“Does it really take that long just to grab a suitcase?”
Wang Yuqiong leaned against one of the pavilion’s pillars, gripping her phone tightly. She watched Shen An with a mix of resentment and predatory intent, like a girlfriend playfully chiding her boyfriend.
She had silently counted the time from when he left until he returned.
Five minutes.
For a distance of less than two hundred meters!
Was this some quirky way of acting spoiled?
Shen An chuckled helplessly. “I was just giving you a bit more time to rest, so I wouldn’t disturb you.”
With that, he set the two suitcases down beside the pillar and took a seat.
Wang Yuqiong subtly lifted her long leg and shifted it to the side, deliberately leaving some space as a hint that he could sit closer.
But Shen An didn’t take the bait. Instead, he asked with concern, “Feeling better?”
“Worse, actually.” Wang Yuqiong let out a soft huff.
“How could that be?” Shen An cautiously reached out to touch her forehead. The temperature had returned to normal.
“It’s much better now. At least it’s not as cold as before.”
“Really? I still feel chilly.” Wang Yuqiong hugged her arms and curled up tightly.
Shen An looked troubled. “I’m only wearing a short-sleeved shirt—I can’t exactly take it off for you. Should I go back up and grab another one?”
Like hell!
Wang Yuqiong shot him an annoyed glare, puffed out her cheeks, and turned her head away. Her small hand lightly patted the empty spot on her thigh beside her.
“Hm?”
Shen An blinked in confusion.
Wang Yuqiong avoided his gaze, but the patting quickened, as if urging him to sit already.
“Cramp?” Shen An played dumb, but he didn’t keep her waiting.
Slowly, he took her small hand in his and rubbed it gently against his chest.
“It does feel a bit cold. How about we head to the school infirmary after all?”
He massaged her hand tenderly, trying to transfer his warmth to her palm.
Though Wang Yuqiong still resented his obliviousness, the heat seeping into her palm made it impossible to voice her complaints.
She thought it over. Sure, he was a bit dense, but that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing.
If he were too sharp, it might cause even more trouble.
Besides, dense or not, he was still thoughtful and attentive where it counted.
Having talked herself around, Wang Yuqiong forgave his clumsiness and even started to appreciate it.
“No need.”
She shook her head softly. “I’m not sick. I was just a little worked up earlier.”
“Then why did you get so worked up all of a sudden?”
Shen An looked at her curiously. “Do you have some beef with Senior Sister Xu?”
Wang Yuqiong tilted her head, a playful smile tugging at her lips. “How’d you know it’s beef? Maybe it’s just excitement from seeing an old friend after so long.”
Shen An snorted. “Come on. Excited? You looked like you were about to pass out.”
Wang Yuqiong smiled without denying it.
She tilted her head back to gaze at the starry sky. In a soft voice, she said, “Some things are better left unknown. Knowing them would only make it harder for you.”
Shen An paused, about to speak, but Wang Yuqiong seemed to read his mind and added, “I don’t want to put you in a tough spot.”
“Fine, I won’t get involved in whatever grudge you girls have.”
Shen An shrugged, signaling he was dropping it.
Worried he might be upset, Wang Yuqiong said earnestly, “It’s not that I don’t want to tell you—it’s that I really can’t.”
“Got it.”
Shen An nodded with a smile. “Don’t worry, I’m not hung up on it. I know what matters.”
“Though I can be a bit carefree at times.”
Wang Yuqiong’s heart lifted, and she smiled faintly. “Good that you know.”
Shen An lowered his head, focusing on rubbing her slender hand.
Tall people usually had proportionally long hands, especially slender fingers.
But beauty wasn’t just about length and slimness—the nails mattered too.
Some preferred short nails for their neat, compact appeal.
Shen An, however, didn’t like short nails. They looked bulky and cramped, as if crammed to the brim.
He preferred longer ones.
Here, “longer” didn’t mean overgrown; it meant nails that extended just right from the fingertip, stopping at the creases without spilling over.
He especially loved the elegant rectangular shape—square and refined, with a unique grace that complemented slender fingers. From knuckle to nail tip, it was pure allure.
The same went for toenails.
At around five foot eleven, Wang Yuqiong naturally had delicate fingers, and her nails hit Shen An’s aesthetic perfectly: elegant rectangles, trimmed neatly without sharp edges, hugging the finger creases. Under the bright moonlight, her hand’s pale, pinkish skin was on full display, veins faintly visible.
She was made for modeling.
Runway, legs, hands—flawless.
The more he looked, the more Shen An liked it.
He couldn’t help praising her. “Your hands are beautiful.”
A faint blush colored Wang Yuqiong’s cheeks, but she showed no resistance or distaste.
Emboldened, Shen An massaged even more gently, targeting her joints and pressure points. An occasional firmer press brought not pain, but a tingling ache that dissolved into soothing comfort.
He rubbed on, and she watched on.
With his head bowed, everything below his nose was shrouded in shadow, indistinct.
Moonlight bathed his forehead, illuminating his deep eyes and the unabashed adoration within.
She found him so gentle. All the usual bickering faded away, leaving only this image of him—head lowered, brows soft—etched in her heart.
Bathed in moonlight, his gaze was tender, and so was hers.
Wang Yuqiong cherished these warm moments.
If every day ahead brought this feeling from someone, she’d fall completely in love before she knew it.
It was like taking a bullet straight to the heart—swift collapse, no resistance, not even the will to fight it.
But warmth was always fleeting.
Wang Yuqiong had nearly forgotten Chen Nannan’s existence.
Until Chen Nannan approached the pavilion, holding a bottle of hot water, and softly interrupted. “Feeling better?”
Irritation flashed deep in Wang Yuqiong’s eyes, quickly turning to anger as she glared at Chen Nannan.
Fortunately, Chen Nannan wasn’t watching her. Her gaze fixed on Shen An—on their intertwined hands.
In that brief glance, her own hand clenched the hot water bottle tight.
An indescribable sourness flooded her, but she quickly suppressed it.
She reminded herself that Wang Yuqiong was the patient right now.
He wasn’t taking advantage; he was just rubbing her hands to help.
Maybe Yuqiong had bumped them?
She shouldn’t blow little things out of proportion. At least in front of Wang Yuqiong, she had to play the good senior sister.
Shen An, ever perceptive, explained, “She’s better, but her hands are still cold, so I’m rubbing them to get the blood flowing.”
Satisfied with the answer, Chen Nannan stepped closer. “Have some hot water. That should warm you up.”
“Mm.”
Shen An released Wang Yuqiong’s hand, took the bottle from Chen Nannan, unscrewed it, and passed it to Wang Yuqiong.
Wang Yuqiong took it with a beaming smile, tilted back her graceful neck, and gulped down a big mouthful.
She was thirsty, after all.
Thirsty from the tangle of wild desires and racing thoughts.
“Whew~”
She let out an exaggerated sigh of relief, then handed the bottle back to Chen Nannan. “Much better. Thanks, Senior Sister.”
“Whew~” Chen Nannan exhaled in relief too. Seeing color return to Wang Yuqiong’s face, she patted her chest. “You scared me.”
Then she added, “Let’s head back to the dorm and lie down. No good staying out here in the breeze.”
Wang Yuqiong blinked and instinctively glanced at Shen An.
Of course she’d go back.
But Chen Nannan beat him to it. “I’ll walk you back. Better to have someone with you.”
“As for you, you can handle the suitcases.”
She grinned lightly at Shen An.
Shen An shrugged. “Born to work, I guess~”
“Pfft~”
Chen Nannan playfully swatted his shoulder. “What ‘born to work’? This is just being a good Samaritan. Yuqiong’s your class president, after all.”
“Yes, yes.”
Shen An laughed and stood, grabbing the two suitcases.
Chen Nannan took over his role, placing her small hand on Wang Yuqiong’s shoulder to help her up.
Wang Yuqiong pressed her lips together but said nothing as she rose.
And so the three headed toward the East District.
Shen An trailed silently behind while Chen Nannan supported Wang Yuqiong up front.
The two women ahead seemed to chat amiably, but Shen An knew it was all fake laughter.
Zhao Qingyu was right—women were natural performers.
All for the sake of decorum, face, restraint, and pride. Even seething inside, they’d grit their teeth, smile, and play nice.
Shen An was perfectly content, which left him plenty of leisure to appreciate the two women’s superb acting skills.
He wondered if this made him a bad person.
They had originally been a pair of senior-junior sisters on good terms—close enough, perhaps, to become best friends.
Hmm~
Shen An appropriately reined in a bit of his self-admiration.
He might have influenced the relationship between the two women somewhat, but surely not to this extent.
Or maybe he had.
Still, when confronted with a situation like this, it was best to maintain a touch of humility.
If he grew overly confident, he could easily end up looking like a fool.
That was why Shen An was always so cautious.
Every romance felt like walking a tightrope to him, even after all the times he had done it.
The night was not yet late; the last bus was still running.
The three of them boarded it and soon arrived from the North District to the East District.
Shen An was naturally “barred from entering the girls’ dormitory,” so he handed the two suitcases to Chen Nannan. Then, empty-handed, he stood at the dorm entrance, waiting for her to come back down.
“Yuqiong, do you want me to help you call in sick?”
Chen Nannan asked with genuine concern.
Wang Yuqiong could now walk on her own without Chen Nannan’s support.
Or more accurately, she had never needed it in the first place.
In the face of Chen Nannan’s openly caring attitude, the resentment in Wang Yuqiong’s heart eased a little. She even felt a twinge of guilt.
Sure, the senior sister had ruined her moment…
But she truly hadn’t meant any harm.
“No need.” She shook her head and said softly, “I’ll be fine after I go back and rest.”
“Mm. Anyway, take it easy and don’t push yourself.”
Chen Nannan cautioned her.
“Okay.” Wang Yuqiong nodded again.
“By the way, your Art Troupe interview went smoothly, right?” Chen Nannan asked casually.
“Hmm~” Wang Yuqiong thought for a moment, a playful smile curving her lips. “Barring any surprises, I should be joining the new session of the Art Troupe.”
“Really!” Chen Nannan smiled too. “Your first choice was the Office, wasn’t it?”
“Yes.”
“The Office, huh…” Chen Nannan mused. “I heard they’ve disbanded its structure.”
“Seems that way.”
Wang Yuqiong was familiar with the Office’s situation as well.
Ever since Zhao Qingyu had become Deputy Troupe Leader, she seemed determined to avoid repeating Xu Yijing’s mistakes. She had kept the Office as little more than a hollow name, scrambling its internal organization entirely.
Otherwise, Qi Taili wouldn’t have to juggle her role as Singing Group Leader with being Office Director.
To put it bluntly, the Office now resembled a privy council—Zhao Qingyu’s personal one.
She had scattered every former member to other departments, turning them into her eyes and ears while borrowing those departments’ frameworks to keep the Office from gaining too much power.
“Then you’ve got a tough road ahead.”
Chen Nannan sighed, offering a friendly bit of advice. “Just be careful, okay?”
Wang Yuqiong smiled but said nothing.
After escorting Wang Yuqiong back to the dorm and giving her a thorough round of instructions, Chen Nannan finally left.
Brushing off the other girls’ concerned questions, Wang Yuqiong made her way to the balcony and glanced downward.
She saw Shen An standing quietly downstairs.
Then Chen Nannan walked off with him.
Wang Yuqiong’s eyes narrowed slightly. That faint guilt vanished in an instant, replaced by thick suspicion.
Chen Nannan…
