SBAB Chapter 39

Using the word “lying” might not be quite appropriate. In reality, Lin Xin was simply invited by Cheng Shiyin to sit at the edge of her bed while she went to fetch some tea leaves to serve him, as she had something important to say.

However, as soon as Cheng Shiyin left the room, Lin Xin, sitting politely, couldn’t contain his inner excitement. He relaxed his tense upper body and, casually yet deliberately, slid down slowly, letting his back make contact with the soft bed. Lin Xin stretched one arm out, forming a cross with his body while keeping his lower half rigidly upright in case he needed to sit back up quickly.

But Cheng Shiyin didn’t return immediately, which made Lin Xin, who had been alert before, finally let his guard down completely.

Cheng Shiyin placed the tea leaves on the table and noticed the water dispenser was empty. So, she had to carry the heavy water jug to the kitchen, which took some time.

Lin Xin seized the opportunity to enjoy his time alone in Cheng Shiyin’s room. He buried his face in the bed as if he were enjoying a quilt freshly warmed by the sun. Having gone so long without experiencing Cheng Shiyin’s scent, he was overwhelmed by the fragrance filling the room. Lin Xin, intoxicated by happiness, almost felt like rolling around in the bed.

And that’s exactly what he did.

Although Lin Xin had never interacted with a donkey, his rolling technique was so impressive that even a donkey would acknowledge his natural talent.

Cheng Shiyin, struggling to lift the water jug, finally realized the importance of her father at home. But since her parents were away for work, no one could help her carry the water. She suddenly remembered how Lin Xin had once carried her in his arms while running across the playground. Although it might not be appropriate to ask a guest to do chores, Lin Xin was much stronger than she was. Instead of struggling alone, it seemed more reasonable to ask Lin Xin, who was waiting in her bedroom, for help.

Unfortunately, at that moment, Lin Xin was on her bed, rolling around in a way that even a washing machine couldn’t match. Seeing this, Cheng Shiyin almost swallowed the words she had prepared to call out to him. She could already imagine that if she interrupted his strange behavior, Lin Xin would immediately cover his face and run away, never to show up in front of her again. That would make all the progress she had made today meaningless.

However, Cheng Shiyin was also puzzled by something else: It seemed that Lin Xin encountered embarrassing situations more often than others.

Perhaps it was because of his extraordinary mind and his unexpected, peculiar actions. But there was a certain charm to it.

Cheng Shiyin stayed silent, not leaving, but leaning against the doorframe, observing Lin Xin’s ridiculous antics.

Lin Xin’s joy didn’t last long. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Cheng Shiyin looking at him with an “emmm” expression. Panicking, he didn’t know how to stop himself and quickly wanted to explain that he didn’t mean anything bad. Although he hadn’t asked for permission to lie on the bed, his feet and shoes had never touched the bed. But as he thought about the bright smile he had on his face earlier, he felt like he could die from embarrassment.

【Die】

… Cheng Shiyin’s bed was soft.

He couldn’t die, but his smile only became more awkward.

Honestly, he might as well just die.

Cheng Shiyin saw Lin Xin’s changing expressions. Before he could spiral into self-loathing, Cheng Shiyin spoke up with a line from a movie: “Because I added onions.”

Onions?

Lin Xin finally stopped, sitting on the bed, panting. He slowly responded, “I’ve never had such delicious char siu rice.”

It was a random line from a movie, even out of order, but for Lin Xin, it was the perfect way to save face, and Cheng Shiyin had thrown him the lifeline. Lin Xin’s odd behavior was immediately linked to a scene from Stephen Chow’s The God of Cookery, and just like that, he was off the hook.

Neither of them mentioned what had just happened. Cheng Shiyin naturally led Lin Xin to the kitchen. After the water boiled, the two of them sat face to face in the dining area, both as awkward as two people on a first blind date.

Lin Xin held the hot tea that Cheng Shiyin had poured for him, looking at his disheveled reflection in the water, his mind drifting back to what had happened in the village earlier:

Lin Xin, if he said he was the second unluckiest person, no one would dare claim the top spot. But when it came to luck, no one could argue with that either.

Cheng Shiyin, coincidentally, had gone to the village market to buy groceries and found poor Lin Xin standing there, staring blankly at his phone. He wasn’t avoiding people and kept bumping into others. Cheng Shiyin couldn’t see any hope in his eyes. Although the actual situation wasn’t as bad as she thought, she still felt like she couldn’t see even a glimpse of “shine” in his eyes.

What had Lin Xin been through to be so worn down by life?

Could it be because of her? Cheng Shiyin could only think that way.

In truth, ever since she ran away, Cheng Shiyin had been living in emotional regret, wishing she had given Lin Xin a clear answer. Even just telling him that she didn’t have any dislike for his feelings would have prevented him from prematurely dismissing himself.

She didn’t dislike Lin Xin, but she wasn’t ready yet. Her feelings weren’t strong enough to match his love. Cheng Shiyin only wished Lin Xin knew that he hadn’t done anything wrong. He was excellent; it was her lack of excellence that had led to this outcome.

Every day, Cheng Shiyin always stopped herself from reaching out to Lin Xin. She couldn’t give him false hope, and she didn’t believe she could offer him what he deserved. So, Cheng Shiyin always ended up choosing to not contact him, hoping that Lin Xin would forget about her. He deserved someone better.

But the sight of Lin Xin so dejected in front of her wasn’t what Cheng Shiyin wanted to see.

She didn’t even realize that she had developed too many expectations for Lin Xin’s future and had started interfering with his life.

All she saw was Lin Xin, and it gave her the courage to forget her inner conflict. She even forgot her earlier wish for him to forget her. This time, she didn’t choose to escape; instead, she extended her hand and placed it on Lin Xin’s shoulder, saying, “Do you want to come to my house?”

Cheng Shiyin saw the gleam in Lin Xin’s eyes, so bright it could have been the heroine of a manga. Her lips lifted in a smile, reflecting in Lin Xin’s eyes, making him unable to focus on anything other than her. Without asking any questions, Lin Xin simply followed Cheng Shiyin home, where she had disappeared from his life since that day.

When Cheng Shiyin opened the door, she didn’t say, “I’m home,” because her house was empty except for herself. At this thought, Lin Xin’s face flushed red, though his thoughts were more suited to a comic strip.

Cheng Shiyin noticed Lin Xin spacing out, so she tapped the table with a pen to break him out of his reverie. Coming back to the present, Lin Xin saw the A4 sheet of paper on the table between them, along with a black marker in Cheng Shiyin’s hand.

Cheng Shiyin uncapped the marker and, in front of Lin Xin, wrote the words “Three Rules” in big characters on the paper.

Having read enough comics, Lin Xin immediately understood what Cheng Shiyin meant. He looked at her earnestly, ready to listen attentively.

In the world of comics, “three rules” often equates to cohabitation or other arrangements designed to deepen the relationship between the protagonists.

Maybe it was because Cheng Shiyin had seen the pitiful version of herself that she made this decision. Realizing this, Lin Xin felt even more pitiable, like an abandoned dog in a box, no one able to resist the glimmer of tears in his eyes. Although his acting skills couldn’t produce any real tears, his pitiful state was enough to explain why Cheng Shiyin had brought him home.

After writing, Cheng Shiyin didn’t immediately list the rules. Instead, she asked, “Why aren’t you going home for the holidays?”

Caught off guard, Lin Xin didn’t know how to explain. He was about to make up a sad story but was caught by Cheng Shiyin’s sharp gaze. Before he could speak, she added, “Don’t lie to me.”

“I already told my family I wouldn’t be going back, but I forgot that I needed the school’s stamp…” Lin Xin mumbled. He wasn’t lying; he just left out part of the truth.

“Hm…” Given Lin Xin’s carelessness, Cheng Shiyin found his explanation acceptable. So, she wrote the first rule on the paper: “During the holidays, treat this place as your home. Share the household chores.”

Lin Xin had no objections. He was willing to sign first if necessary, as long as he could stay—he would accept any conditions.

Next, Cheng Shiyin wrote the second rule: “No excessive physical contact.” This was a rule she would have written after learning that Lin Xin had feelings for her, and it would appear in any contract between the main characters. Although Cheng Shiyin wasn’t sure what excessive physical contact between women would look like, and even less clear about what it might be between men and women, she thought back and realized that her confusion about certain situations was probably why she hadn’t paid attention to that video before. It was a missed learning opportunity.

Lin Xin agreed to this rule as well. He never expected much in terms of physical contact, so whether or not it was written down didn’t matter to him. It would be helpful to have someone remind him not to do anything inappropriate.

The last rule made Lin Xin’s eyes well up. “No bringing it up again.”

What was she referring to? Cheng Shiyin didn’t write it down, but Lin Xin knew exactly what it meant. It was about the confession. She had accepted his feelings but hadn’t given him a second chance.

After finishing the three rules, Cheng Shiyin asked, “Do you have any questions?”

“No, thank you. No questions,” Lin Xin replied. But then, he suddenly remembered something and asked, “Where will I sleep tonight? I’m not picky; I’ll sleep on the sofa in the living room.”

Cheng Shiyin had already planned for Lin Xin to stay in her room, with herself moving to her parent’s room. But seeing the stars twinkling in Lin Xin’s eyes, she added another rule on the paper: “No rolling on my bed!!!” She emphasized her strict stance on the matter with three bold exclamation points.

“Alright,” Lin Xin muttered, his head down.