Who Knows If Jiang You Will Cry Today
1531 Words
Jiang You's way of eating ice cream is also quite enchanting—her tongue teasing the ice with vivid red, her lips bright and colorful, stunningly beautiful.
Everyone was watching her.
She knew it, yet she reveled in the sensation of being the center of attention.
Quan Jing felt an inexplicable blockage in his chest, a stifling sensation caught in his throat, neither rising nor falling.
It was he who couldn't stand it in the end, grabbing Jiang You's wrist, pulling her aside to a secluded spot to sit down, and said with a deep voice: "Just sit here and eat it, then we can leave after you finish."
Jiang You glanced around, surrounded only by trees, no one else in sight. Her eyes lit up, she squeezed closer to Quan Jing, and whispered coyishly in his ear: "Quan Jing, do you want to kiss me?"
“There’s no one here, shall we kiss?”
She had been eating ice cream continuously, her mouth cool and filled with the sweet taste of strawberry. It tickled Quan Jing's ear, as if ants were crawling over it. He refrained with difficulty, turning his head to look displeasedly at Jiang You. Her eyes were glistening pools that one could easily drown in without careful attention. His voice was cold: “Can’t eating ice cream keep your mouth shut?”
Jiang You closed her eyes, pouted her lips, and leaned closer to him: “Ice cream can’t, only your lips can seal mine.”
She, with her eyes closed, was begging for a kiss. Her dark lashes fluttered gently, casting shadows in the sunlight on her alabaster cheeks—naive yet charming.
Quan Jing's heart skipped a beat, a moment of disconcertion, followed immediately by a surge of prickly annoyance—disturbed by his own strange changes and loss of control!
His face cooled three degrees more, he took a deep breath, coldly saying: “The ice cream's going to melt.”
Jiang You pouted, seemingly having anticipated that he would not kiss her. She calmly opened her eyes, her eyelashes long and full, her pupils large and bright, adding an innate sense of purity and innocence. She leaned back, no longer acting coyly or clinging to him, and continued to leisurely enjoy her cone as if nothing had happened.
Quan Jing was irritated by her carefree and nonchalant demeanor, as if stirring up a sudden surge of vexation within him. She was merely toying with him on a whim, doling out teasing whenever she was bored, not a single word of truth in her mouth!
Where was her sincerity in wanting to kiss him?
Usually persistent five times even when he shook off her attempts to hold his hand, but now wanting to kiss him, she asked impatiently just once! It was she who chose him to be in a relationship with, and now she had such little patience for him—how was that justifiable!
Quan Jing's face was an icy mask, his aura colder than the cone in Jiang You's hand. As she licked her ice cream, eyebrows relaxed and beautiful.
Quan Jing watched the cone in her hands, sneering internally: So quiet now? Isn’t the ice cream enough to silence her? What need was there for his lips!
All sweet talk and lies!
Quan Jing always felt restless when with Jiang You, not his usual temperament.
Jiang You becoming quiet, he suddenly couldn’t stand her relaxed enjoyment of the cone, basking in the sunlight, treating him as if he didn’t exist.
Quan Jing's expression remained frosty, he spoke slowly: “The scores will be announced in seven days. When the time comes, don't choose me again.”
At his words, Jiang You was inwardly delighted, which matched her intentions perfectly.
She hadn’t planned on choosing Quan Jing anyway; his temperament was too cold, too prone to turning his face away—not the type she favored. But Jiang You had yet to find a new target, so she decided to keep her options open.
Her lips quickly formed a sweet smile, and she clingily moved toward Quan Jing, wrapping her arms tightly around his, almost hanging on him, coquettishly refusing: “I don't want to! Quan Jing, I only like you, I only want to date you.”
“I did very well this time, I'm sure I'll still be top ranked when the results are out, I still want to choose you, I know you probably don't like me that much yet, but feelings take time to develop, right? I promise I can keep scoring top ranks, and I'll only pick you, let's take it slowly, one day you’ll like me, okay?”
She gently rocked his arm, looking at him expectantly, cooing: “Please say yes, okay?”
Quan Jing felt his irritation and displeasure dissolve, he suppressed the urge to smile, remaining silent without giving a clear yes or no.
Jiang You looked at him beamingly: “If you don't say anything, I'll take it as a yes.”
Quan Jing's expression softened slightly, looking at her cone, deliberately changing the subject: “The ice cream's melting, eat it quickly.”
Jiang You showed him her hand with a slight furrow of her delicate brows, a hint of distaste: “The ice cream got on it.”
Quan Jing frowned, glanced at her, and silently pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket, handing it over to her: “Wipe it yourself.”
Jiang You took the handkerchief, her smile bright with surprise: “Quan Jing, you carry a handkerchief with you!”
“You remembered something I mentioned in passing, and you say you don't like me? That you have no feelings for me?”
“I knew people are all tenderhearted, I’m so pretty and so cute, given enough time you're bound to like me, when the results come out I'll still choose you, let's continue to develop our relationship, okay?”
Quan Jing felt somewhat embarrassed, his complexion uneasy, silent still.
Jiang You is like made of water—tearful. Any tiny dissatisfaction and she would cry, tears streaming nonstop. Although Quan Jing had no idea if her tears were genuine or crocodile tears.
Last month at the beginning of their relationship, during the rainy season, she loved beauty and would only wear low-heel sandals. She hated to dirty her feet when it rained, and would coyly insist that Quan Jing carry her to the parking lot. Quan Jing would never agree, handing the umbrella to her, coldly leaving behind the words “Stay here if you don't walk”, and then walking away without looking back.
She didn't move an inch, standing under the umbrella crying, tears like rain beading on a pear blossom. Passersby kept asking her what was wrong, and she, in tears, told them that Quan Jing had abandoned her there, uncaring.
Quan Jing had already driven off by that time, his face stormy, grip tight on the steering wheel, the pressure in the car suffocating, the rain pounding on the windshield noisy and distracting. Then came the endless calls criticizing him for leaving Jiang You alone, urging him to come back for her, even offering to drive her home.
At that moment, Quan Jing felt like his brain would explode, the windshield wipers worked frantically, whipping back and forth. They would clear a spot, only for it to blur again instantaneously. His brow was furrowed, but in the end, he slammed the steering wheel around abruptly, turning back, with a screeching protest from the tires.
He had only one umbrella, which he had given to Jiang You, leaving him drenched when he ran back to her side, in a state of disarray. There she was under the umbrella, dry and alert, only her eyes were red and watery, eyelashes still wet with tears, and it was hard to tell whether the raindrops or her tears were prettier.
People around shamed Quan Jing before leaving, his complexion was terrible, but he tried to suppress his anger, his voice cold as he asked her: “My clothes are soaked, do you still want me to carry you?”
As he expected, Jiang You hesitated under the umbrella, after grappling with herself for a while, she finally muffled out: “You don't have to carry me, I'll walk myself.”
Quan Jing felt a little more relieved, but his face was still cold. He had never been so disheveled before, took the umbrella from her, and she, fearing his wet clothes would dampen hers, kept a cautious distance. Quan Jing followed with the umbrella, half of his body exposed to the rain.
He bit back his fury, comforting himself that he was already soaked anyway, a little more wouldn't matter. But then Jiang You started crying again as they walked, whimpering: “My shoes are wet, uncomfortable.”
At that moment, Quan Jing wished he could throw her into the water, but years of upbringing only allowed him to utter coldly: “Bear with it!”
Quan Jing had never felt the separation from Mingde University's parking lot so distant before, had he
- Writer
