After filling their stomachs, the two strolled around a bit more, and Shen An truly got to see quite a few novel gadgets.
Some were veritable antiques that had only appeared in his childhood memories.
Especially the street-side snacks—they instantly brought back the flavors of his youth.
When it was time to leave, he felt a bit reluctant, thinking to himself that he definitely had to come back next time. Though he wondered if Chen Nannan would still be by his side then.
Back in the South District, neither wanted to head to bed so soon.
So, taking the late shuttle, they naturally made their way to the rooftop of the Teaching Building in the Central District.
Compared to the previous night, Shen An was much more sensible this time. He didn’t get handsy at all. The moment they arrived, he sprawled out lazily, propping his head up with his hands, and gazed with keen interest at the twinkling stars overhead.
Chen Nannan sat quietly beside him. Though her eyes occasionally lingered on the beautiful night sky, they would stealthily shift to him from time to time.
It was something of a marvel, really.
Chen Nannan had always loved astronomy—watching the sunrise in the early morning, the sunset in the evening, and the stars and moon at night.
The ever-changing sky had been her best companion since early on, helping her through one bout of frustration after another on her journey to adulthood.
But ever since she met Shen An and their relationship grew closer…
The heavenly vistas had, for the first time, lost some of their allure in her eyes. They no longer captivated her with the same obsessive intensity as before.
It was as if, compared to the eternal stars, the person right beside her was far more worth cherishing.
Her glances were sneaky and discreet, or so she thought—but to Shen An, they were plain as day.
Every now and then, he would turn his head and chat with her.
Bathed in the cool moonlight, breathing in the fragrance carried by the breeze, listening to her soft murmurs, and sharing those chance smiles as their eyes met—they all drew him deeper into the moment.
At times like these, a simple conversation felt even more pleasant than flirtatious intimacy.
There was less scheming and calculation—just pure sharing of each other’s stories.
If fleeting physical touches were like fierce sieges and conquests, then this warm companionship and exchange was like securing territory and methodically bringing it under control.
As they talked, the conversation meandered from astronomy to geography, from grand philosophies to everyday minutiae, circling back inevitably to the Student Union.
The Student Union’s recruitment drive was over, which meant the school’s official “Freshman Welcome” events were about to begin.
These welcoming activities amounted to organizing various competitions, like the Freshman Basketball Cup that Yang Bin and Shen An had mentioned earlier.
Of course, it wasn’t just basketball—there would be a Freshman Football Cup, a Badminton Cup, and similar events for all the popular sports.
Those were the official school-side initiatives. On the unofficial side were the clubs’ own activities.
It was easy to foresee that the next month would give freshmen a full taste of campus life.
And the most important time of the year was this transition from welcoming the new to bidding farewell to the old—a cultural tradition rooted deep in ancient customs.
The school couldn’t combine them like the Spring Festival, so they were kept separate.
Freshman Welcome came at the start of the semester, while the farewell summary came at the end.
Though not merged, their importance went without saying.
The Freshman Welcome and the semester summary were the two biggest events of the academic year, involving everyone from the Student Union down to the clubs.
As the Club Federation Department President in the Student Union, Chen Nannan would remain swamped—perhaps even more so than during recruitment.
Other departments handled just one event apiece, but the Club Federation Department oversaw every club, meaning it was responsible for all their activities.
By incomplete count, there were nearly a hundred clubs.
The mere thought was enough to give anyone a headache.
Fortunately, the Club Federation had plenty of manpower—it likely recruited second only to the Art Troupe in the Student Union.
By Chen Nannan’s account, a proper tally would show a few hundred people.
But as the “brain” of the operation, she was the only President.
Ordinary Assistants could share the load among themselves, but she had to be cautious at every turn. A single mistake, and all the blame would land squarely on her shoulders first.
Shen An offered no empty reassurances—he trusted her to handle it.
Instead, he repeatedly urged her to get enough rest, not to worry about every little thing, and to take good care of herself.
But at his words, Chen Nannan just smiled.
Shen An looked puzzled. “What’s so funny, Senior Sister?”
Chen Nannan turned to him with a teasing glint. “I should be the one saying that to you.”
“Hah?”
“You don’t think the Art Troupe has less on its plate than our Club Federation, do you?”
She gave him a playful swat and murmured softly, “For big events like this, the Art Troupe is usually the real powerhouse.”
“There’ll be a Freshman Welcome Gala by month’s end—the most important event of them all.”
“And out of the ten projects, seven or eight will be handled by your Art Troupe.”
Shen An shrugged. “But I’m not the Troupe Leader. They can run their own events without me performing. I just handle the Office.”
The teasing curve of Chen Nannan’s lips deepened. “That’s why I said you still don’t truly understand what the Office does.”
“Isn’t it just passing messages up and down?”
“Exactly—its basic function is to convey orders. But what if those orders don’t get through from top to bottom? Or from bottom to top?”
As a former Office member herself, Chen Nannan revealed the department’s inner workings to Shen An one by one.
The Office was a peculiar department. On the surface, it seemed to handle nothing directly—just acting as a mouthpiece.
In truth, it had a hand in everything.
Every application from other departments had to pass through the Office.
Without the Office’s approval, no department’s event could proceed.
At the same time, the Office’s authority stemmed from the Troupe Leader backing it, which made the Office a vital buffer.
To illustrate the trio’s dynamic—though imperfectly—it was like the emperor, the prime minister, and the six ministries.
The emperor’s wishes didn’t always align with the ministries, and the ministries didn’t always fully obey the emperor.
When conflicts arose, the prime minister in the middle became crucial.
In the Art Troupe, the Troupe Leader was the emperor—with near-absolute power, but ultimately reliant on her subordinates to get things done.
Even in feudal times, an emperor’s decrees didn’t always carry through fully. Compared to that, what was a mere student Art Troupe Leader?
The other seven groups and four divisions were like the six ministries—nominally obedient to the Troupe Leader, but each with their own agendas.
This wasn’t baseless speculation.
Take the Dance Group, for example.
The Dance Group’s leader undoubtedly understood dance better than Zhao Qingyu did.
So for a dance event, whose advice would they follow—the more expert Group Leader’s, or Zhao Qingyu’s, the layman?
The more specialized a group, the stronger its independence.
The Office played the prime minister’s role, its primary task being to mediate between the two sides.
It ensured the Troupe Leader’s orders reached every department and were followed.
But when a department had its own views, the Office had to relay them upward—and if needed, persuade the Troupe Leader to compromise.
Handled well, the Office became indispensable; both the Troupe Leader and other leaders would rely on it to some degree.
Handled poorly, it was just a scapegoat—disliked by both sides and bearing all the losses.
After laying it all out, Chen Nannan smiled again. “Now you see why Senior Sister Zhao wanted to disband the Office the moment she took over?”
Shen An chuckled. “So she wants to be Zhu Yuanzhang, huh.”
“Hm?”
“Ah~ Now I get it.” Shen An sighed.
“Good. Senior Sister Zhao used to be the Office President herself—she knows full well how much it constrains the Troupe Leader.”
“Now that she’s the Troupe Leader, with her personality, she naturally won’t tolerate such a department under her.”
“Not a single member from the previous Office stayed on, and this term, she only recruited you three.”
“It’s nominally still there, but effectively disbanded.”
“Though I’m a bit puzzled myself,” Chen Nannan said, furrowing her brow. “If Senior Sister really didn’t want any restraints, why recruit you three at all?”
“And why give the Secretary position to you…”
Shen An narrowed his eyes. “If the emperor and prime minister stand together, the emperor’s authority is unshakable.”
Enlightenment dawned on Chen Nannan. “That makes a certain sense.”
“But this is just me talking out of my ass.”
Shen An waved it off. “Maybe she just wants power without the work—finding a controllable workhorse who can handle the grunt work for her.”
“And unfortunately, I became that workhorse.”
Pfft~
Chen Nannan covered her mouth and giggled. “Your thinking is awfully pessimistic. Didn’t you say at first that she values you?”
“Heh, I’ve seen through it now.”
Shen An crossed his legs. “I was just starting to feel relieved, like I’d survived the hardest part.”
“But after hearing you, I realize my real trials are only beginning.”
“Caught between both sides… what a pain.”
Shen An thought for a moment, then suddenly looked at Chen Nannan with utmost seriousness. “How about we just bail?”
“?”
“Senior Sister, don’t give me that look. My spot is obviously a thankless job, and she’s not even paying me a salary. Why not just cut and run?”
Shen An adopted a devil-may-care attitude. “Worst case, we transfer schools. She’s not some real emperor who can dictate life and death with a word.”
Chen Nannan gave him a light punch and said softly, “What emperor? You’re exaggerating.”
“It just sounds intimidating on the surface. In reality, hardly anyone actually cares.”
“Take the Student Union, for example. The Vice President doesn’t micromanage everything. Most of the time, it’s up to us department presidents to make the calls ourselves.”
Shen An muttered in rebuttal, “Xu Yijing might just be playing hard to get.”
Chen Nannan narrowed her eyes. “Can you speak up a bit? Otherwise, I’ll think you’re talking smack about me behind my back.”
“I’m straight-up talking smack about you, Senior Sister.”
Shen An said it with a straight face.
“?” Chen Nannan’s eyes sharpened, a hint of fierceness flashing in them. “Oh yeah? What smack are you talking?”
“I’m saying you’re too heartless, Senior Sister.”
Shen An sounded utterly dejected. “You just callously crushed my dream of slacking off.”
“If you hadn’t told me, it’d be one thing. But now that you have, I’ll have to watch my every step from here on out.”
Chen Nannan let out a cute huff. “That’s not heartless at all. You should be careful no matter what.”
“I don’t care… I picked the Art Troupe because I thought it’d have the least work.”
Chen Nannan chuckled. “Wasn’t it because all the cute girls are there?”
“Of course not! I went for the easy ride, but it turned out to be the busiest department of all.”
Shen An rolled onto his side and playfully grabbed the hem of Chen Nannan’s skirt.
The fabric tugged gently in his grasp. Chen Nannan’s pretty face flushed red, and she hurriedly pressed his hand down, fixing him with a stern gaze.
Shen An pouted. “Just a little tug. I’m not flipping it up or anything.”
Chen Nannan grew even more embarrassed and annoyed. She punched him squarely.
“Oof…”
Shen An deflated once more. He rolled onto his side and let out a sigh.
Chen Nannan found it amusing. This guy… he was acting just like a spoiled kid, playing the pity card when he couldn’t get his way.
“Don’t sigh like that. It’s starting to bum me out too.”
“Senior Sister, you have no idea… my trial by fire has already begun.”
“?” Chen Nannan looked puzzled. “What happened? The Art Troupe hasn’t announced the Freshman Welcome activities yet, has it?”
“It has.”
Shen An sounded wistful. “This weekend, Senior Sister Zhao wants us to hold a big group gathering.”
“A freshman party? That’s pretty standard. Our department’s planning one for the weekend too.”
“No, Senior Sister Zhao wants us to clear our schedules and head out for a two-day getaway.”
“Huh?” Chen Nannan blinked in surprise. “Go out? Like where?”
“Yeah, something like a short vacation, even if it’s only two days.”
“Hmm, that’s actually a solid idea,” Chen Nannan mused.
A simple meal couldn’t compare to a getaway like that for building camaraderie.
But the issue was…
Chen Nannan suddenly caught on. “We might not get full attendance, though.”
“Exactly. What if people don’t show?”
Shen An shrugged. “You think, with Senior Sister Zhao’s personality, she’ll just let no-shows slide?”
“Uh…” Chen Nannan ventured carefully, “You don’t need to worry that much, actually.”
“Senior Sister Zhao might get upset, but she can’t really punish anyone over it.”
“The Student Union rules still bind her too.”
Shen An stared at the sky in exasperation. “I know she can’t punish them outright, but she can dump it all on me…”
“Especially since the Office is basically there to take the heat.”
“If she piles on a few hellish tasks afterward and I can’t say no, but then screw them up? I’ll be her personal stress ball.”
Chen Nannan couldn’t hold back her laughter at his forlorn expression. She let out a giggle.
Shen An gaped at her in disbelief. “Senior Sister, you’re actually laughing?”
“It’s not so bad.”
The corners of Chen Nannan’s mouth curved up. “It’ll toughen you up a bit.”
“Proof positive: women are heartless, cold-blooded creatures.” Shen An delivered his sage verdict.
Chen Nannan pursed her lips and muttered, “So, what’s your plan?”
“Bail.”
“No way. You can’t just dodge a little setback!”
“Then I’ll go full slacker mode.” Shen An grinned lightly. “If I can’t dodge the storm, might as well make it hit harder.”
Such bold words.
But what did slacking off have to do with storms?
“Senior Sister, don’t just sit there. Come on, lie down—it’s clearer this way.”
“Heh.”
“I swear I’ll be good!”
Chen Nannan rolled her eyes at him. Even so, she smoothed out her skirt and gently lay down beside him.
“See? Way better view now, right?”
From this angle, Shen An’s voice seemed to drift down from the heavens, yet it felt whispered right against her ear.
Chen Nannan’s thoughts grew a little hazy. “Mm~”
“What’s that star?”
“The Big Dipper.”
“Oh, their pattern’s kinda weird.”
“It’s a constellation…”
They chatted idly about the stars for a good while.
Chen Nannan suddenly turned onto her side, gazing at his profile. “Are you really that worried Senior Sister Zhao will take it out on you?”
Shen An paused, meeting her concerned eyes. He spoke softly, “Truth is, I just wanted to talk with you. I’m not scared of her.”
“Liar.” Chen Nannan pouted. “You totally are.”
Shen An chuckled helplessly and reached out to ruffle her silky hair. “Okay, maybe I am scared of her. But I’m even more scared of you.”
“Scared of me?”
“Yeah. Scared you won’t stick around with me till dawn.” Shen An’s fingers trailed from the tips of her hair to her cheek.
Chen Nannan’s heart skipped a beat, shyness washing over her. “Are you dumb? Lying out here all night—you’ll catch a cold.”
“And we’ve got classes tomorrow!”
She had plenty of excuses, but “I don’t want to” wasn’t one of them.
Shen An narrowed his eyes. “I meant next time…”
“Next time, on a day with no classes. I’ll bring blankets and everything. Will you lie here with me until dawn?”
Chen Nannan turned her face away slightly, dodging his gaze.
A long moment passed before her soft voice replied, “We’ll talk about it then.”
