Lu Ruoxi Side Story: Thorny Rose - Budding

Su Yang took off his school uniform jacket.

He walked over to her, his movements as clumsy as a bear.

Holding his breath, he gently draped the jacket—still warm from his body—over her shoulders.

Having done this, he scurried back to his seat like a guilty thief.

He slumped over his desk, pretending to read.

But his heart pounded wildly, as if trying to leap out of his chest.

His ears burned red, nearly dripping with heat.

When Ye Ruoxi woke, she was enveloped in an unfamiliar warmth.

She shifted slightly and realized there was an extra layer over her—

a boy’s blue-and-white school jacket,

two or three sizes too big for her.

She froze.

Lifting her head, she scanned the nearly empty classroom.

Her gaze landed instantly on the figure sitting not far away.

He wore a thin white shirt, hunched over his desk with his back to her.

It was Su Yang.

It had to be Su Yang.

An uncontrollable ripple stirred in Ye Ruoxi’s heart.

From the moment this sunny boy had entered her life, he’d persistently offered her clumsy kindness and tenderness.

The warmth of his jacket seeped through her thin clothes, sinking into her skin.

So warm it almost made her cry.

But she clenched her teeth, biting down hard on her lip.

No.

Tears were the most useless thing in this world.

If a year ago, Ye Ruoxi had merely sensed goodwill from Su Yang,

now, the girl could feel something else—the faint stirrings of youthful affection.

She couldn’t accept this warmth.

Nor could she accept these budding emotions.

Because she had nothing to give in return.

Her world was a cold, dark island.

She couldn’t let anyone try to build a lighthouse for her.

Because then, in the endless darkness, she might glimpse hope.

And hope was far crueler than despair.

It would make her waver.

Make her linger.

Make her forget her only goal:

Escape.

Swiftly, she removed the jacket and folded it neatly,

as if handling a precious artifact that didn’t belong to her.

The class bell rang.

Su Yang finally lifted his head from his “pretend nap.”

He didn’t dare look at her,

but from the corner of his eye, he noticed his jacket was no longer on her.

His heart sank with a pang of disappointment.

Yet he also thought—of course.

This was just who she was.

By the next break, when Su Yang returned to the classroom,

he found his neatly folded school jacket waiting on his desk.

He picked it up, catching a faint trace of a cool, unfamiliar scent lingering on the fabric.

Without a word, he slipped it back on.

But in his heart, he made a decision.

He would study harder.

Not just for himself.

But to inch closer to that solitary island.

Even if he could only be a silent lighthouse she’d never turn to see.

…

After the jacket incident, Su Yang’s protectiveness grew bolder.

No longer limited to secretly tucking an egg into her desk drawer.

The autumn rain arrived without warning.

By the last class of the afternoon, the sky outside had turned a dull gray.

The moment the dismissal bell rang, fat raindrops began hammering down.

Students groaned, trapped inside the school building.

Ye Ruoxi stood by the corridor window, watching the rain weave into sheets.

She waited.

For the rain to lighten.

Or stop.

She had no umbrella.

And couldn’t justify spending money to buy one from the school store.

Su Yang stepped out of the classroom, his backpack slung over one shoulder.

In his hand was a black, long-handled umbrella, worn with age.

He saw her.

Saw her slender frame standing motionless as she gazed calmly at the storm.

He walked over and stopped beside her.

“The rain’s too heavy,” he said.

Ye Ruoxi didn’t turn. Only gave a soft “Mm.”

Then Su Yang shoved the umbrella into her hands.

“Take it.”

Before she could react, he dashed into the downpour,

like a bird rushing back to its nest.

The rain drenched his hair and shoulders instantly.

He ran so fast his figure blurred into the rain within seconds.

Ye Ruoxi stood frozen, gripping the umbrella still warm from his touch.

She looked down at it.

The handle bore marks of wear—a well-used object.

She stood there a long time.

Only when the hallway had nearly emptied did she finally open the umbrella and step into the rain.

It was a heavy storm.

But the umbrella was large.

Enough to shield her completely,

cutting her off from the world’s relentless downpour.

The next day,

Su Yang’s desk held a neatly folded black umbrella.

As the days grew colder,

Ye Ruoxi’s clothes never thickened.

She wore the same thin, faded middle-school uniform, washed nearly white.

Su Yang watched her hunch slightly at her desk, shoulders trembling from the cold.

Something pricked at his heart.

That afternoon, he didn’t leave school right away.

He waited until the classroom emptied.

Then he walked to Ye Ruoxi’s seat.

This time, he didn’t drape his jacket over her.

Instead, he hung it on the back of her chair.

He then returned his bag to his desk,

creating the illusion that he’d just stepped out briefly.

He slipped into the hallway, hiding around the corner to watch.

Ye Ruoxi returned.

Her eyes landed immediately on the jacket that wasn’t hers.

She paused.

Glanced at Su Yang’s empty seat and the bag placed there.

She understood.

But she didn’t move.

Didn’t touch the jacket.

After a moment, she simply sat down, pulled out a textbook,

and began working on problems,

as if the jacket didn’t exist.

Su Yang’s legs grew stiff from waiting.

He didn’t know whether to go back or stay hidden.

If he returned, she might hand the jacket back immediately.

The evening study bell rang.

He had no choice.

Steeling himself, he walked back in.

He took his seat, pretending nothing had happened.

Ye Ruoxi never turned around.

But halfway through study hall,

from the corner of his eye, Su Yang saw it—

her hand reaching back,

gently lifting the jacket from the chair.

Then, with the lightest touch,

she spread it over her lap.

The motion was so careful,

as if afraid to startle a butterfly resting on a branch.

In that moment, Su Yang’s heart clenched with nervousness—

then swelled with an indescribable joy,

like drinking hot soup on a winter day,

warming him from his stomach straight to his soul.

He ducked his head, unable to suppress a smile.

This unspoken understanding became their secret.