"Did I just hear Xie Xie's voice?"
Long Bing gazed out the window, looking a little dazed.
The window was half open. Morning air swept in and gently billowed the curtains. A white porcelain cup sat on the sill, steam still rising from the freshly brewed tea.
Her gaze passed through the glass to the stone path below. Sunlight stretched the Chinese Parasol Trees' shadows across it, scattering flecks of gold over the ground. A faint shout came from the distance, brief and scattered by the wind before she could make it out. But the voice sounded like Xie Xie's.
"I heard it too."
Wu Changkong wrapped his arms around her from behind.
His arms slipped around her waist and crossed in front of her, his chin resting in the hollow of her shoulder. His hair was still messy, the stray strands brushing her ear. His breath was warm, carrying the languor of someone who had only recently woken. They stayed pressed close together.
Judging by their rumpled clothes and the red marks on Long Bing's neck, something had probably happened last night.
The thin blanket lay bunched up on the bed, one corner hanging over the edge and nearly touching the floor. The pillows were crooked, one shoved into a corner by the headboard. Long Bing had buttoned her shirt wrong, with half the hem tucked into her waistband and half hanging loose. Wu Changkong's shirt wasn't buttoned at all. Its open collar revealed his sharply defined collarbones and chest.
Long Bing soon pushed him away. Her ears were red, and there was no telling what she was thinking.
She planted a hand on his chest, her palm against his warm skin, and gave him a firm shove. Wu Changkong's back hit the wall with a soft thud.
He