When the Heartthrob Meets the Cold-Hearted Ex - Chapter 11

Tang Yeran pulled up a chair behind the sofa, leaving just the width of a cushion between them.

Su Yang felt the tension on her scalp ease as the hair tie was removed, her long black tresses cascading down without any noticeable weight.

With one hand holding the hairdryer and the other gathering the ends of her hair to keep them from falling onto her clothes, Tang Yeran moved the dryer from the roots to the tips, speaking casually, “You’re too slow doing it yourself. Guess I’ll play the good Samaritan one more time.”

“Mm.” Su Yang rested both hands on her knees, sitting as obediently as a first-grader on their first day of school.

The hairdryer continued its steady hum, yet somehow, it didn’t feel as noisy as before.

The scent of shampoo wafted through the air, adding to the drowsy haze that enveloped them both.

Su Yang had always been blessed with naturally beautiful hair jet-black, glossy, and silky. Even after her earlier rough handling, not a single tangle remained.

Tang Yeran, whose own hair was a natural light brown, had always envied that pure, deep black. In the past, she couldn’t resist running her fingers through it whenever she had the chance.

Back in Su Yang’s freshman year, her hair hadn’t been this long, so she rarely used a hairdryer just a quick towel-dry would suffice.

But ever since meeting Tang Yeran, those black locks had never been cut short again.

Usually tied up in a bun, they now cascaded freely, soft as satin.

Tang Yeran had intended to finish quickly, but the moment her fingers touched that long-missed silkiness, she faltered.

The dryer lingered too long in one spot, the heat nearly scalding a patch of scalp.

Su Yang endured it for a dozen seconds before finally asking, “What’s wrong?”

“Huh?” Snapping out of her daze, Tang Yeran quickly covered, “Oh, I just spotted a white hair.”

She paused the dryer and, to prove her point, plucked a strand from the crown of Su Yang’s head.

“See? Pretty white, huh?”

Su Yang took the offered “white hair” and examined it closely. True enough, the root had a faint white tint, though the pale section only made up about a fifth of its length.

Holding it between her fingers, she turned and fixed Tang Yeran with a pointed look. “Your eyesight is impressive.”

Regaining her composure in seconds, Tang Yeran replied breezily, “No need to thank me.”

She expected Su Yang to turn back around so she could resume her task, but instead, the other woman kept staring at her, clearly unwilling to cooperate.

Feeling unusually patient and perhaps a little guilty, Tang Yeran offered consolation.

“Don’t take it too hard. At your age, a few white hairs are normal. Just use some black hair dye.”

Su Yang, now referred to as “your age,” couldn’t help but point out, “We were born in the same year.”

“Oh~” Catching Su Yang’s irritation, Tang Yeran felt a surge of satisfaction and teased, “Well, I don’t have any white hairs yet. Maybe it’s because I’m a few months younger.”

When it came to banter, Su Yang rarely came out on top.

Tang Yeran had no qualms about teasing the patient, expecting her to swallow the slight as usual.

But this time, Su Yang suddenly knelt up on the sofa, her cool, delicate face abruptly closing the distance. “Are you sure? Maybe you just haven’t noticed yours yet. Should I check for you?”

Tang Yeran, still dazed by the close-up beauty assault, felt slender fingers comb through her hair as Su Yang searched for “white strands.”

Cool, faint breaths brushed against her neck. For once, Tang Yeran didn’t immediately push her away. Maybe it was competitive pride, but she leaned further against the sofa back, making it easier for Su Yang.

Su Yang’s fingers were delicate, gliding gently through her hair so soothing it felt like a massage. Tang Yeran yawned, eyelids drooping. After a while, she murmured, “Found any?”

“Still looking,” came the soft reply from above.

Resting her chin on her hands, Tang Yeran settled into a comfortable position. She’d checked her hair in the mirror earlier, no way Su Yang would actually find a white strand.

Time blurred in the quiet, shampoo-scented haze. Tang Yeran dozed off briefly against the sofa. When she opened her eyes again, Su Yang’s face loomed startlingly close.

She jolted, nearly toppling off the chair, but Su Yang caught her arm only to yank her completely off the seat, leaving her half-draped over the sofa back, or more accurately, dangling from Su Yang’s grip.

“Come sit properly.”

“Mm.” Still groggy, Tang Yeran obeyed uncharacteristically.

Only after shifting forward did she realize it was a single-seater sofa. Though spacious, squeezing two onto it meant unavoidable contact.

Despite the early spring chill, Tang Yeran in her pajamas suddenly felt too warm.

It hit her belatedly this closeness with Su Yang had crossed a line.

When had it started?

When she’d volunteered to blow-dry Su Yang’s hair?

When she’d allowed Su Yang to rummage through her locks?

When she’d fallen asleep defenselessly in her presence?

Or now, pressed hip-to-hip on a single sofa?

This went beyond “friendly coexistence”, it was at least best-friend-tier intimacy.

But could she and Su Yang ever be that close?

No way. Just the thought made her skin crawl.

To dispel the awkwardness, Tang Yeran blurted, “After all that searching, did you even find a white hair?”

“Not a single one. As expected of someone months younger.” Su Yang’s tone held no resentment, her luminous eyes glinting in the dim light.

The awkwardness thickened.

Tang Yeran fidgeted, tracing patterns on the sofa cushion. She’d always handled every version of Su Yang effortlessly, the stoic one, the tsundere one, the combative one.

But this Su Yang left her flustered.

Why is her sofa so damn soft? She was sinking into it.

Edging sideways to create space, she accidentally squished a rubbery object.

“QUACK, QUACK, QUACK, QUACK!”

The shrill noise shattered the night’s silence. Tang Yeran startled violently, her briefly upright posture collapsing back into the cushions.

“Quack quack quack!”

The noise not only continued but grew increasingly louder.

“Don’t move.” Su Yang steadied Tang Yeran with one hand while reaching behind her with the other to grab the noisy culprit.

The bright yellow plastic duck stretched its long neck, its fiery red beak gaping wide as if ready to unleash another round of endless quacking.

“No wonder I couldn’t find it anywhere these past two days, it was hiding in the sofa.” Su Yang’s eyes crinkled with amusement as he casually gave the duck’s neck another squeeze.

“Quack!”

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