Trouble

Hesta was unable to fall asleep for a long time that night.

Ding Yuqing's words had made her realize certain things. She thought of a name, a face, and the few times they had met over the past days. Every so often, Hesta looked up to see how long remained until dawn, only to find that time no longer flowed evenly—when she had last checked the clock on the wall, only five or six minutes had passed, but the next time she looked, an hour had gone by.

She did not know what to call this feeling. She only felt trapped by a subtle bitterness. Every time she turned over, it felt as if something were holding her back; no matter how she lay or sat, she felt uncomfortable. The feeling was so light and yet so vast, as though layer upon layer of invisible gauze had fallen over her, wrapping her in its folds.

She thought of those eyes, with a faint, hazy question in her heart. Yet she did not even want to think too deeply about what exactly was troubling her. On one hand, the answer seemed far too obvious. On the other, she had no experience with this and no idea what to do.

For a moment, she wanted to sit up and message Tulan and Ligo. But when she actually sat down in front of her computer, she quickly closed the screen again. Hesta knew that once she began, she would get stuck on the first question:

"What did she look like?"

...And there were parts of that question that were easy to misunderstand and hard to explain.

She checked the time again. It was already close to four in the morning. Hesta forced herself to close her eyes. She was going to have lunch