You Are the Code of My Heartbeat

Fault and Repair

Cheng Jian woke to sunlight.

She opened her eyes to a bright morning. Golden lines of light slipped through the curtain gaps, casting sharp, slender streaks across the floor. A numb ache ran down her arm — Lu Wan was curled beside her, breathing steadily, her lashes casting delicate shadows in the soft glow.

Last night’s memories slowly returned: thunder, pillows, Lu Wan’s hair brushing against her chin, and that half-muttered dream-word. Cheng Jian gently pulled her arm free. She moved carefully, but Lu Wan still frowned slightly, instinctively curling deeper into the blanket.

Cheng Jian sat on the edge of the bed, staring at her hands.

—She had actually fallen asleep last night.

In the kitchen, the coffee maker bubbled softly. Steam rose, condensing on the glass before sliding down in slow trails. She thought of the cake from last night — too sweet, but she finished it all. That wasn’t like her.

"Morning!" Lu Wan’s voice came from behind, thick with sleep. Cheng Jian turned to see her rubbing her eyes in the doorway, her hair a wild tangle, her pajama collar slipping off one shoulder, revealing part of her collarbone.

"Do you want sugar in your coffee?" Cheng Jian asked.

"Of course!" Lu Wan’s eyes lit up as she leaned closer. "You’re not working today?"

Cheng Jian checked her watch. "Still forty minutes left."

"Then we’ve got time!" Lu Wan spun around and opened the fridge. "I bought bread and eggs yesterday."

Cheng Jian watched her move clumsily but enthusiastically around the kitchen. Paint stains still clung to her T-shirt from last night's drawing session, and her messy hair bounced with every motion.

"Here!" Lu Wan slid the fried egg toast onto the table, watching expectantly. "Try it!"

The edges were slightly burnt, the yolk half-cooked. Cheng Jian took a bite, then nodded. "Good."

Lu Wan beamed, her eyes crinkling into crescents. "See? My cooking is getting better!"

Cheng Jian sipped her coffee, the faintest hint of a smile playing at the corner of her lips.

---

In the office elevator, Cheng Jian stared at her reflection in the metal doors. Dark circles under her eyes, pale face, a wrinkle on her shirt collar — pressed there by Lu Wan last night.

"Ms. Cheng," a colleague called from behind. "Did you look at the code I sent last week?"

Cheng Jian nodded. "There’s a performance issue."

"Just push it live," the colleague chuckled. "Users won’t notice anyway."

The elevator doors opened. Cheng Jian stepped out, her footsteps quiet.

Her desk held a new surprise — a cup of bubble tea, condensation forming on the sides. Beneath it was a sticky note:

_「Thank you for letting me stay last night! (๑•̀ㅂ•́)و✧」_

She stared at it for a few seconds, then peeled it off. After a pause, she tucked it deep into the bottom drawer.

---

During lunch break, Cheng Jian opened her laptop and pulled up last night’s code. The screen was filled with dense rows of characters — silent protests from the machine. She tapped a few keys and deleted some redundant logic.

"Ms. Cheng," an intern peeked over from the next desk. "Can I get a copy of the interface doc for this module?"

Cheng Jian didn’t look up. "It’s on the internal network."

"Oh…" The intern sheepishly retreated.

Cheng Jian kept staring at the screen. Suddenly, she remembered Lu Wan asking last night, _“Do you usually sleep this late?”_

She hadn’t answered.

---

By the time work ended, it was already dark outside. Cheng Jian stood by the company entrance, the cold wind catching the collar of her coat. Her phone vibrated — a message from Lu Wan:

_「There’s pudding in the fridge! I improved the recipe!」_

Cheng Jian stared at the screen for a long while. She thought of Lu Wan’s breath last night — warm, even, like the heartbeat of some small creature.

When she turned the key in the lock, music greeted her from inside. Lu Wan sat cross-legged on the floor, her digital tablet open, a palette of paints resting by her feet. She hummed to herself, her messy bun tied up loosely, her T-shirt splattered with watercolor.

"You're back!" Lu Wan looked up, eyes sparkling. "Did you eat the pudding yet?"

Cheng Jian shook her head. "Not yet."

"Perfect!" Lu Wan jumped up. "I just made a fresh batch!"

She grabbed Cheng Jian’s wrist and pulled her toward the kitchen. Cheng Jian’s hand was cold, but Lu Wan’s palm was warm.

Inside the fridge were two puddings — golden brown on top, their surfaces smooth as mirrors. "Try it?" Lu Wan handed her a spoon.

Cheng Jian took a small scoop. The sweetness was just right.

"How is it?" Lu Wan leaned in, watching intently.

Cheng Jian nodded. "Good."

Lu Wan grinned — like sunlight breaking suddenly through clouds.

---

In the middle of the night, thunder rolled again. Cheng Jian opened her eyes to see a shadow standing in the doorway.

"...Lu Wan?"

"It's thundering," Lu Wan said, hugging her pillow. "Can I...?"

Cheng Jian lifted a corner of the blanket. Lu Wan crawled in, her hair brushing against Cheng Jian’s shoulder, tickling slightly.

"You're so cold," she mumbled. "Like ice."

Cheng Jian said nothing. Rain pattered outside, and soon, Lu Wan’s breathing steadied. Cheng Jian counted the drops falling outside — one, two, three — and then drifted off to sleep.

---

The next morning, Cheng Jian’s alarm still didn’t ring. Sunlight spilled across the bed, and Lu Wan’s arm lay across her waist — warm, heavy, like a process that couldn’t be terminated.

Cheng Jian gently moved the arm aside. In the kitchen, she brewed coffee, fried an egg, and toasted two slices of bread.

Golden at the edges, not burnt.