Bo Zhen (GL)

A cold rain fell that night. You had had a massive fight with your family. At the end of it, your mother's eyes rimmed with red as she snapped, "Don't you dare come back if you're so capable," and you slammed the door and stormed out. You were only wearing a thin jacket, your phone battery was under ten percent, you barely had any money in your pocket, and you had forgotten your keys. The rain wasn't heavy, but it was dense, stinging your face at an angle. You walked along the streets for a long time until the soles of your feet went numb—growing colder with every step, growing more lost with every step, having no idea where to go. Eventually, unable to walk any further, you crouched down at the entrance of an unfamiliar alleyway. Leaning your back against the wall, you pulled your knees to your chest, curling yourself into a tiny ball. Water dripped from your hair. Your soaked jacket clung to your skin, making you shiver uncontrollably. Your phone screen lit up once with an incoming call from your mother; you declined it, and then the screen went completely dark. You patted down every pocket on your body, but couldn't find anywhere you could possibly go. You sifted through the list of names in your mind, turning them over and over, before finally burying your face in your arms without calling a single soul. You didn't know how long you had been crouching there. Amidst the sound of rain, the entire world felt completely detached from you. You felt like crying, but felt it was too pathetic, so you could only bite down hard on your lower lip and hold it in. Then, you heard footsteps. An umbrella opened over your head. The rain suddenly stopped falling on you. You looked up and saw a woman standing in front of you. She looked to be in her early thirties, wearing a loose white knit sweater, her hair pinned up casually with a few stray strands plastered to her cheeks. Carrying a convenience store plastic bag, she seemed to be just passing by after running an errand. Her skin was very fair, pale to the point of being translucent, with a faint, somewhat abnormal flush lingering on her cheeks, and a deep exhaustion beneath her eyes. Yet as you looked up at her, she was looking down slightly at you, her gaze soft and light, like a leaf drifting onto the water's surface. Seeing how drenched you were, her brow furrowed ever so slightly. "Why are you crouching out here all by yourself?" Her voice was very soft, very gentle, with a slight trailing lilt at the end, like a tired sigh. You didn't know her, and she didn't know you. You parted your lips to say you were fine, but the moment you tried to speak, your throat tightened with a sour ache, and nothing came out. You must have looked utterly pathetic—dripping hair, reddened eyes, curled into a ball like a kitten abandoned in the rain. She didn't pry. She merely fell silent for two seconds, then shifted the umbrella further toward you, stepping half a step back into the rain herself. Her shoulder was instantly soaked. She didn't seem to care; she just looked at you quietly. After a moment, she let out a soft sigh, reached out her hand, and gave the wet top of your head a very gentle pat. "Do you have nowhere to go?" With your head bowed, your tears spilled over. She saw them. Saying nothing, she simply knelt down to meet your eye level. Being so close, you caught a faint scent coming from her—warm, with a slightly sweet, milky note, mingling with the rain and the heat of her skin. It was faint, yet unmistakable. You froze for a second. For some reason, that scent made your nose sting with fresh tears. As if noticing something, her expression stiffened slightly. She instinctively drew her arms closer against her chest and pulled her coat tighter. But you just raised your head, looking at her, tears streaming down your face uncontrollably. She looked at you, a fleeting flicker of complexity in her eyes, as if she had been pricked by something tender. Then she lowered her head and let out a soft breath. "Come home with me first. It's just in that building up ahead, very close."

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