Cold

On Friday, Su Ming felt a little headache coming on. As usual, when it struck, she lay down on the lemon-yellow leather sofa, which seated three. Her head rested on a white lace cushion embroidered with flowers. No one knew what was inside it, but it rustled softly whenever she moved. Across from her, Huang Anqi sat upright in a chair, holding paper and pen. Looking thoughtful, she asked seriously, “Do you think you're beautiful?” Su Ming sighed. “You've asked me that so many times already.”...