Under the long, bright glow of the streetlights, Shen An and Chen Nannan walked together from the Central District back to the North District.
Along the way, Chen Nannan seemed a little awkward. Her face stayed flushed, and she stammered now and then, as if she had something she wanted to say but couldn’t quite find the words to start.
In her daze, she had dozed off against his shoulder. When he gently woke her, Chen Nannan was still groggy and disoriented.
She clutched her phone tightly in her hand, but the battery had long since died.
Shen An had helped her pick out the photos she wanted to keep, and in the process, he had drained the phone’s battery completely. Now, gripping it so hard, she could feel a burning warmth radiating into her palm.
Finally back in the North District, standing in front of the familiar building entrance, Chen Nannan let out a sigh of relief.
She turned to him with a smile. “Well, I’m heading back.”
Shen An waved. “Sure. Want to play basketball again tomorrow?”
“Huh?”
Chen Nannan, who had already taken a few steps, stopped dead in her tracks.
“Uh, didn’t you say classes don’t start for another two days? I’ve got nothing else going on during that time.”
Shen An said softly, “Of course, if you’re too busy, Senior Sister, I can just shoot around by myself.”
She was busy—extremely so.
Her laptop was filled with documents waiting for her attention. As the president of the Club Federation, she had to make decisions on everything from new member recruitment to planning and organizing the clubs.
Not to mention her duties as Assistant Class Supervisor, where she was responsible for entering every new student’s information into the school’s system.
With all that piling up, she barely had time to catch her breath.
But for some reason, when Chen Nannan turned back and met Shen An’s gaze—those eyes sparkling with anticipation—she found she couldn’t bring herself to say no.
“Sure.”
After a moment’s hesitation, she broke into a smile.
Shen An smiled back. “It won’t cause you any trouble, will it, Senior Sister?”
“No, it won’t.”
Chen Nannan, who wasn’t much of a liar, forced out the words anyway. “These next few days happen to be pretty free for me. The Student Union and school stuff won’t really ramp up until classes start.”
“That’s good to hear.”
Shen An’s voice was bright and crisp. “How about tomorrow afternoon, then? Same basketball court as today.”
“You still want to come wait for me? It’s just a short walk from there to my building.”
Chen Nannan teased him playfully. “Besides, you don’t even have a ball. My apartment happens to have one.”
“I think… the Art Troupe might message me tonight.”
Shen An explained, “So… I want to check out the situation first.”
“But didn’t you say you didn’t want to join the Art Troupe?”
Chen Nannan’s smile grew even warmer. “No worries. Worst case, I’ll go with you.”
“So… it’s a deal?”
“Yeah. If the Art Troupe messages you, tell me right away, okay?”
“I promise you’ll be the first to know.”
“Mm. Well… you should head back now.”
“See you tomorrow~” Shen An waved casually and turned toward Building D.
Once they were out of each other’s sight—after just a few steps—both of them stopped.
Shen An shoved his hands in his pockets and stared up at the clear night sky, narrowing his eyes. “Why… can’t I control myself?”
He muttered to himself, then let out a heavy sigh.
He didn’t want to repeat the same mistakes.
But the circumstances were pushing him forward, forcing him down the same path once more.
Meanwhile, after climbing the stairs, Chen Nannan leaned against the wall in the corner, covering her burning face as she murmured to herself.
“Have I lost my mind… Chen Nannan…?”
They hadn’t talked much on the walk back.
Even at the goodbye, Shen An had tactfully steered clear of any sensitive topics.
Yet those memories kept replaying in Chen Nannan’s mind.
Whether it was her embarrassing flubs on the basketball court or her “wild and bold” moment on the rooftop, every detail was crystal clear.
The bright hallway lights illuminated her flushed cheeks, mirroring the vivid scenes in her head.
She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror as she passed.
“What’s… gotten into me?”
She sighed too, then hurried back to her apartment.
If tomorrow was going to be like today, she needed to pull an all-nighter tonight to knock out the rest of her work.
Otherwise, she wouldn’t have enough time.
The moment Chen Nannan got back to the apartment, she plugged in her phone to charge and fired up her laptop.
She didn’t even bother changing out of her grimy clothes before diving straight into work mode.
Back at his place, Shen An found the takeout Xu Yijing had ordered sitting on the table.
Xu Yijing herself was lounging on the living room sofa, idly watching some mindless TV drama.
If the takeout had been ordered just for him, Shen An might have been happier about it.
As it was, it was only to keep him from making “noise.”
Still, food was food.
Shen An grabbed the takeout and greeted Xu Yijing.
She turned her head, glanced at his clothes, and said lightly, “Went to play basketball?”
“You could tell?”
Shen An was a bit surprised.
“Not hard to guess. You’re not exactly dressed for soccer.” Xu Yijing’s tone was flat.
“You’ve only been here a few days, but you’ve already started building your own social circle.”
There was a hint of approval in Xu Yijing’s voice that struck Shen An as odd.
“Yeah, it’s all thanks to our Assistant Senior Sister. I’ve met quite a few friends through her.”
Shen An used the opening to test the waters with Xu Yijing.
He had already seen the Xu Yijing that Chen Nannan had described.
Now he wanted to see the Chen Nannan in Xu Yijing’s eyes.
“Assistant Senior Sister?” Xu Yijing paused, as if thinking it over.
“Oh, you mean Nannan, right?”
Her voice softened.
“Huh? You know my Assistant Senior Sister too, Senior Sister?” Shen An feigned surprise.
“Nannan and I worked together back in our freshman year.”
Xu Yijing didn’t dodge the question. “She’s a great senior sister for new students. It’s fate that she’s looking out for you.”
“By the way, have you told Nannan about your job?”
Xu Yijing fixed her gaze on Shen An, her tone even.
“Yeah, our Assistant Senior Sister knows I’m crashing with you for now.”
Shen An smiled, watching her expression closely for any shifts.
“Mm. You spent the day checking things out—any departments catch your eye?”
Xu Yijing brushed past the topic of Chen Nannan and changed the subject.
“The Art Troupe.”
Shen An didn’t press. “I even went for an interview.”
“An interview already?” Xu Yijing sounded surprised. “That was fast.”
“Yeah, but their recruitment process is kind of… well…”
“A bit hard to swallow, right?” Xu Yijing let out a soft chuckle.
“Something like that~” Shen An shrugged.
In front of Xu Yijing, he played the part of a wide-eyed freshman.
“That’s just their tradition—to weed out the ones who don’t fit. Anyone who doesn’t belong gets cut right away.”
Xu Yijing commented, “It’s not exactly appropriate for a school setting, but you have to admit, it’s efficient.”
After a pause, she smiled faintly. “Since you went through with the interview, you must have passed, right?”
“Eh… hard to say~”
Shen An recounted the interview for her.
“Senior Sister Zhao said I looked great but didn’t give me a definite answer.”
“So I’m feeling a little anxious.”
Xu Yijing turned back to the TV. “Don’t worry. She doesn’t say that kind of thing lightly. You’ll pass for sure.”
“Really?” Shen An asked with feigned eagerness.
“Yeah, you’ll pass.”
A mocking smile tugged at Xu Yijing’s lips. “Though for you, it might not be such a good thing.”
“Hah?”
Shen An’s smile froze.
“You’ll see once you’re in.”
Xu Yijing said softly, “Go eat first, then take a shower. I’m heading out to practice.”
“Oh~”
Shen An carried his takeout back to his room.
After his shower, as he was eating, his phone dinged.
He opened it to find a text message.
“Student Shen An, you have passed the Art Troupe’s preliminary audition. Please come to the Large Classroom tomorrow for the second round.”
Followed by the location details.
Shen An swallowed his bite and narrowed his eyes at the short message.
He had once served as a department president in the Student Union, so he knew the drill.
Recruitment messages to freshmen were usually more formal and official.
This one wasn’t unprofessional, but it had this oddly deliberate air of formality.
He wasn’t sure if it was just the Art Troupe’s style, if he was overthinking it, or if it hadn’t come from the usual assistant handling messages.
After a moment’s thought, he opened his phone and told Chen Nannan about it.
He also forwarded it to Song Rui.
If Song Rui got the same message, then he was probably just being paranoid.
Chen Nannan was apparently busy and didn’t reply right away.
Song Rui responded quickly, but her answer caught Shen An off guard.
“You passed? I… I don’t think I did.”
“Eh, you didn’t get a message?”
“No…”
“Maybe it’s delayed. Wait a bit longer.”
Shen An reassured her.
“Oh…”
“But what if… it doesn’t come?”
“Then it doesn’t. Plenty of other departments out there.”
“I… I want to join the Art Troupe.” Song Rui was firm on that.
“Wait a little longer, then. If nothing by ten, we’ll figure it out.”
“Mm.”
And so they waited until ten o’clock.
Song Rui showed up right on time to message him.
“I… I still haven’t gotten any notification.”
“Am I passed over…?”
“Actually, I kind of saw this coming. I… I really am not cut out for the Art Troupe.”
“That Senior Sister Zhao… I could sense she didn’t really like me.”
Song Rui fired off a string of messages, all but confirming her failure in the first round of interviews. They brimmed with negative self-mockery, laced with bouts of self-abandonment.
Shen An had been scrolling through things peacefully when Song Rui’s barrage of gloom hit him like a truck.
“Don’t think like that. Maybe they’re just sending them out in batches?”
“Besides, I told you before—you’re great. If the Art Troupe doesn’t want you, that’s their loss.”
He reined in his impatience and quietly comforted the dejected girl.
“Am I really great? Do you truly think so?”
Song Rui’s emotions suddenly erupted in a bizarre surge.
“From childhood to now, I’ve never been good at anything… I’ve always just been… completely unremarkable.”
“That senior sister in high school… she encouraged me when I was really down… and she said I was great too…”
“I wanted to prove her judgment wasn’t wrong, so that’s why I tried to join the Art Troupe.”
“But… there are so many things I just can’t do…”
“The first time I went for the interview, that senior sister said… I was stiff and nervous, totally unfit for the Art Troupe.”
“I… I think she was right. I feel the same way. Things that seem so easy and normal to others, I fumble like an idiot.”
“Like class meetings—just getting up to speak, and I hesitate and agonize over it forever. I’m so jealous of Yuqiong. She’s really amazing.”
Shen An read through the flood of messages in silence.
His phone kept dinging nonstop.
He glanced at the time—only 10:05, not even noon yet. How had she already spiraled into full emo mode?
Sigh.
But he couldn’t just ignore her.
Though he hadn’t interacted much with Song Rui, he knew her well enough: sensitive, riddled with self-doubt and insecurity, hyper-aware of others’ opinions.
Brushing her off now would only deal a heavier blow to her spirits.
For someone like her to open up like this was rare enough; he couldn’t very well squash her willingness to vent.
Shen An tidied up a bit, then lay down on his bed. He picked up his phone and dove in earnestly, joining Song Rui in her melancholy session.
Meanwhile.
Chen Nannan had finally wrapped up her temporary busyness.
She stretched lazily, suddenly feeling bone-tired.
Better hurry up, shower, and crash~
With that thought, she grabbed her phone and spotted Shen An’s message.
Eh…
Two hours ago…
Crap, she’d missed it.
Chen Nannan tapped it open at once. Seeing the screenshot Shen An had sent—that text message—her heart sank a little. She felt happy for him, yet worry crept in too.
Getting into the Art Troupe was great, of course. It was the department that offered the most credits and real hands-on experience.
But… Senior Sister Zhao seemed…
She let out a sigh, then sent Shen An a quick congrats.
She waited a moment, but no reply came. Muttering that he’d probably dozed off, she swiped away.
Chen Nannan meant to set the phone down and head for a shower.
But a sudden impulse struck.
She wanted to see the photos Shen An had picked.
When she’d woken up on the rooftop, her phone had been dead.
So Chen Nannan plopped down cross-legged again and opened her gallery.
The rooftop shoot had yielded tons of photos between the two of them.
Shen An had culled them down to about a hundred, but every single one showed his careful selection—no half-hearted jobs here.
As she scrolled, Chen Nannan abruptly spotted a photo of herself.
More precisely: one of her leaning on Shen An’s shoulder!!
No blush of shyness—just pure annoyance!
Because Shen An had Photoshopped it. She’d looked pretty before, but he’d slapped a bunny costume on her—and to top it off, drawn long whiskers across her face!
She kept scrolling…
Holy crap, it wasn’t just bunnies. Tigers, cats, snakes—every common animal got its turn.
Her face had been messed with in every way imaginable.
That jerk… doing all this while she was asleep?
He must’ve been bored out of his mind!
Chen Nannan grumbled indignantly.
Yet deep down, a faint disappointment stirred.
At a time like this… he should’ve… done something more meaningful.
Oh come on~
Are you nuts, Chen Nannan?
What could possibly be more meaningful?
Fuming at her own wandering thoughts, she kept scrolling.
At the very end, the last photo: still her dozing on his shoulder.
But this one had no edits.
In the frame, only her peacefully asleep, and him with a soft smile.
The sun had set, light fading dim, but the smile on his lips stood out clear.
And her sleeping self wore an expression of utter gentleness, as if nestled against something warm and reassuring, utterly at ease.
Chen Nannan stared, lost in thought, her mind falling silent.
