When The Snow Falls In Autumn Chapter 60

Chapter 60

The fourth long oak table on the west side of the library, 6:50 in the evening.The sky outside the window is getting dark, a clear gray-blue that is unique after rain. The last thin ray of light struggles to stay on the skyline, and will soon be swallowed up by the overflowing night.All the lights in the library were on, and the warm yellow light enveloped the quiet bookshelves and sparse human figures.There is a slightly damp smell in the air, a mixture of old books, paper, dust, and wood that has been soaked in rain and then dried.

Ye Qiulan arrived ten minutes early.She chose her usual seat – by the window, with her back to most of the reading area.When he sat down, he was still wearing Ling Xueqing’s dark gray windbreaker.She went back to the dormitory to change her clothes in the afternoon, but after thinking about it, she folded the coat carefully and brought it over in a clean paper bag.The paper bag was placed at my feet, and the canvas bag contained the professional books and notebooks I would read in the evening.

Her heartbeat was faster than usual, and her fingers unconsciously rubbed the warm surface of the paper bag.His eyes fell on the empty chair opposite, and then moved to the window.The leaves of the camphor tree were wet, taking on a dark green color in the growing twilight. Occasionally, accumulated rainwater would fall from the leaf tips and hit the bushes below, making a subtle “snap” sound.

Six fifty-seven.Familiar footsteps sounded behind him, slowly and slowly, stopping at the table.

Ye Qiulan raised his head.

Ling Xueqing stood beside the table.She changed into an off-white round-neck sweater, which was soft in texture and made the lines of her neck long and fair. She wore a dark blue thin jacket with the zipper unzipped.Her long dark hair was tied into a low ponytail on the back of her head, with a few strands of hair falling on her cheeks.Her face looked much better under the light than when she was in the classroom in the afternoon, at least it was no longer that tight and pale, and her eyes had returned to their usual calmness.But when his eyes touched the paper bag at Ye Qiulan’s feet, his eyes flickered almost imperceptibly.

She did not sit down immediately, but gently placed a dark blue thermos cup in her hand on the table in front of Ye Qiulan.The cup is warm.

“It’s for you.” Ling Xueqing’s voice was steady, without any emotion, “Ginger tea.”

Ye Qiulan was startled for a moment and looked at the familiar thermos cup.It’s Ling Xueqing’s own cup.She unscrewed the lid of the cup, and the warm and spicy smell of ginger mixed with the sweet aroma of brown sugar immediately wafted out. It tasted exactly the same as the bowl of porridge she cooked and the cup of tea she brewed during her last illness.Obviously, it was Mrs. Zhao’s handiwork, or Ling Xueqing cooked it according to Mrs. Zhao’s recipe.

“Thank you.” Ye Qiulan whispered, holding the cup, the warm touch spread from his palms to his heart.

Ling Xueqing sat down opposite her.She did not immediately reach for the paper bag containing her coat, nor did she explain her actions in the afternoon or her avoidance over the past few days.She just took out her laptop from her backpack, opened it, took out the dark blue hard-shell notebook and a pen, and spread them out on the table.His movements were orderly, as if he was about to conduct a normal study session.

But Ye Qiulan noticed that after she opened the notebook, she did not write or read immediately. Instead, her fingertips unconsciously rubbed the edge of the paper, and her eyes fell on the blank page, seeming to be in a trance.The light cast a small shadow on her lowered eyelashes.

The atmosphere was slightly stagnant.There were students walking around among the bookshelves not far away, talking in low voices, and the rustling sound of administrators sorting books in the distance were all isolated by this small space.There was only the air flowing silently between the two of them, and the slightly steaming heat from the thermos cup in Ye Qiulan’s hand.

Ye Qiulan sipped ginger tea.The warm, sweet and spicy liquid slid down her throat, bringing a familiar warmth and giving her a little courage.She put down the cup, picked up the paper bag at her feet, and gently pushed it to the middle of the table, toward Ling Xuequing.

“Your coat,” she said. “Thank you…afternoon.”

Ling Xueqing’s eyes finally moved away from the notebook and landed on the ordinary brown paper bag.She was silent for a few seconds before reaching out, taking the paper bag and placing it on the chair next to her.The movement was very light, as if what was inside was not a piece of clothing, but something fragile.

“Yeah.” She responded.His eyes fell back on the notebook, but he still didn’t write.

There was another moment of silence.Even more difficult than before.

Ye Qiulan clenched the thermos cup in his hand, feeling the warmth on his fingertips.She knew that Ling Xueqing was waiting for her to speak, or was using this silence to maintain a defensive posture that she had not completely given up.She had to say something, do something, to break the ice.

“You…” She cleared her dry throat, “Are you… completely recovered?”

Ling Xueqing’s fingers stroking the edge of the page paused.She raised her eyes and looked at Ye Qiulan.The gaze was deep, scrutinizing, and also filled with something subtle and akin to caution.

“Okay.” She replied shortly.

“That day… in the library,” Ye Qiulan’s voice was lower, almost like a whisper, and his heart was pounding, “Are you… uncomfortable? So…”

She didn’t finish her sentence, but the meaning was obvious.She was referring to the day when her pheromones were slightly out of control.

Ling Xueqing’s body tensed almost imperceptibly for a moment.Her lips pursed into a straight line, and something in her eyes quickly sank and became cold.The base of his ears began to turn faintly red again, but this time it was not because of embarrassment, but more like a stress reaction caused by being touched on the most sensitive and least mentioned area.

“No.” She denied quickly, her voice a little colder than before, “You are wrong.”

The tone was decisive, with Ling Xueqing’s unique and unquestionable sense of finality.She was trying to shut down the topic, like she had done every time before.

But Ye Qiulan didn’t back down like before.Maybe it was the ginger tea that gave her warmth and courage, or maybe it was the memory of the coat that still seemed to linger on her body that made her unwilling to be pushed away again.She looked at Ling Xueqing’s obviously tight jawline and red ears, and the sourness in her heart mixed with a stronger urge to get closer made her continue.

“I’m not wrong.” She heard her own voice, although it was soft, but extremely clear, “I smell it. Although it’s very faint… but I smell it. It’s the smell of cedar, right?”

These words were like a pebble thrown into a deep pool, instantly breaking the calm water surface that Ling Xueqing tried hard to maintain.Her pupils shrank almost imperceptibly, and the fingers holding the pen suddenly tightened, and her knuckles turned slightly white from the exertion.The blood on his face faded a bit, and his eyes were filled with complex emotions – shock, anger, embarrassment of having his secret revealed, and perhaps something deeper and unspeakable.

She stared at Ye Qiulan, her eyes so sharp that they seemed to penetrate her.Ye Qiulan forced himself to meet her gaze. Although his heartbeat was beating like a drum and his palms were sweating, he did not look away.

A few seconds of stalemate seemed like centuries.The background sounds in the library blurred into a distant hum.

Finally, Ling Xueqing looked away first.She lowered her eyes, focusing on her hand with white knuckles that was holding the pen tightly.His chest rose and fell slightly, and his breathing seemed a little unsteady.She didn’t deny it anymore.

Silence fell again, but this time it was filled with invisible tension.Like a bow that is fully drawn, the string is stretched to the extreme, but you don’t know where the arrow will shoot.

Ye Qiulan waited and held his breath.She didn’t know whether what she did was right or wrong. She only knew that if she didn’t speak out today, the ice wall might become even more impenetrable.

After a long time, Ling Xueqing spoke very slowly and word by word, her voice low and hoarse, almost exhausted:

“Beta…shouldn’t smell it.”

She didn’t look at Ye Qiulan, as if she was stating a cold fact or questioning.

“I don’t know.” Ye Qiulan answered honestly, and his voice softened, “But that day… I just smelled it. Maybe… maybe it was because it was so close?”

This was a vague explanation that even she herself found unconvincing.Beta’s insensitivity to pheromones is physiological and cannot be compensated for by distance.

Ling Xueqing didn’t speak, but the corners of her mouth turned down almost imperceptibly, with a hint of self-mockery, or helplessness.She was silent for a while, and then spoke again, her voice even lower, almost drowning in the silence of the library:

“That day… I did get a little out of control. Maybe I was sick before, and my physical strength has not recovered, and I have been focusing on those fragments for too long…” She paused, as if saying this had taken a lot of energy from her, “… I’m sorry. I scared you.”

The last “sorry” is no longer the dry, distanced word in the classroom in the afternoon, but is soaked with a real and heavy fatigue, and a trace of unconcealable… embarrassment.

Ye Qiulan’s heart felt as if something had pinched him hard.The sourness surged through her, almost overwhelming her.Not for myself, but for Ling Xueqing.For the fact that she had to control herself so harshly, for seeing this as a “mistake” and a “scare” that needed to be apologized for, for the heavy, lonely exhaustion she showed now that she was letting go of some of her defenses.

“You didn’t scare me.” Ye Qiulan said immediately, his voice trembling slightly with urgency, “Not at all. I’m just… worried about you.”

Ling Xueqing raised her eyes and looked at her.The coldness and alertness in his eyes faded a bit, replaced by a deeper complexity that Ye Qiulan couldn’t understand.There is scrutiny, confusion, and maybe… there is also an extremely weak looseness that even Ling Xuequing herself may not be aware of.

“What are you worried about me for?” she asked, her tone flat but with a hint of inquiry.

Ye Qiulan choked.What to worry about?Worried that she is unwell?Worried that she is carrying too much?Worried that she’s always alone?Worried that she…is too far away from you?Too many words came to my mouth, but no words came out.In the end, she just said in a low voice: “I’m worried about you…it doesn’t feel good.”

Ling Xueqing fell silent again.She lowered her head again and looked at her notebook. Her fingertips no longer rubbed the pages, but just rested there quietly.The warm yellow light enveloped her, casting a soft halo on her body, but it could not illuminate the deep shadows under her eyes.

After a long time, she said very softly, almost like a sigh:

“Get used to it.”

Get used to strict control.Get used to it alone.We are used to treating all possible “accidents” and “loss of control” as troubles that need to be avoided and apologized for.Accustomed to maintaining calm and order on the surface in a hard shell.

These three words made Ye Qiulan feel a dull pain more than any explanation or complaint.She looked at Ling Xueqing’s drooping profile, and at the quiet fan-shaped shadow cast by her thick eyelashes under her eyes, and the sour mess in her heart seemed to be tightened by a stronger force, twisting into a sharp pain.

She wanted to say something, do something, to dispel the heaviness brought by those three words.But she didn’t know what to say or what to do.Between them, there is still the chasm between Alpha and Beta, the high wall built by Ling Xueqing himself, and too much unspeakable history and burden.

She could only pick up the already cold ginger tea and take another sip.The sweet and spicy taste is still there, but the warmth seems to be difficult to reach the coldest corner of my heart.

Ling Xueqing finally picked up the pen and started writing in the notebook.The tip of the pen scratched the paper, making a soft rustling sound, which seemed particularly clear in the silence.Her profile returned to its usual concentration and calmness, as if the brief, almost confessional conversation had never happened.

But Ye Qiulan knew that something was different.A tiny crack was carved out of that layer of ice.Although the crack was quickly frozen by the cold wave, the crack itself already existed.

The night outside the window was completely thick as ink.The library’s closing bell will not ring for a long time.

Ye Qiulan also opened his professional book and tried to focus on those boring words.But her eyes always drifted involuntarily to the opposite side, to Ling Xueching’s steady and bony hand holding the pen, to her lowered and calm eyebrows, to the soft hair beside her ear that swayed gently with the writing movement.

The thermos cup in my hand gradually became cold.