Shen An listened quietly for a while. The music was beautiful, no doubt about it, but he vaguely sensed something off.
As the saying goes, music can transcend words—it’s an exchange of emotions on a spiritual level.
Every piece carries the composer’s unique intent.
Likewise, the emotions conveyed by different performers vary. If they were all identical, it wouldn’t be art.
He didn’t know much about music, but he enjoyed listening. After hearing enough, he could even remember some melodies.
If memory served, this piece was meant to be uplifting and passionate. Yet in Xu Yijing’s hands, there wasn’t a trace of that fire.
That was the issue he’d picked up on.
She’d turned a soaring anthem into something like a funeral dirge—heavy and oppressive. Listening too long even started to weigh on his own mood.
Was it a deliberate arrangement?
Or was it coming straight from the heart?
She always came across as subdued, with a detached air that betrayed no emotions whatsoever—no joy, no anger, nothing.
Like an iceberg: just the tip visible above the surface, the vast bulk hidden beneath.
At her age, you might call her a classic troubled teen.
The emotions in a piece mirror the performer’s inner state.
Lost in thought, Shen An barely registered when the piano fell silent.
The door swung open before he could react.
Xu Yijing gazed at him expressionlessly. “Did I disturb your rest?” she asked softly.
Caught red-handed, Shen An gave a small smile. “Not at all. I just woke up and was about to tidy up, but the music drew me in before I knew it.”
“You play beautifully.”
“Thanks.”
She stepped out and closed the door behind her.
Seizing the moment, Shen An glanced inside. The walls were lined with instruments.
No surprise there—it was clearly her music room, complete with a piano and much more.
It reminded him that she was in the Art Department. “Do you study music?” he asked.
She shook her head slightly. “No, fine arts. I just happen to like music.”
“Oh, so you’re an audiophile.” Shen An chuckled.
“Audiophile?”
“Someone who really loves music.”
“I suppose so.”
He trailed after her into the living room, where she stopped. “You haven’t had dinner yet, have you?”
“Not yet…”
“Perfect. I ordered extra takeout—it’s in the fridge. Just heat it up.”
“That’s too kind…” Shen An rubbed his hands together.
“Or don’t bother. There’s a snack shop downstairs with decent food.” She fished a meal card from her pocket. “You can use this there.”
Good grief.
Shen An felt a bit overwhelmed by her generosity. Xu Yijing was almost too nice.
“It’s fine—I can cook something.”
She narrowed her eyes. “Sorry, but when I was cleaning earlier, I saw the frozen meat was about to expire. I threw it all out.”
“Uh, no problem. I can eat noodles.”
“I tossed those too,” she said flatly.
Shen An: ?
He couldn’t help suspecting she’d done it on purpose—just to keep him from cooking—while playing the gracious host.
“Eat the takeout. It’d be a waste otherwise.”
Her lips curved up slightly, her suggestion utterly sincere.
“Alright then…” Shen An sighed and retrieved the takeout from the fridge, resigned to his fate.
As he heated it up, he noticed the coffee table was spotless once more, courtesy of Xu Yijing.
She’d opened her laptop and pulled several files from underneath, claiming the entire surface. No room for him to eat there.
Shen An smirked to himself. He hadn’t realized that one bowl of noodles last night had made such an impression.
Her traits were starting to come into focus.
Calm and reserved, she strongly preferred solitude and disliked interruptions—especially noisy ones.
She probably had a touch of OCD, too, and was skilled at masking her quirks behind a polite facade.
Shen An had no intention of bothering her. Now that he had a sense of her habits, he respected them, honoring their unspoken pact of mutual non-interference.
He carried the warmed takeout to the dining table, still wrapped in its protective film, and ate slowly by himself.
Once finished, he tidied up quickly, bagged the trash from the bin, and headed downstairs to toss it.
Back upstairs, he bid Xu Yijing goodnight and retreated to his room for a wash-up before bed.
And so their second night of cohabitation passed—simple and uneventful.
The next day at noon, a sudden voice call shattered Chen Nannan’s train of thought.
She set aside her work and answered.
“Zhang Qian, what’s up?”
“Nannan, you coming today? Over at the Basketball Club!”
Zhang Qian asked bluntly.
“I have stuff…” The words were out before Chen Nannan paused, catching herself.
“You busy? Handle it then!”
“No—I mean, I’m busy right now, but I’ll head over once I’m done.”
Her gaze sharpened as she spoke softly.
“Got it, got it. Go handle your stuff. I’ll manage things here at the club…”
Zhang Qian’s words trailed off as she froze.
“Huh? Nannan, you’re actually coming?”
It took her a second to process.
“Yeah, I’ll be there soon. Anything planned today?” Chen Nannan asked.
“Tsk, what wind blew you our way? You’ve been in the club forever, but I can count your visits on one hand—three or four times, tops.”
Zhang Qian teased.
Chen Nannan pouted. “Nothing special. I’m a member too—vice club president, even. Can’t keep blowing it off.”
“Tsk tsk tsk! What got into you today, Nannan? Sudden change of heart?”
“You’re so naggy.”
“Fine, fine. Nothing major anyway. With you helping, we got the booth set up this morning. Just come on over and relieve me—I’ve been stuck here all morning and haven’t even eaten lunch.”
“Sure.”
“Oh, right!” Zhang Qian added. “That junior of yours—can you bring him along?”
Chen Nannan narrowed her eyes. “Shen An?”
“Yeah, yeah—Shen An!”
Zhang Qian’s voice pitched up excitedly.
Chen Nannan’s frown deepened. “What for?”
“Aw, it’s only been a few days, and you’re already sounding like a mother hen.” Zhang Qian’s tone carried a hint of sourness.
“I… no, just curious.”
Chen Nannan stammered.
“Don’t you think he’d fit right in at the Basketball Club?” Zhang Qian got back on track. “You know the gender ratio. Plus, he’s over six feet, handsome, and built—not scrawny at all. He’d draw crowds to our games.”
Another voice cut in: “Nannan, don’t listen to her. She just wants an eyeful!”
Zhang Qian exploded. “Hey! Why’d you grab my phone? Give it back!”
The line erupted in scuffling noises. Chen Nannan pressed a hand to her forehead, exasperated.
After a moment, things cleared up—it was Zhang Qian again.
She’d reclaimed her phone, apparently.
“So? Bring your junior? Milk tea’s on me.”
“Bull. Nannan doesn’t even drink milk tea. That’s for the junior, isn’t it?”
Zhang Qian had control, but not fully.
Chen Nannan rubbed her temple. “I’ll… try.”
“Awesome! If not, no biggie! Hehehe.”
Zhang Qian giggled.
Chen Nannan hung up and tapped open Shen An’s profile, thumb hovering over the voice call button to ask his thoughts.
But she stopped short.
Last night’s attitude flashed in her mind… then Zhang Qian’s eager tone…
She arched a brow and set the phone down.
Whatever. If he wants to come, fine.
She tidied her work, snapped her laptop shut, and headed to the Basketball Club’s booth.
Truth be told, she rarely showed up and almost never joined activities. Her other role was too sensitive.
Yesterday’s excuse had been a convenient cover for Shen An. Had he agreed, she would’ve gone.
But he hadn’t. Normally, she’d hole up in her apartment and finish her work.
From last night onward, though, her mood had been off.
Staying cooped up would only sap her will to work.
Better to get out, hang with the lively Zhang Qian, and shake it off.
As for Shen An…
Lunch was takeout, again.
It was Xu Yijing who had accidentally ordered too much takeout.
She had clearly made up her mind not to let him anywhere near the kitchen anymore.
After they finished the takeout, Shen An casually asked, “Senior Sister, do you know where the Basketball Club’s stall is?”
Xu Yijing, who had been looking at her laptop, looked up at his words. “You want to join the Basketball Club?”
“No, no, I just have some interest in it. Whether I join or not is still up in the air.”
“Today is the day all the clubs and the Student Union are setting up stalls. Head over to the Main Athletic Field in the Central District—they’re all there.”
Xu Yijing paused meaningfully before adding, “Joining an organization is a pretty big deal for a freshman, so there’s no need to rush into a decision. Besides, in my opinion, the Basketball Club is something of a disappointment—it doesn’t live up to its name. I suggest you check out some of the other stalls before deciding.”
With that, she picked up a flyer from nearby and handed it to Shen An.
The flyer was identical to the one Song Rui had received yesterday. It covered recruitment for the clubs and Student Union, though not comprehensively. The main point was that stalls would be set up at the Main Athletic Field.
Shen An took the flyer and glanced over it.
Xu Yijing continued, “Anything catch your eye? Feel free to tell me—I can give you some advice.”
“Hmm, you just said the Basketball Club doesn’t live up to its name. What about the Soccer Club?”
“Oh, the Soccer Club? Just a heads-up: if you join them, you’ll need a full set of brand-new protective gear, and you’ll have to show up for training every day—seven in the morning and seven at night.”
“What about the Badminton Club?”
“Same deal—tons of training, and most of it is pretty pointless. From what I hear, this year’s club president is a real weirdo.”
Shen An nodded thoughtfully and asked about other clubs.
No matter which one he mentioned, Xu Yijing quickly offered “advice” laced with negativity.
After going through them all, Shen An simply said, “I get the feeling you’re not really recommending any clubs, Senior Sister.”
“You’re right. I’d suggest going for one of the Student Union’s organizations instead. Of course, your department’s groups are an option too.”
Shen An chuckled lightly. “I remember you telling me last time not to join the Student Union’s editing department.”
Xu Yijing replied coolly, “Maybe it’s because I’m in the Student Union myself. I might be a little biased toward it compared to the clubs.”
“So, what organizations in the Student Union are worth joining?”
Shen An asked for her opinion again.
He knew Xu Yijing was the Student Union Vice President—no one was better qualified to weigh in.
“The Life Department is basically manual labor. No independent activities, but every department relies on it. If you enjoy hauling stuff around, it’s not a bad pick.”
“Pass.” Only an idiot would enjoy hard labor.
“The Publicity Department requires some computer skills, but its main job is promotion. Have you noticed the bulletin boards and wall posters around campus? That’s their work.”
“It also involves interviews, plus running the campus newspaper and official accounts.”
“Sounds pretty troublesome,” Shen An said with a smack of his lips.
“It’s extremely troublesome.”
“Alright, pass on that one too.”
“The Discipline Department doesn’t have a ton of tasks, but what they do is fiddly, and you have to be on duty every day.”
“The Rights Protection and Club Liaison handles the clubs directly—you’ll be interacting with them constantly, and small conflicts are inevitable.”
Shen An would point to a department, and Xu Yijing would pick out its flaws.
She lived up to her title as Vice President; she knew every department inside out.
But oddly, her patient explanations gave Shen An the sense she was deliberately steering him.
“What about this one?”
Shen An’s gaze settled on the center of the flyer: “The Art Troupe?”
That Red-Clothed Senior Sister was the Art Troupe’s Deputy Troupe Leader.
Xu Yijing narrowed her eyes and said softly, “That one’s actually a good fit for you. Didn’t you say you were looking forward to it before? The Art Troupe has the most pretty girls out of any organization in the school.”
“And the work isn’t heavy—pretty relaxed overall. The only catch is that before you join, they don’t assign roles upfront. You’ll have to interview first, and the Troupe Leader and management will decide what you do.”
“They decide?”
“Right. For example, if they think you’re good for runway shows, they’ll put you in the Model Group. If you can sing, it’ll be the Singing Group.”
“But no matter the position, the responsibilities are relatively light.” Xu Yijing clearly knew her stuff about the Art Troupe too.
“Feels like you’re recommending the Art Troupe pretty strongly, Senior Sister.”
“I just think it’d suit you.”
“Could it be that you’re in the Art Troupe yourself?”
She had poked holes in every Student Union department except the Art Troupe.
Considering she was in the Art Department herself, it made sense that she’d be involved.
She smiled without answering. “If you head out now, you should arrive right when the stalls open.”
“Alright, I’ll go take a look.”
Shen An nodded, left the apartment, and headed toward the Main Athletic Field.
