…”

She thought Meng Chi wanted to “do something” again.

Meng Chi’s ears warmed slightly. “I’m not doing anything. Don’t smother yourself.” She whispered, “I have classes later, so I’m heading back to school first.”

Shen Qingruo slowly revealed her face, but her eyes remained closed. She gave a drowsy “Mm,” seemingly acknowledging the message.

Seeing her so disoriented, Meng Chi hesitated before speaking up: “Do you remember what you promised me yesterday?”

“Hm…?”

Meng Chi spoke slowly: “Last night you said you had work today, but you’d message me when you were done to decide if we’re going to pick out sofa cushions tonight.”

“Mmm…” Shen Qingruo was still far from fully awake.

Her soul wasn’t even on Earth at the moment, so there was no way to communicate further. Meng Chi had no choice but to drop it.

Meng Chi walked into the living room and opened the fridge, finding only some alcohol and a few withered vegetable leaves. There was nothing in the snack cabinet suitable for breakfast either. After a moment’s thought, she went downstairs to buy sandwiches and warmed up some milk, placing them together on the dining table.

A while later, after packing her things, Meng Chi spoke one last time to the white bundle on the bed: “Breakfast is on the table. Eat something before you go back to sleep. I’m leaving now.”

The sound of the smart lock clicking shut echoed at the door, and the light footsteps faded into the hallway. The bedroom fell silent. The white bundle wriggled, and a fluffy head slowly emerged. Shen Qingruo rubbed her messy hair; she was so exhausted she could hardly keep her eyes open. It took a while before she could slowly crawl out of bed.

Young people nowadays are truly ferocious.

Shen Qingruo rubbed her aching lower back as she walked into the living room, where she saw the steaming breakfast. Her sleepiness dissipated, replaced by a momentary trance. She felt as if she were traveling through time, seeing a busy figure in the kitchen, hearing a familiar voice, and smelling the aroma of food filling the room.

“Mom, turn on the range hood, the smoke is getting out.” “I know! Go wake up Ruoruo, she’s going to be late for school.” “Hey, Shen Qingruo, you’re skipping breakfast again? Take the sandwich! Stop eating that junk outside…”

Shen Qingruo took a sharp breath, pulling herself away from the past. She washed up quickly, returned to the table, and took a small bite of the sandwich.

It was still very early and dark outside. The light inside wasn’t great either, but she didn’t bother turning on more lamps. She sat there alone, hunched over the stool, eating breakfast in the quiet, lonely room. In the blink of an eye, so many years had passed in solitude.

…

It was the final day of the field sketching trip, and the students were losing interest. As school let out in the afternoon, a boy in a white shirt kept glancing toward the back row.

An exceptionally beautiful girl sat there, though she was solemn and cold—not the easiest person to approach. He nudged his roommate in the black t-shirt and asked urgently, “Are you sure this high school ‘campus belle’ doesn’t have a boyfriend?”

“No, no, seriously no. How many times are you going to ask?” Black T-shirt sighed. “I checked around for ages. They say she’s single and just broke up with her ex not long ago. Apparently, the ex was an idiot and cheated.”

Since seeing her at the venue a few days ago, his roommate had been distracted, finally admitting two days ago that it was love at first sight.

Black T-shirt added: “Stop hesitating. If you’re going to talk to her, do it now. Everyone’s heading back to Beiyuan soon.”

Meng Chi didn’t know how many times she had checked her phone. At noon, Shen Qingruo said she was still busy and hadn’t messaged since. Just as she pulled her phone out again, the white-shirted boy stood beside her, face flushed. “You…”

Meng Chi glanced at her screen, saw an unread message from rr, and immediately looked back at the phone without lifting her head. “Sorry, let me reply to this first.”

rr: “Still busy, probably won’t have time tonight.”

Meng Chi’s eyes dimmed slightly. She typed slowly, word by word: It’s okay, do your work.

Knowing that work was important didn’t stop the slight feeling of disappointment. She deleted the text and just typed: Mm.

That “Mm” looked too cold. She hesitated, then deleted that too.

rr messaged again: “Are you free tomorrow morning?”

“Yes,” Meng Chi replied instantly.

Was that too fast? Did I seem too eager? she wondered after hitting send.

“Tomorrow at 10:00 AM, meet at Entrance A1 of Wuzhou Plaza, how about it?”

“Okay, see you tomorrow. Go back to work.” The gloom in Meng Chi’s eyes vanished, replaced by a hint of joy on her brow.

The boy in the white shirt saw all of this. In the past few days, he hadn’t seen such a range of subtle expressions on her face—from disappointment to delight. He realized the truth instantly and wanted to go back and throttle his roommate. Who started the rumor that she was single? She was clearly chatting with someone she liked.

“Was there something you needed?” Meng Chi looked up, her expression returning to its usual cool, polite mask.

“Nothing… sorry to bother you…” The boy left in tears. He hadn’t expected his crush to die so quickly.

…

The next morning, Wuzhou Plaza.

As soon as Shen Qingruo reached Entrance A1, she saw Meng Chi and walked over. “Have you been waiting long?”

“No, I just got here.” Meng Chi lit up her screen and pointed to the navigation. “There’s a furniture mall 200 meters ahead. Should we check there first?”

Shen Qingruo turned off the screen with a laugh. “Put that away. You really thought we came here to pick out sofa cushions?” She said, “I remember there’s a popular fruit tea shop upstairs. Let’s go try it.”

The “influencer economy” was booming, and “viral” products were everywhere. Meng Chi’s roommates loved checking into these places, but she usually lacked interest. As a child, she looked forward to family outings because they were so rare, even if it was just playing in a sandbox at a nearby park. As she grew older, her family grew busier, and she buried her desire for fun into her studies. Understanding a concept or getting a perfect score seemed more important than playing.

Viral products were hit-or-miss, and they always required long lines. Despite it being a workday, the mall was crowded. After taking a number, they waited twenty minutes for their tea.

Outside the shop were some off-white plastic stools. Shen Qingruo leaned back comfortably, picking out a strawberry with a spoon and nibbling on it with a look of pure contentment. It was as if she weren’t in a busy mall but lying on a beach in Hawaii.

Meng Chi ate her strawberries slowly and suddenly felt they tasted wonderful—different from usual. Do strawberries just taste better in disposable plastic cups?

They wandered through the mall for a bit. Shen Qingruo pointed to a cinema banner hanging from the top floor. “Want to see a movie?”

There weren’t many new releases or high-rated films, so they picked a suspense thriller that had premiered the day before. There were only a few people in the theater.

The movie started with some suggestive scenes, making Meng Chi wonder if they’d walked into the wrong room. She felt awkward, but fortunately, it was dark enough to hide her expression. When Song Yuanzhe had invited her to movies in the past, she had only gone once. It was a romance with plenty of intimacy, but Meng Chi had remained unmoved, even thinking about what she needed to review for her exams that night.

With this movie, however, despite the green acting and choppy editing, Meng Chi’s face felt hot.

Shen Qingruo wore her 3D glasses, one hand holding a popcorn bucket and the other slowly picking at the kernels. She occasionally took a sip of Coke, looking entirely relaxed. Both hands were occupied.

Meng Chi’s hand drifted over but couldn’t find an opening to hold hers.

Eventually, Shen Qingruo noticed something was off. Meng Chi was shifting her posture every few minutes, and her eyes weren’t always on the screen. Shen quickly identified the problem. No wonder the reviews were bad—the plot was fragmented and the scenes were intentionally startling. The speakers were blasting a loud BGM that reminded her of school-wide morning exercises.

Many scenes were clearly designed to jump-scare the audience. It was a bit effective, especially for someone who didn’t watch many thrillers.

Shen Qingruo wiped her hand with a wet wipe, gently took Meng Chi’s hand, and whispered, “Don’t be afraid. It’s all fake.”

“Mm…”

Seeing Meng Chi calm down, Shen tried to pull her hand away. Halfway through, she heard Meng Chi whisper: “This part is a bit scary.”

Meng Chi lowered her eyes, appearing as if she didn’t dare look at the screen.

Shen Qingruo glanced at the screen. Really? Two side characters chatting is scary?

Despite the thought, she squeezed Meng Chi’s hand gently. “Kid, how can you be so cowardly?”