The moment Chen Nannan first spotted Shen An carrying Wang Yuqiong at the entrance to the restaurant, she felt an ache deep inside.
But with her friends right there beside her, she was determined not to show any sign of weakness.
Any over-the-top reaction would just invite their gossip.
They were all friends, sure, but Chen Nannan was really only close to Zhang Qian. The others were just people she chatted with now and then.
She had always been cautious, especially when it came to relationships. She’d rather do nothing at all than risk making a mistake.
And because she was so capable, Chen Nannan knew she wasn’t all that popular in their circle—whether it was jealousy or just her personality rubbing people the wrong way.
Once the gossip started, there was no doubt it would affect her.
College was the kind of place where rumors spread like wildfire without any cost.
Chen Nannan placed a high value on her reputation.
So in that split second, she adjusted her emotions, pretending she hadn’t seen a thing without betraying the slightest flaw.
She even fooled her good friend Zhang Qian, who thought she really hadn’t noticed.
But it wasn’t as if she was utterly heartbroken; otherwise, she couldn’t have composed herself so quickly.
It was more like savoring a delicious piece of fish only to swallow a bone that lodged in her throat.
Not quite agonizing, but impossible to truly ignore.
Chen Nannan was just a bit puzzled. She didn’t know much about romance, and witnessing that scene made her feel a twinge of betrayal.
She’d always treated Shen An well, fulfilling her duties as his senior sister ever since he started school—and going above and beyond.
Of course, she encouraged him to make friends and expand his social circle; she had no intention of monopolizing him.
But comparisons were inevitable.
Chen Nannan didn’t have many close friends to begin with, and male friends were especially rare. Shen An was one of the few.
She simply felt that she should be the one closest to him.
Right?
How many days had he even been at school? She’d spent nearly every day with him, and he’d done the same with her.
Setting aside Xu Yijing, who lived with him, she had to rank in his top two for daily time spent, didn’t she?
So she should be closer to him than anyone.
But when had Wang Yuqiong overtaken her?
Aside from a hint of jealousy, that moment of discomfort left Chen Nannan with a lot of confusion.
She’d invested so much time in him—skipping work to play basketball with him—yet why wasn’t she the closest to him?
This had nothing to do with love yet; Chen Nannan hadn’t connected it to that.
It was just a childish comparison of friendship, like kids bragging.
She and he should be better friends, but the reality was: Wang Yuqiong was closer to him.
How strange.
Thankfully, the discomfort didn’t last long. Once they entered the large classroom for the meeting, Chen Nannan’s focus shifted to the discussion.
If not for Shen An’s recent message, she might not have even recalled it.
After a couple of hours of distraction, when she thought back on it, the sting had faded.
Faintly, she even mocked herself a little for comfort.
She fancied herself his senior sister, yet here she was with these childish thoughts.
People made friends; that was fine. They were all friends—no such thing as closer or more distant.
Besides, the world didn’t work on equal returns for effort.
She’d just been naive, idealizing everything.
Who said spending more time together meant being best buddies? Maybe he just turned to his accommodating senior sister when he had no one else.
She was soft-spoken and easygoing, always saying yes to requests, right?
That’s how college worked.
Fate was fleeting; people brushed past each other and quickly found their own circles.
She was already a sophomore—shouldn’t she know better?
What an idiot, Chen Nannan.
She’d come around and felt better, but that didn’t mean she was ready to respond to Shen An just yet.
She was still a little resentful. Maybe she needed time—or an explanation.
Sigh~
Chen Nannan let out a breath. This was exactly why she shied away from socializing; relationships could be so unpredictable.
With her sensitive nature, she couldn’t help getting caught up in her own emotions—overthinking or imagining the worst.
Compared to that, studying suited her better. At least it had clear content, defined concepts, and a path to follow.
She buried her face deep in the soft pillows, aware of her tangled thoughts, and deliberately ignored the phone she’d tossed to the far end of the sofa.
She didn’t want to deal with him.
Not yet.
Basking in the cool evening breeze, Shen An walked from the East District back toward the North District.
He checked his phone; still no reply from Chen Nannan.
“Does this meeting really have to drag on this long?”
Shen An muttered in confusion. It was nearly ten o’clock now—which meeting ran till then? Even a hanging man gets a chance to catch his breath.
He hadn’t realized Chen Nannan was ignoring him on purpose; he just figured the meeting was running overtime.
Soon enough, his attention shifted away from her.
Wang Yuqiong had messaged him.
“Beep beep! I’m back at the dorm.”
Shen An switched to their chat and snapped a quick photo of the roadside scenery. “Lucky you. I’m still on the way.”
“Then keep at it—it’s only a couple miles! Heading to shower now.”
Wang Yuqiong sent a schadenfreude emoji.
“Heh, watch out—no hot water left!”
Shen An fired back with mock malice.
“Sorry to disappoint—hot water’s twenty-four-seven~”
“Fine then, shower away. I’ll just enjoy my walk.”
“Hmph~ Remember tomorrow’s early class. Don’t be late—set your alarm. I’m not waking you up.”
“? I wasn’t planning on you doing it anyway.”
“Then buzz off, you ungrateful jerk~ Off to shower.”
Wang Yuqiong set her phone down, feeling the day’s fatigue catch up.
When a girl said she was going to shower, it usually meant she was getting ready—not jumping in right away.
In the dorm, her other roommates gossiped about her late return and fished for details on the interview.
Lying on her bed, Song Rui watched Wang Yuqiong intently. She was very interested in how the interview went.
Part envy, part quiet disappointment.
Yuqiong’s amazing—early interview and all…
Down below, Wang Yuqiong chatted animatedly, vividly recounting her day.
She mentioned running into Shen An during the interview but deliberately skipped the part about going to dinner with him afterward.
Even so, the girls’ sharp instincts picked up on something unusual in her words.
In guys’ dorms, games and girls were the top topics.
In girls’ dorms, guys topped the charts—even over makeup.
“Shen An? What was he doing there?”
“Yeah, was he interviewing early too?”
“I heard he made waves in the Student Union—what happened?”
Song Rui had grown used to being invisible. She just perked up her ears, listening silently as her two roommates grilled Wang Yuqiong, who explained and deflected.
It had become their dorm routine; her presence was always so faint.
Suddenly, her phone dinged.
Song Rui jolted slightly and checked it.
Shen An: “Hey hey hey, you up yet?”
Song Rui blinked in confusion. “Up? …I haven’t even gone to bed.”
Shen An: “Not asleep? Good. You know about tomorrow’s class, right?”
Song Rui: “Mm.”
Shen An: “Early morning one?”
“Mm.”
“When you wake up tomorrow, give me a voice call, okay?”
His instruction felt so natural, almost entitled.
Strangely, Song Rui didn’t mind. She just asked curiously, “Why…?”
“No reason. I’m worried I’ll sleep through. Don’t want to be late.”
“Oh~”
Song Rui nodded like a quiet gourd.
She opened her alarm app and changed it from seven to six-thirty.
Half an hour should be plenty for him to get up, right?
“Cool, night!” Shen An signed off first.
Song Rui pouted a little, but then overheard Wang Yuqiong downstairs talking about Shen An’s Student Union exploits.
Huh?
Song Rui blinked. She had no idea what was going on.
She set her phone aside and listened intently to Wang Yuqiong’s story.
Even though Wang Yuqiong wasn’t there in person, she painted such a vivid picture that it felt like she was live-streaming the whole thing right then and there.
Song Rui listened quietly, her expression utterly serious, as if she were memorizing some crucial study material. She seemed determined to commit every single word about him to memory.
Right on the dot at ten o’clock, Shen An returned to the apartment.
He pushed open the door and immediately glanced toward the living room. There sat Xu Yijing, quietly in her seat, her brows tightly furrowed and her face stern.
Her beloved soap opera wasn’t playing as usual; the television screen was pitch black.
Xu Yijing looked like she had been waiting there specifically for Shen An to come back.
The whole setup had the air of a stern tribunal interrogation.
Shen An stepped inside, changed out of his shoes, and plastered a smile on his face. As the saying goes, you don’t hit a smiling face—no matter what was going on with Xu Yijing, he figured it was best to start on the right foot.
“Senior Sister, you’re still up this late?”
At the sound of his voice, Xu Yijing slowly turned her head. Her already furrowed brows didn’t ease at the sight of his cheerful smile; if anything, they locked together even tighter.
Her cherry lips parted slightly, and her voice came out cool and detached. “You’re back pretty late. I’ve been waiting for an hour.”
The implication was clear: the Student Union meeting had ended a full hour ago.
As for Chen Nannan…
Shen An pushed thoughts of Chen Nannan aside for the moment. This was the first time Xu Yijing had ever given him the cold shoulder like this, and it was probably the day’s events that had set her off.
“Aiya, sorry to keep you waiting, Senior Sister. I went out to dinner with some friends tonight.”
“Next time if there’s anything, just shoot me a text.”
Chatting lightly to defuse the tension, Shen An pulled out his phone. “Oh, right—I don’t think I have your number yet, Senior Sister.”
Xu Yijing narrowed her clear, limpid eyes—eyes as crystalline and innocent as a deer’s, a world apart from Zhao Qingyu’s seductive, fox-like gaze.
“You’re in a pretty good mood, huh? Still enjoying getting played for a fool?”
Her naturally cool voice carried a sharp edge of frustration, like hating iron for not becoming steel. She was trying hard to rein it in, but Shen An heard it loud and clear.
He dropped his smile and spoke softly. “Is this about Senior Sister Zhao?”
Xu Yijing replied coldly, “You know damn well it is.”
“Sigh, you think I wanted to go? I had no choice.” Shen An spread his hands helplessly. “I was there for an interview, and the interviewer was Senior Sister Zhao.”
“That’s what the interview entailed. If I couldn’t get through it, I’d basically kiss goodbye any chance of joining the Art Troupe.”
“Honestly, Senior Sister, you’re the Student Union Vice President. Why not step in and do something about it?”
Xu Yijing fixed him with a steady gaze, a mocking curve touching her lips. “I can’t control her. All I can do is warn you: stay the hell away from her business from now on.”
“Otherwise, what you went through today will be the least of your worries.”
“I know what you’re thinking about, but I have to say it anyway. The Art Troupe might be prestigious, but it won’t shield you from the fallout later.”
“Not if you want to graduate smoothly, anyway.”
With that icy line delivered, Xu Yijing rose to her feet. “Get some rest.”
Shen An watched her retreating back and chuckled lightly, unfazed. “So you waited a whole hour just to give me a heads-up, Senior Sister?”
“Everyone says you’re cold-faced, but I think you’re the type who’s cold on the outside but warm at heart.”
Xu Yijing halted mid-step, glanced back over her shoulder, and said calmly, “I’m not in the mood for jokes. Take my advice or leave it—I’ve warned you.”
“If trouble comes knocking because of this, don’t say I didn’t tell you.”
“And don’t expect me to bail you out. You made your bed; you lie in it.”
With those final words, Xu Yijing opened the door and vanished down the long corridor.
Shen An stayed rooted to the spot, musing that the bad blood between Xu Yijing and Zhao Qingyu ran deeper than he’d imagined.
But after giving it some thought, something didn’t quite add up.
If Xu Yijing was really that well-meaning—and truly at odds with Zhao Qingyu—why had she nudged him toward the Art Troupe in the first place?
She was smart enough to know that joining it would inevitably drag him into dealings with Zhao Qingyu.
Luring the snake out of its hole?
Or maybe using someone else’s strength to strike at them?
Shen An narrowed his eyes, pondering for a moment before arriving at a conclusion.
Xu Yijing really was too beautiful. Even when she was laying into him, it was impossible to muster any real resentment.
