The car drove slowly, hitting the morning rush hour rush. It took about four hours to finally reach the school.
Along the way, Zhao Qingyu was jostled about, thoroughly uncomfortable.
It wasn’t bumpy roads or poor driving—it was purely because of Shen An on her lap.
She kept fussing over him, worried he wasn’t comfortable.
So Zhao Qingyu tirelessly tried to stay steady. Sometimes she didn’t need to move at all, but she overthought it, feeling it wasn’t stable enough.
In the end, she couldn’t sleep or even check her phone.
But oddly, in those four hours, Zhao Qingyu never felt bored once. Every time she looked down at Shen An in her lap—even though her knit top covered his face, leaving only a fuzzy outline—she inexplicably found joy in it.
Anyone with eyes could see Zhao Qingyu was falling deeper and deeper.
A girl’s infatuation was like that—little by little, drawing her heart into the whirlpool. The longer they spent together, the richer her emotions and investment became.
Hence the classic saying: When a romance begins, a boy’s affection is like a sudden storm—intense at first, but quick to fade.
A girl’s is like a gentle drizzle—no torrential downpour, but endless and accumulating over time.
By the time the boy’s feelings wane into fatigue, the girl is loving at her peak, ready to pour everything in.
At the school gates, the driver’s voice quietly interrupted Zhao Qingyu’s immersed thoughts.
“Miss, we’re here.”
So soon?
Zhao Qingyu blinked. “Are we at the school entrance?”
“Yes. Should I pull over here?”
“No, loop around to the North District. It’s easier from there.”
“Got it.”
This partition only blocked the view—it didn’t muffle sound.
Shen An, whose head was pillowed on her lap, had actually woken up half an hour ago.
Or rather, he hadn’t fully fallen asleep at all during those four hours.
He had slept too much over the past few days, and no matter how hard he tried to find some drowsiness, he just couldn’t drift off completely.
So along the way, he had been in a hazy state—feeling like he was asleep, yet with his consciousness fully alert.
Compared to Zhao Qingyu’s complete immersion, he found the time downright torturous.
He couldn’t move around freely, couldn’t play on his phone, and couldn’t even sleep.
When he heard the driver’s words, he finally breathed a sigh of relief: We’re finally here.
The large hand pressed against Zhao Qingyu’s waist twitched slightly, drawing her attention.
Awake?
She lowered her head and patted his back.
Shen An didn’t make a sound, but he announced his wakefulness in an extremely ambiguous way: his cheek was buried under Zhao Qingyu’s knit top, and when he opened his eyes, he was face-to-face with her fair, flat abdomen.
Zhao Qingyu couldn’t see his face, which allowed him to boldly part his lips and flick his tongue over her cute little navel.
Hiss.
Zhao Qingyu trembled instantly, letting out an involuntary low moan.
“Miss?”
The driver up front heard the noise and asked with concern.
“It’s nothing. I just got bitten by a mosquito,” Zhao Qingyu replied, her face flushing as her small hand secretly pinched Shen An, explaining softly.
A mosquito?
The driver was puzzled. The windows were closed, and the AC was on.
Were mosquitoes this fierce these days?
Zhao Qingyu’s pinch was neither too light nor too heavy—it felt like a tickle to Shen An.
The corner of his mouth curved up, and he grew even bolder in teasing her navel.
His tongue tip glided over her flat abdomen, faintly tasting the fragrance of her skin.
Zhao Qingyu bit her lip, enduring the thrilling sensations rippling through her body.
She didn’t dare make a sound, yet she didn’t really want to push Shen An away either.
In the midst of this torment, the driver had already driven past the school gates and arrived at the entrance to the North District.
He pulled to a stop and said softly, “Miss, we’re here.”
Zhao Qingyu felt like she had been granted amnesty. She hurriedly patted Shen An’s shoulder. “Get up quick—we’ve arrived!”
Shen An was a bit reluctant and wanted to keep playing dumb to savor the moment, so he replied in a groggy voice, “We’ve arrived?”
“Mm-hm.”
She carefully lifted her knit top, then gave him no chance to react before grabbing his ear and yanking him upright.
Once Shen An sat up, she pressed the button for the rear partition, letting it slowly descend.
By the time the driver glanced back, Shen An and Zhao Qingyu were each sitting on opposite sides of the car, the picture of propriety.
Their reactions were both quite amusing.
Shen An stared out the left window, while Zhao Qingyu fixed her gaze on the right one, both desperately trying to pretend nothing had happened during the ride.
The driver noticed the flush on Zhao Qingyu’s cheeks that she couldn’t hide, and he chuckled to himself.
“We’re here. Do you need me to help carry your luggage inside?”
The driver was ever dutiful.
Or rather, he was deliberately providing cover.
“No need—he can handle it,” Zhao Qingyu said, poking Shen An.
“Yeah, I got it. Thanks so much for the ride,” Shen An quickly thanked the driver.
The driver grinned. “No trouble at all. If anything, you’ve been the one putting up with it, taking care of our young miss all this time.”
He was an old retainer of the Zhao Family. In a way, though he was Zhao Qingyu’s personal driver, he was also like an elder to her.
Not just anyone could serve as a personal driver, after all.
In ancient times, those who guarded the family head and drove their carriages were often the most trusted confidants.
So his words weren’t out of line—they even carried a subtle note of approval for Shen An.
Shen An and the driver exchanged a smile, sharing a knowing look that only men would understand.
Zhao Qingyu’s face turned beet red, and she snapped in embarrassment, “Get out of the car already!”
“Alright, alright.”
Shen An opened the door and got out first.
As soon as he stepped out, he stretched lazily and eyed the somewhat unfamiliar surroundings with a hint of hesitation.
Zhao Qingyu followed right behind him. Spotting the uncertainty in his eyes, she said coolly, “This is the entrance to the North District.”
“The North District, huh~” Shen An immediately understood and chuckled lightly. “I was actually thinking of sneaking out this way to take a look around earlier.”
“So that’s how it is.”
He glanced around and realized the scenery here was completely different from the school’s North District.
This area felt more like a private residential zone.
“Hurry up and grab your luggage.”
Zhao Qingyu urged him impatiently.
“Hey, can you give me a second to catch my breath?” Shen An grumbled as he obediently went to the trunk and pulled out both their bags.
The two of them waved to the driver, watching as he drove off.
Even after the car vanished around the corner, Shen An stood there motionless, rubbing his chin.
Seeing this, Zhao Qingyu kicked his leg. “Let’s go.”
Shen An turned to her. “Can’t you be a little gentler?”
Zhao Qingyu snorted, crossing her arms as she regarded him coolly. “I’ve never been this gentle with anyone before—especially not some shameless, perverted jerk.”
Well, she wasn’t wrong.
Pulling Zhao Qingyu’s suitcase while slinging his backpack over his shoulder, Shen An walked with her through the entrance and back into the school’s Apartment District.
“Senior Sister, where do you live?”
Shen An asked.
Zhao Qingyu stopped once they reached the Apartment District and pointed to the building beside her.
“Seems kinda far.”
Shen An narrowed his eyes. “If I’m not mistaken, this has gotta be the farthest building in the student housing area, right?”
“Isn’t farther better? It’s nice and quiet.”
Zhao Qingyu pursed her lips.
“Fine, as long as Senior Sister likes it, anywhere’s good.” Shen An grinned and prepared to hand her luggage over.
Zhao Qingyu didn’t budge, simply watching him silently.
She said nothing, but the eager plea in her eyes spoke volumes.
Shen An sighed and kept pulling the suitcase, accompanying Zhao Qingyu into the apartment building.
The elevator rose and stopped at the thirteenth floor.
Zhao Qingyu stepped out and halted right in front of the first door.
1301…
Shen An inwardly clicked his tongue. Zhao Qingyu’s room number was exactly the same as Xu Yijing’s.
Both lived in 1301.
A coincidence?
If it was just a coincidence, why did even the door decorations match perfectly?
Zhao Qingyu smiled enigmatically. “Feels kinda familiar, doesn’t it?”
“A little.”
Shen An said softly, “If I didn’t know this wasn’t Building D, I’d think this was my apartment.”
Zhao Qingyu narrowed her eyes. “That’s not your apartment. It’s Xu Yijing’s.”
“Uh, I live there too.”
“You’re just crashing there.”
“Still, it’s 1301.”
“Hmm, sounds like you really like it.” A cold smile tugged at Zhao Qingyu’s lips.
“No, no.” Shen An shook his head frantically. “It’s not up to me. I’m just happy to have a place to stay.”
“I thought I’d end up in the dorms.”
“So if you had to choose now—apartment or dorm?”
Zhao Qingyu asked slyly, her words laced with a hidden edge.
Shen An chuckled lightly, brushing it off. “I’ve been living here a month already. You think I can just move to the dorms now?”
“Who says you can’t?”
Zhao Qingyu’s eyes weren’t just alluringly fox-like—they were sharp and perceptive too.
They seemed to speak, piercing straight through to Shen An’s thoughts.
“If you want to live in the dorms, I can arrange it for you.”
She stepped closer, pinching his chin. “How about it? Want to?”
“I… I’m kinda socially anxious. I don’t think I’d get along with roommates.”
“Pfft, you’re socially anxious?” Zhao Qingyu laughed as if she’d heard the funniest joke. “You’re living with a roommate right now.”
“Or do you just like your current roommate that much?”
“Senior Sister, maybe we can talk about this next time.” Shen An tried to change the subject.
“Next time?”
Zhao Qingyu frowned, catching the hint of dismissal in his words. “Didn’t you say you wanted to leave your mark in every one of my homes?”
“I do, but I’m kinda tired right now.”
Shen An drooped his head, feigning exhaustion.
“There’s a bed at my place.”
Zhao Qingyu’s words were boldly direct. “And it’s a big one.”
She reached out and rubbed his cheek, her tone laced with seductive charm. “More than comfy enough for two people.”
Hiss.
Shen An instinctively took a step back. “Another day—definitely another day.”
“At least come in for a cup of tea.” Zhao Qingyu pouted. “Otherwise, someone might accuse me of being stingy.”
“I think it’s better if I head back first.”
Shen An was starting to panic now.
He could feel Zhao Qingyu’s advances growing more aggressive—she no longer cared about maintaining her poise.
She tossed out such bold, predatory lines as if they were the most natural thing in the world.
Zhao Qingyu narrowed her eyes, her expression turning displeased.
She hated the feeling of rejection.
Especially from Shen An!
“So you’re that hung up on your roommate?” she said sarcastically.
“Why would I be? She never gives me the time of day.” Shen An shrugged. “I’m just tired, and I’ve got class later anyway.”
“Skip it.”
Zhao Qingyu left him no room to escape. “Wang Yuqiong’s your class president. I’ve already asked her to cover for you with a day’s absence.”
It looked like there was no way out.
Shen An released his grip on the suitcase handle and took hold of Zhao Qingyu’s hand instead.
She twisted her hand shyly for a moment before accepting it without pulling away.
“Actually, I’m not tired,” he said.
His eyes met hers with utter sincerity, his tone equally earnest. “I just think we both need a chance to cool our heads.”
“I’m perfectly calm,” Zhao Qingyu replied, her brows furrowing.
“No, no, no. Right now, you’re just convincing yourself that you’re calm.”
Shen An spoke softly. “Too much has happened these past couple of days. It’s not something you can sort out in a moment.”
“If I step into your apartment now, it’ll only cloud your judgment even more.”
“I don’t want to do that.”
He paused, then lowered his voice. “Once you’ve sorted through your thoughts and cooled down completely—if you still want me there, I won’t hesitate for a second.”
Zhao Qingyu opened her mouth to argue, but the sincerity in his eyes left her momentarily stunned.
As long as the ambiguity lingered, her emotions would keep overriding her reason.
“And Senior Sister, you know something?”
Shen An’s lips curved into a gentle smile. “If I really crossed your threshold, do you think I’d stop at just having a cup of tea?”
“I don’t think you’re ready for that yet, are you?”
Zhao Qingyu pressed her lips together and fell silent.
“It’s fine,” he continued. “Like I said before, we have plenty of time to build more trust.”
Shen An hooked his little finger around hers. “Trust that’s just between us.”
“I know you’ll come to trust me, Senior Sister. Right?”
“Hmph, full of hot air.” Zhao Qingyu turned her head away. “Then get lost and go rest. I don’t want to see you right now.”
“Ha~ You’re so heartless.”
Shen An feigned disappointment.
“Are you going or not?” Zhao Qingyu swung open her apartment door. “If not, then get in here.”
“I’m going, going right now.”
Shen An spun on his heel without delay.
Before stepping into the elevator, though, he called out warmly, “You should get some sleep too, Senior Sister—even without me there.”
Zhao Qingyu waved him off irritably. “You talk too much. I’ll fall asleep faster without you around.”
“Here’s hoping.”
Shen An’s lips quirked up again. He waved goodbye as the elevator doors slid shut.
The elevator descended floor by floor. Zhao Qingyu puffed out her cheeks and muttered under her breath, “Sly fox.”
But deep down…
She truly wasn’t fully prepared yet.
At least not right now.
His reminder had brought some of her reason back online.
Of course, she still believed the problem lay with him, not her.
He was just too cunning, always dodging at the crucial moment.
She wasn’t ready to admit defeat yet—couldn’t he at least pretend to?
Or was it…
Zhao Qingyu’s expression turned icy.
Once he was gone, she did calm down.
