The next morning, not even six o’clock yet, a burst of crisp piano notes jolted Shen An awake from his sleep.
He irritably opened his eyes and glanced at the clock on the bedside table. “Five-thirty..”
What the hell.
He sighed and gave up on the idea of confronting Xu Yijing. Closing his eyes, he tried to catch a bit more sleep.
Around six-thirty, he dragged himself out of bed, got dressed, and prepared breakfast for himself.
Yes, he hadn’t made any for Xu Yijing.
By seven o’clock, Shen An had finished his breakfast. Xu Yijing, having completed her morning routine, silently made her way from the hallway into the living room.
“Morning,” Shen An said proactively.
Xu Yijing raised an eyebrow. “Morning.”
She stepped into the kitchen and instinctively glanced into the pot, only to find it empty.
Tch.
Inwardly, Xu Yijing grumbled to herself—what was so special about it anyway? If he wasn’t going to make any, fine.
She turned around and opened the fridge.
But when she did, she discovered that the bread from before had been tossed out by Shen An, and she hadn’t bought any new loaves last night.
This…
Shen An’s voice rang out at just the right moment. “Why don’t you head to the cafeteria? Their breakfast is pretty good.”
“No need.”
With a stern expression, Xu Yijing brushed past Shen An, grabbed her small bag, and left the apartment.
Good grief…
Shen An frowned slightly. Her stomach problems were no joke.
Hmm~ She couldn’t even muster a single soft word.
He shook his head, quietly finished his own breakfast, picked up his textbooks, and headed out.
On the way, he even had time to send Song Rui a voice call to wake her up.
The moment Song Rui picked up his voice call, she was completely dazed.
What on earth had happened?
Back in the classroom, the empty room was perfect for a nap.
Shen An let out a yawn and flopped down onto his desk.
When the morning classes finally wrapped up, the four of them headed together to the Art Troupe to continue working on their respective tasks.
The schedule was noticeably tighter now than it had been right after enrollment. Even with Shen An’s efficient work pace, he found himself bogged down by miscellaneous chores.
Things like coordinating schedules for other departments, checking progress, and communicating with the Student Union.
Shen Lianyao and Song Rui still hadn’t finished collecting class schedules, so all that work had piled up on Shen An’s plate.
He split his time between visiting the departments under his responsibility and tackling those odds and ends whenever he had a free moment.
The day flew by in a blur.
That evening back at the apartment, Shen An and Xu Yijing continued their mutual torment.
She had bought a new fridge—and, with clear provocation, stocked it with a full case of drinks.
Shen An, for his part, dismantled the range hood right in front of her, meticulously inspecting each component.
As for the mornings, Xu Yijing’s practice sessions were starting earlier and earlier. Yesterday it had been five-thirty; today, she was up at five. It felt like an escalating arms race.
Shen An harbored no grudges, though. He still prepared breakfast for her.
But he was leaving the apartment even earlier now. By the time Xu Yijing finished washing up, he had already eaten and headed to class.
When she reached the kitchen and saw the breakfast he had left for her in the pot, she quietly set aside her bread and accepted it with honest gratitude.
Then another day slipped past.
Nothing particularly new happened over the next few days.
Shen An spent his days buried in work at the Art Troupe and his evenings locked in this back-and-forth with Xu Yijing.
Curiously, during those days at the Art Troupe, the door to the rest room remained firmly shut.
Shen An didn’t catch sight of Zhao Qingyu anywhere.
He refrained from reaching out to her proactively, not wanting to disturb whatever she was dealing with.
He didn’t ask Yu Wen or the others about her, either.
The classes they had selected wouldn’t start for a while yet—not until after the upcoming holiday, the week after next.
At the same time, these past few days, he hadn’t been chatting with Chen Nannan every evening like he used to.
Strictly speaking, aside from Chen Nannan’s occasional classroom inspections, he and she had no other chances to meet or even talk.
And so things continued until Friday afternoon.
He was in the office, inputting the final bits of information.
All the personal class schedules for the departments under his watch had been collected. The office wasn’t empty—Song Rui was there too.
She had finished gathering the info for her own departments.
Only Shen Lianyao was lagging behind.
Her progress had ground to a halt since Wednesday. There were still two people left in the Dance Group whose info she hadn’t collected.
The Street Dance Group and Musical Instruments Group had plenty of stragglers who hadn’t submitted theirs yet, either.
She wasn’t in the office at the moment; she was still out chasing down the missing details.
Suddenly, his phone buzzed with an incoming voice call.
More precisely, it was from Chen Nannan.
Shen An glanced at the screen and casually answered.
Song Rui, sitting nearby, heard the sound. She paused her typing and sneakily glanced over at him.
“Hey? Senior Sister,” Shen An said with his usual enthusiasm. To Chen Nannan, though, it sounded a touch more distant, a bit less genuine.
“Class over?” she asked softly.
Shen An chuckled. “Oh come on, no seventh or eighth period today. Did you forget, Senior Sister?”
Chen Nannan replied flatly, “It’s not my class. Why would I keep track?”
“Tsk, and here I thought you’d memorized our schedules too.”
“So you’re free right now?” she pressed.
“Yep. What’s up?”
“This holiday—got any plans?”
Her question was tentative, her calm tone laced with a faint undercurrent of hope.
Yes, the holiday.
After Friday came five straight days off, extending through the weekend for a full seven days.
The School Welcoming Gala was scheduled for the weekend after next.
The school had already issued notices for the Student Union departments to prepare, along with the lineup for twelve performances.
The Art Troupe had gotten lucky: aside from the Host Group, all six Performance Groups had been selected, claiming six of the slots.
Strictly speaking, the Host Group wasn’t a Performance Group; they handled emcees and such.
So all seven of the Art Troupe’s groups needed to gear up.
The regular departments existed to support those seven.
That included budgets, logistics, and more—which had been Shen An’s main workload that week.
The Drama Group still hadn’t settled on a performance or even selected their people, which was highly unusual compared to previous years.
“Heh, what plans? I’ve got overtime.”
Shen An had already picked up on her intentions from the probing.
“Overtime?” Chen Nannan sounded surprised.
“Yeah, tons of work. I’m planning to use the holiday to power through it. Don’t want to drag it out afterward.”
Plenty of people in the Art Troupe shared that mindset.
Especially the selected members of the Performance Groups—a good chunk of them planned to stick around over the break to practice.
Or return a few days early.
Yu Wen included, the entire Model Group was forgoing the holiday.
“Ha, pretty dedicated, huh?” Chen Nannan said, a bit at a loss. She forced a smile and teased him lightly to mask her disappointment.
“Yeah. What about you, Senior Sister? Heading home?”
Shen An asked gently.
“Mm, yeah, I’m definitely going home,” Chen Nannan replied softly. “I’m not in a Performance Group. Not as swamped as you.”
“Oh, I’m not in one either,” Shen An sighed.
“Able-bodied folks get stuck with more work. Can’t help it when the office is short-staffed.”
She quickly adjusted her tone.
“But you’re really not going home?”
After a pause, she asked again.
“Nope. I’ll just spend it at school.”
“Eh? Your parents okay with that?”
“Don’t worry, they’re fully supportive.” Shen An’s smile held a strange edge. Home? He didn’t even know where that was.
“At least pop back for a day or two. The holiday’s so long—it won’t eat up much time,” Chen Nannan urged earnestly.
“It’s fine. My place is pretty far. Round trip would take ages. Better to stay put.”
Shen An narrowed his eyes.
“Wait…” Chen Nannan hesitated.
“Hm?”
“You… you’re at the Art Troupe right now?”
“Yeah.”
“Oh. So when do you get off?”
“Not sure. Whenever I wrap up, I guess. Why?”
“Nothing. Just curious.”
Silence fell once more.
No sound came from Chen Nannan’s end. Shen An waited quietly, figuring she’d hung up.
But a glance at the screen showed the call was still connected.
Finally, her voice returned.
“Got time tonight?”
Shen An arched a brow, the corner of his mouth quirking up. “Tonight? I’ve been pretty wiped lately. Thinking of turning in early.”
“Oh, I see.”
Laughter drifted from the other end of the line. “Fair enough. Get some good rest then. Don’t push yourself too hard.”
“Mm. Anything else?”
“N-No… nothing.”
Chen Nannan rushed to wrap it up. “Go ahead and get back to work. Bye.”
“Bye.”
After hanging up, Chen Nannan clutched her phone tightly, standing dazed at the elevator entrance to the Art Troupe.
She lifted her head, her eyes glimmering with a hint of moisture.
But she quickly tamped it down, making it seem like nothing more than an illusion.
Chen Nannan took a deep breath, turned around, and walked back into the elevator. She pressed the button and left.
Meanwhile, inside the office, Shen An set down his phone and spoke toward the computer screen. “Stop eavesdropping. What do you want to ask?”
Song Rui, who was sitting behind him, gave a little shiver and quickly bowed her head, not daring to say a word.
“I’m talking to you.”
Shen An turned around, reached out, and ruffled her silky hair with mock annoyance.
Song Rui looked up at him, all pouty and aggrieved. “I… I wasn’t eavesdropping.”
“Hmm?”
Shen An narrowed his eyes.
“I… I only heard a tiny bit,” Song Rui stammered.
“Tsk, so dishonest.”
Shen An’s finger trailed over her cheek before casually pinching a bit of soft flesh there. He gave it a light squeeze.
Hiss~
The grievance in Song Rui’s eyes deepened. “It hurts.”
“You know it hurts, huh? Then hurry up and confess. Sneaking around like that—what were you trying to hear?”
Shen An simply brought his other hand into play as well. With both hands now, he kneaded Song Rui’s little face vigorously.
But the girl didn’t resist in the slightest. She was like a lump of dough, letting Shen An have his way without so much as a whimper.
“I… I was just curious who called you.”
With her soft cheeks bunched up by his fingers, Song Rui’s voice came out sounding a bit strange—a touch coquettish, even.
“Senior Sister Chen.”
Shen An didn’t bother hiding it. He answered without hesitation.
“The assistant class supervisor?”
“Mm-hmm.”
“Why… why did she call you?” Song Rui blinked her big, bright eyes.
“Nothing much. She was just checking in on how I’ve been and asking if I’m heading back for the holiday.”
Shen An’s voice softened. “Perfectly normal stuff, right? Why so nervous?”
Song Rui froze for a moment, then shook her head vigorously. “I… I’m not nervous!”
“Tsk, tsk, tsk. Your tone’s gotten so emphatic, and you claim you’re not.”
“Mm~”
Song Rui asked weakly, “You’re not going home?”
Shen An arched a brow. “Didn’t you hear?”
“You’re really not going back?”
“Or what? Do you think I was lying to Senior Sister?” Shen An chuckled lightly. “Lying’s not right.”
“I… I just think… maybe… going back for a bit would be nice.”
Song Rui murmured softly. “After all… it’s been over a month.”
Shen An released her little face and leaned back against the chair’s headrest. “Do you miss home that much?”
“Mm.”
Song Rui nodded.
“Then why aren’t you clocking out? Don’t tell me you booked a ride for tomorrow.”
“Yeah, it’s too late today.”
Song Rui grinned foolishly. “Plus, I’ve still got a bit of work left. Gotta finish it.”
“Silly girl.”
Shen An affectionately scraped the tip of her dainty nose. “Then get it done quick, rest up early, and head back in a good mood.”
“Don’t you miss home?”
Song Rui found it a little baffling.
From her perspective, after being away from home for over a month, anyone would want to go back and check in.
She’d never been away that long herself. Even in high school, she went home every night to sleep instead of staying in the school dorms.
“I do miss it, but I’ve gotten used to this feeling.”
Shen An smiled.
“Used to it?”
“Yeah. Ever since junior high, I’ve spent long stretches living in the school dorms—only going home on weekends.”
“By high school, it was once a month, sometimes two.”
“It’s not that I don’t miss home. It’s just… going back or not doesn’t make much difference.”
As he pinched her little face and stroked her soft skin, his tone turned faintly nostalgic.
Song Rui listened quietly, a sparkle lighting up her eyes. “You’re so impressive.”
“This is impressive?”
“Mm… I… I’ve always gone home. Never stayed in the dorms.”
“I can tell. You really like depending on the things that make you feel warm—whether it’s people or objects.”
“Is that bad?”
Song Rui pursed her little lips. “I heard that growing up means leaving your family behind, letting go of all the familiar stuff, and adapting to the unknown.”
“Sticking around just makes you more and more timid.”
“Bullshit.” Shen An curled his lip and ruffled her hair. “People who say crap like that are just the ones with nothing to lean on—no warm home of their own.”
“Besides, you’ve been living at school for over a month now, and I haven’t seen any freak-outs from you. What’s there to worry about?”
Shen An’s words carried a pointed reminder. “Take it one step at a time. No need to rush—you’re already doing great. Got it?”
“Mm…”
Song Rui lifted her little head a bit more proactively, making it easier for him to stroke her hair.
She always loved chatting with him.
Even if it was just a few exchanges.
Because from him, she drew comfort, support, and encouragement.
Out here alone in this unfamiliar place…
Shen An gave her that sense of home-like warmth.
