When Kong Jian spotted her, the girl had just turned down a young man clutching his phone, clearly hoping to snag her WeChat.
That moment gave Kong Jian an even more concrete sense of just how beautiful Ning Yan was.
The girl was wearing a simple dress today—a white base splashed with scattered colorful patches, the hem brushing her knees and making her already fair, slender legs look all the more alluring.
Ning Yan saw her too. The icy expression she’d worn while rejecting the guy melted away in an instant, blooming into a smile as captivating as a flower.
She took Kong Jian’s hand with effortless naturalness. Kong Jian was used to Xi Yunyun grabbing her like that, so she didn’t pull away.
“Senior,” Ning Yan said, “which cafeteria should we hit up?”
Kong Jian was straightforward. “I don’t eat breakfast. Do you prefer Chinese or Western style?”
Ning Yan halted, her smile fading in a flash.
“Senior doesn’t eat breakfast?”
Caught in that stare, Kong Jian felt an inexplicable twinge of guilt, as if she’d committed some offense.
She steadied herself quickly. “Yeah, my body’s adjusted to it. I haven’t had any in forever.”
Ning Yan’s lips curved faintly, but her ink-black eyes gleamed with no light. “So Senior skipped breakfast back in high school too?”
“Huh?”
The question leaped back years, leaving Kong Jian momentarily stunned. She nodded after a beat. “Yeah.”
“Then it seems Brother Chen Yan had no clue Senior skips breakfast. Otherwise, during those make-or-break sophomore and junior years, why wouldn’t he have dragged you to the cafeteria?”
Chen Yan?
Kong Jian blurted out, “He found out later. That’s why for those last two years, he still thinks I ate all the breakfasts he brought.”
Ning Yan’s face grew taut, her expression turning two degrees colder than when she’d shut down that guy’s friend request. “Brother Chen Yan brought Senior breakfast for two whole years?”
Kong Jian started to elaborate, but reason reined her in. She countered instead, “Did Chen Yan tell you all that?”
The girl dipped her head slightly. Kong Jian couldn’t see her face, but the stiffness in her voice suggested she wasn’t thrilled.
“Yeah, Brother Chen Yan’s the best. He tells me everything that happens to him. Even after my college entrance exams, when I was picking my applications, he spent nights digging up the perfect options for me. Senior, having a boyfriend that sweet to everyone else—must be nice.”
Chen Yan had helped Ning Yan with her college choices?
And steered her toward A University?
Kong Jian recalled how Chen Yan had nudged her toward B University back then, and her gaze on Ning Yan turned complicated.
Just how much did that guy like this girl? Or not so much after all?
“Senior, did Brother Chen Yan mention it? There are tons of new girls at their school this year. Yesterday, out of the freshmen he was escorting, there was just one guy—the rest were girls.”
“And he even showed me pics. Each one prettier than the last. Brother Chen Yan’s such a gentleman. Not like those other guys with zero class who ditch people downstairs—he carried their luggage to the dorms, one by one.”
Chen Yan, with his scrawny arms and legs, pulling off something that manly?
The Brother Chen Yan in Ning Yan’s stories didn’t match the one Kong Jian knew.
Was this the famed “beauty in the eye of the beholder”?
“Senior, you wouldn’t be mad at Brother Chen Yan, right? He’s a senior leader; it’s part of the job. You get that, don’t you?”
Kong Jian remained cool. “Of course. I totally understand.”
Hadn’t she spent half of yesterday tangled up with this very girl?
Ning Yan wasn’t satisfied. Her tone pitched up, edged with sharp, biting sourness. “Guess Senior really likes Brother Chen Yan after all.”
Kong Jian dodged the jab. “You still haven’t said—Chinese or Western breakfast? The cafeterias are in opposite directions. Tell me, and I’ll know where to take you.”
“Whatever.”
“…”
“How about Senior picks? I’m good with anything.”
In the end, Kong Jian led her to the wonton spot.
This cafeteria specialized in Chinese breakfasts, stocking nearly every regional specialty from across the country. Xi Yunyun had sampled the wontons her first day on campus and been instantly hooked. She came back three days a week; the rest of the time, she hunted for other gems.
Ning Yan ordered a big bowl. When doctoring it with toppings, she added a dash of nearly everything—skipping only the cilantro smack in the center.
Kong Jian caught the move and grinned. “You hate cilantro too? Spot on—we’re identical there.”
The girl shot her a glance whose meaning Kong Jian couldn’t quite parse before being tugged away.
They’d come early; the place wasn’t packed yet.
Kong Jian slid into the seat across from Ning Yan and watched her ladle up a petite wonton, plump with tender meat, and blow on it softly near her lips.
She finally realized one thing. If this little girl showed up every morning to wait under the dorm building from now on, she couldn’t keep accompanying her over here every day, sitting across from her like an idiot just watching her eat, could she?
“Junior, I think there’s something… um?”
The porcelain spoon was already hovering right at her lips, practically brushing them. Kong Jian shut her mouth and shot her a puzzled glance.
“I’ve already blown it cool for you, Senior. No need to worry about it being too hot—just eat it.” The girl gazed at her with a beaming smile.
Kong Jian leaned back a little, just enough to avoid brushing the food in the spoon if she opened her mouth.
“I told you already. I don’t eat breakfast. I’ve been in the habit of skipping it for years.”
Ning Yan slipped right back into yesterday’s mode, as if she hadn’t heard a word. “I trust you, Senior. If you say this place’s wontons are good, then they must be. Come on, Senior—if you don’t eat now, they’ll get cold and won’t taste as nice.”
The pleasant look on Kong Jian’s face vanished. “Are you not listening to me? I don’t eat breakfast.”
“Do you find me annoying like this, Senior?”
“…” She shifted uncomfortably, dodging the intensity of the girl’s stare.
That was exactly what she thought.
“So what should I do? This bad habit of mine has been going on for years too. I can’t just kick it overnight. You’re older than me, Senior, so as the elder here, shouldn’t you cut your junior a little slack?”
Her words sounded like she was truly troubled by it, but her face was all innocent charm, giving nothing away.
It was the first time Kong Jian had been hit with such blatant moral blackmail, and it left her too furious to think of a comeback.
Ning Yan kept up her soft smile, showing no sign of abandoning her feeding mission. “Since you’re used to skipping breakfast, Senior, I guess from today onward, you’ll have to get used to something new.”
The hand holding the spoon inched forward another fraction. Kong Jian hadn’t dodged in time and felt the spoon’s edge—still warm—graze her lips.
“Senior, from now on, you’ll have to get used to me being around, okay?”
The spoon had cooled from sitting in the air so long, and there was a sharp edge to Ning Yan’s voice too.
“I just found out you skipped breakfast your entire sophomore and junior years of high school, Senior. You might not realize it, but I’m pretty pissed right now. But that’s fine—the past is the past. From here on out, I’ll keep you company and make sure you eat all those missed breakfasts, one bite at a time. Come on, Senior—open up. Otherwise, I might have to slide over next to you and help pry that mouth open nice and obediently.”
A devil had descended into the noisy mortal world, cloaked in an angel’s skin. With that face beautiful enough to beguile the masses, she lured her inevitable prey into her web. In a slip, the exquisite mask cracked just a bit, revealing the shattered edge beneath.
The pitiful human she’d claimed as her own missed the moment entirely. The devil composed herself—she didn’t want to scare off her little prize so soon—and slipped back into her sweet, innocent guise.
“Be a good girl and eat it, Senior, okay?”
Her voice turned soft and coaxing, her starry eyes glimmering with flecks of light. Kong Jian met her gaze by accident and found herself captivated by those midnight depths.
It was like a lost wanderer stumbling into a dream spun by a witch, forgetting all about escape.
The wonton was just the right temperature. Kong Jian took it into her mouth, chewing absently a few times before swallowing it down with a gulp under the girl’s encouraging stare.
A thin napkin pressed gently against the corner of her lips as Ning Yan meticulously wiped away the few stray drops of broth from those perfectly shaped lips.
It was like a power surge hitting a dead factory. Kong Jian jolted, suddenly aware of what she’d done. In a rare show of force, she grabbed the girl’s hand—the one carrying that faint, clean scent—and pulled it away.
“Starting tomorrow, I won’t come with you for breakfast anymore. And if there’s nothing else, I hope you won’t come looking for me, Junior.”
This girl was too strange.
It was the first time Kong Jian had met someone like her—a poppy flower, alluring and deadly.
Ning Yan tossed the used napkin aside with casual grace, seemingly oblivious to Kong Jian’s sudden chill. She brought the spoon—the one Kong Jian had just touched—back to her own mouth. Without the slightest hesitation, she traced her lips over the exact spot Kong Jian’s had covered.
The motion was as elegant as savoring a fine red wine in some upscale restaurant. She drew the few remaining droplets from the spoon into her mouth before smiling at her. “See, Senior? Eating breakfast isn’t so bad after all, is it?”
Kong Jian’s ears burned for a moment from Ning Yan’s gesture, beyond her control. She pushed aside the unfamiliar twinge of discomfort and forced herself to look calm. “I made myself very clear just now. This is the last time I’ll have breakfast with you, junior. Whether you’re playing dumb or actually didn’t hear me, starting tomorrow, I hope you won’t come looking for me anymore.”
Ning Yan let out a soft, mocking chuckle. The thin layer of vibrant eyeshadow at the corner of her eye traced an enigmatic allure as she lifted her gaze. “What are you afraid of, senior? Do you really think I’m going to eat you?”
Kong Jian’s heart skipped a beat. She shoved down the strange flutter and shot back with stubborn defiance. “Afraid of what?”
“If you’re not afraid, then why go out of your way to stop me from seeing you?”
Kong Jian grasped at a flimsy excuse. “Freshman year is the most crucial time for your studies. You need to focus your time and energy there.”
Ning Yan gave her a knowing half-smile. “Senior, I don’t think I’ve mentioned this to you yet, but I got the A University Full Scholarship. When it comes to time management, I’m probably not far behind you.”
The A University Full Scholarship was the prize A University reserved each year for its top incoming freshmen—one per major.
Kong Jian: “…”
She inwardly cursed Ning Yan for humblebragging and kept flailing for a way out. “I’ll be really busy. I need to study, and I don’t like being disturbed.”
“Does that mean, senior, aside from classes, you’ll be holed up in the library studying the rest of the time?”
I didn’t say that!
Kong Jian’s smile turned rigid. “Right.”
Ning Yan nodded. “In that case, I won’t be rude enough to bother a senior who’s trying to better herself.”
Kong Jian blinked in shock. She hadn’t expected two simple words—”study hard”—to shut her down so easily.
Her quiet glee lasted only a few seconds before the sharp clink of a spoon dropping into a porcelain bowl rang out.
“Senior, why are you still sitting there? It’s getting late. If we don’t head out soon, there won’t be any seats left in the library.”
“I want to learn from you too, senior, and become a better person. You don’t have morning classes, do you? Neither do I. So let’s just change our meetup spot to the library. You did say you were going to study hard—you wouldn’t have forgotten that already, would you?”
“…”
Talk about hoisting herself by her own petard.
Today, Kong Jian finally understood what that felt like.
