Chapter 17 – Goodnight
1456 Words
Chapter 17 – Goodnight
The plates were cleared, the last clink of chopsticks fading into the humming hum of the restaurant. Su Bai‑Zhou stood, thanked the owner—“Zhou Jie”—and slipped her coat back on. Her eyes flicked to the pink hatchback waiting outside, its tiny “intern” sticker gleaming in the streetlights.
Luo Ye still sat in the driver’s seat, his heart thudding like a drumbeat. The night’s date—his very first—had just ended, and he could not tell whether the senior’s cool façade hid any hint of affection.
“Let’s head back to the faculty apartments,” Su Bai‑Zhou said softly, her voice barely above the whisper of the night wind.
She took a modest sip of the plum wine they’d shared. It didn’t make her drunk, but a faint rosy flush brushed her cheeks, softening the edge of her usual icy composure. Luo Ye caught that brief glimpse of warmth and felt his pulse race even harder. The fairy‑like figure he’d imagined in his mind now seemed almost within reach.
Traffic was light; the rush hour had already ebbed. The little car, with its pastel paint and the “intern” badge on the rear, turned heads as it glided through the quiet streets. No other vehicle dared to challenge it.
Soon they pulled into the gated parking lot of the faculty dormitory. Su Bai‑Zhou stepped out, brushed a stray lock of hair from her face, and turned to Luo Ye.
“Your phone was buzzing almost nonstop the whole time we were out,” she remarked, the faintest smile playing on her lips.
Luo Ye fished his phone from the glove compartment. He’d been driving so attentively he hadn’t noticed the flurry of messages waiting for him. His roommates’ group chat was a storm of frantic texts.
Hammer: “Where are you? We’re worried you’ve vanished.”
Shen Qiao: “Did you get a new girlfriend?!”
Li Hao‑Yang: [photo of an empty plate]
His stomach tightened. “My roommates think I’m cheating on them,” he muttered, a nervous laugh bubbling up. He glanced around, half‑expecting to see Su Bai‑Zhou’s apartment building looming nearby.
“What floor do you live on?” he blurted, the words spilling out before he could filter them.
She hesitated a heartbeat, then answered simply, “Room 614, Building 1.”
The number rang a faint, familiar bell in his mind. He had seen it once before—when he’d visited Gu Ming‑Xuan’s family and been shown the guest room—but he could not place it. The memory was hazy, shrouded by the endless blur of his boot‑camp days.
He waved a quick goodbye, but lingered a moment longer, watching her ascend the stone steps. The moment stretched, and then he finally turned away, his hands still gripping the steering wheel.
Outside the dorm entrance, he stood for a heartbeat, the plum‑wine bottle still clutched in his palm. The bottle’s sweet, tangy aroma drifted into the night air. He knew that if he brought it inside, Hammer would immediately pounce on it, demanding a share.
Without a second thought, Luo Ye tipped the bottle back and downed it in one swift gulp. The liquid was crisp and fragrant, a pleasant sting that left no room for drunkenness. He tossed the empty bottle into the nearest trash can and slipped inside the building.
His roommates were already gathered around the low table in the common room, their eyes locking onto him as soon as the door opened.
“Dude, what’s the story?” Hammer demanded, his voice a mixture of curiosity and accusation. “You better explain yourself to the three of us.”
Shen Qiao chuckled, eyes gleaming. “Looks like someone finally found a girl.”
Luo Ye brushed past them, heading straight for his desk. “You guys still want to rank up?” he asked, dropping his bag onto the chair.
“Always,” Hammer shouted, the excitement in his voice unmistakable.
Luo Ye settled in, opening his laptop. He hadn’t posted a new chapter of his online novel yet, and the night was still young for a writer. The clatter of keys filled the quiet room as he typed.
Hammer, ever the nosy roommate, peered over his shoulder. “You’ve been glued to that keyboard since day one of school. What’s the secret? Are you hiding something?”
“I’m a web‑novel writer,” Luo Ye said, pushing his glasses up his nose, trying to sound casual. The words sounded innocent to him, but in the ears of his friends they took on a different meaning.
“What? You write those… r‑rated stories?” Hammer lunged forward, eyes wide, his grin lecherous.
“Don’t jump to conclusions,” Luo Ye muttered, a faint smile playing on his lips. “It’s just fiction. Nothing illegal.”
Hammer’s grin grew wider. “Show me a draft, then. I’m curious.”
“Get lost,” Luo Ye snapped, typing furiously as the room fell into a comfortable silence.
Hours slipped by. The lights in the dorm dimmed, and one by one his roommates drifted off to their rooms, leaving Shen Qiao as the lone night‑owl, eyes glued to his phone, scrolling through some story.
When Luo Ye finally slid under his thin mattress, he reached for his pocket instinctively. Something heavy brushed against his thigh. He fumbled it out—a small, cold set of car keys.
His breath caught. The keys bore the familiar pink key‑fob of Su Bai‑Zhou’s hatchback. He must have slipped them into his pocket when the car doors closed earlier. Panic surged through him; the thought of the senior discovering his mistake made his heart pound.
He considered texting her, apologizing, maybe returning the keys, but the clock on his phone glowed 02:00 AM. The night had already stretched far beyond any reasonable hour for a message, especially after a date that felt more like a dream.
He stared at the keys, the weight of them suddenly feeling like a secret he couldn’t keep. He sighed, slipped them back into his pocket, and lay down, his mind a whirl of thoughts.
Why didn’t I say anything? he wondered. Why do I feel so nervous about a simple mistake?
He cursed himself silently. He’d never been good at chasing after girls. In high school, he’d spent three years pining silently for a girl who never even knew his name. After graduation, he’d whispered his feelings into the void and watched them fade.
Now, though, the girl who finally noticed him was sitting across from him at a grill table, laughing at his clumsy attempts to flip pork belly. The image of her face, flushed from the plum wine, replayed in his mind, brightening the darkness of his room.
Luo Ye finally typed a short message to Su Bai‑Zhou, then hesitated. With a sigh, he pressed send.
Luo Ye: “Goodnight, Senior.”
He placed his phone face‑down and closed his eyes, hoping sleep would come.
But his thoughts kept circling, replaying every moment of the night, every shy smile, every hesitant hand‑grip.
Meanwhile, in her own room, Su Bai‑Zhou’s phone buzzed. She saw the message: Goodnight, Senior. She stared at the screen, a faint crease forming between her brows.
The phrase reminded her of a boy from her own past—a junior high classmate who had texted her “goodnight” every night for months, only to be flat‑out rejected at his senior year’s graduation ceremony. He’d then tried to pressure her, spreading rumors and trying to tarnish her reputation. The whole episode left a bitter taste that made her wary of men who seemed too eager.
She put the phone down, the screen still glowing with Luo Ye’s simple, innocent greeting. A mix of curiosity and wariness tugged at her.
She tapped the keyboard, her fingers hovering over the keys for a heartbeat before she finally typed two characters and hit send.
Su Bai‑Zhou: “Good night!”
She placed the phone on her nightstand, the soft click echoing in the quiet of her small room. The night stretched ahead, filled with possibilities and unanswered questions.
Outside, the campus lights flickered, and the faint hum of an uninterested city carried on. Inside, two young people—one shy and earnest, the other guarded yet secretly intrigued—lay awake, each wondering what the next sunrise would bring.
- Writer
