Over the next few days, Tang Tianman carefully checked Zheng Xiyu’s class schedule, making sure she never got another chance to catch her in the mascot costume.
It wasn’t as if she could explain to Zheng Xiyu that this was something her department head had ordered her to do—and even if she did explain, Tang Tianman suspected Zheng Xiyu would still help her out.
To Tang Tianman, it was just an experiential activity. But to Zheng Xiyu, it seemed like a real ordeal.
Every time the thought crossed her mind, Tang Tianman would hide inside the costume and chuckle to herself for a good long while.
Zheng Xiyu really was a good person.
Zheng Xiyu really was so good to her.
They passed those days in peace, and the Publicity Department’s “opening ceremony” for Activity Month was finally complete.
The various staff members’ materials and drafts had all been uploaded to the group chat, leaving Tang Tianman with little to do but review them.
“Finally done,” Ruan Ruan said as she pulled back the bed curtain and saw Tang Tianman watching her drama. She let out a sigh.
“Yeah, it’s been non-stop lately,” Tang Tianman replied, cupping her own cheeks. “I’ve spun so much I swear I’ve lost weight.”
Ruan Ruan’s face darkened instantly. “I feel like that’s a personal attack.”
“If Baby feels that way, put down the cake in your hand,” Tang Tianman said, blowing her a kiss. “Be good.”
“Ew, gross.” Ruan Ruan yanked the curtain shut again and lay on her bed, pondering the meaning of life.
After finishing the episode, Tang Tianman called out, “Why do I feel like your attitude toward me has been extra bad lately?”
“I’m reflecting on it too.” Their voices carried across the thin fabric divider.
“And what’s the result?”
“Sigh… probably jealousy, I guess. There were so many people chasing you back then, but you always ended up hanging out with me anyway. Now Zheng Xiyu has stolen that special feeling—that sense of accomplishment—and I’m jealous of her.”
“She’s not chasing me,” Tang Tianman said.
“That’s the scary part. She hasn’t even tried, and you’re already like this. Imagine if she did.”
“What are you even saying!” Tang Tianman yanked open the curtain and clambered onto Ruan Ruan’s bed. “Right now, I think we’re just having a really good time together, that’s all.”
“Oh.” Ruan Ruan ignored her.
A twinge of guilt stirred in Tang Tianman’s chest. She really had been paying less attention to Ruan Ruan lately, her thoughts drifting to Zheng Xiyu far too often. It felt a little like favoring the new over the old.
She stared for a moment at Ruan Ruan, who lay on the bed gazing at the ceiling, then slapped her plump arm. “The weather’s gorgeous today. Let’s go hang out at the Comprehensive Plaza.”
“Why there? Too many people.”
“That’s what makes it fun—it’s lively! A ton of activities are happening there.”
“Too basic,” Ruan Ruan said, waving her off. “It’s like a flea market.”
“That’s exactly what’s great about it—super down-to-earth.” Tang Tianman grabbed her arm and shook it vigorously. “Come on, get moving. Don’t just flop down after eating.”
“Fine, fine…” Ruan Ruan surrendered.
They tidied up quickly and headed out. The sky was clear and bright, with tall deciduous trees shedding the occasional yellow leaf. The atmosphere was perfect.
The Comprehensive Plaza was N University’s largest open space, and right now it buzzed like a marketplace. Stalls from every college and club ringed the area, teeming with energy.
Ruan Ruan wasn’t into it. Her work with the Student Union involved liaising with all these groups—she’d reviewed every single one of their proposals herself.
Tang Tianman tried dragging her into the thick of the crowd, but Ruan Ruan hated the heat of packed spaces. Leveraging her size advantage, she pulled Tang Tianman in the opposite direction, toward quieter spots.
Wherever there were fewer people, that’s where she headed. Before long, they reached the loneliest “stall” of all.
It wasn’t much of a stall—others at least had tables, chairs, and umbrellas. This one was just a single X-shaped display stand.
The sign was simple: “Love Hug.” Anyone needing a hug could stand there, and any willing passerby could step up to deliver one.
A skinny little guy stood behind it, gripping the stand with one hand while scrolling on his phone with the other. When they approached, his face filled with panic.
As if he were terrified of anyone thinking he wanted a hug.
Ruan Ruan sighed and shook her head, whispering, “This isn’t gonna work.”
“What’s wrong?” Tang Tianman asked.
“He’s so shy running the event—how’s anyone supposed to relax?” Ruan Ruan eyed the boy. “The proposal looked solid when it crossed my desk, but look at this. Not a single soul.”
Tang Tianman nudged her. “Why don’t you demonstrate? Get the ball rolling?”
Ruan Ruan shot her a glare. “You think I won’t?”
Tang Tianman patted her shoulder. “Go for it, my Big Baby.”
And Ruan Ruan did. She strode right up to the boy. “Do you want a hug?”
He jumped. “I-I’m just running the event…”
“Doesn’t matter who you are. You’re standing right here. Do you want a hug?”
Only then did he get a good look at her face. He gave a helpless laugh. “Senior Sister.”
“How many people have signed up for your event today?” Ruan Ruan pressed, full of authority.
His eyes darted around. He mumbled for a bit, then held up one finger.
“One? Not bad. So what happened? How many hugs did that person get?” She pointed at the camera around his neck. “Show me the photos.”
He swallowed hard. “That one… was you.”
Ruan Ruan: “…”
Tang Tianman couldn’t stop laughing. She walked over. “Don’t scare him like that. Just do a demo.”
“Fine.” Ruan Ruan clutched the big red heart-shaped acrylic board to her chest and stepped aside. “For my record, write that I did it because I’m too fat and insecure. I feel like no one likes me, so I wanted a love hug.”
The boy panicked even more. “Senior Sister, you’re not fat…”
“You’re lying with your eyes wide open!” Ruan Ruan snapped at him. “Write it!”
Trembling, he scribbled it down in his notebook.
Tang Tianman dashed back a good distance, then pretended she’d just wandered up and spotted a girl in need of a hug. She widened her eyes in exaggerated surprise.
Ruan Ruan nearly cracked up.
“Quick, take the photo,” she called to the boy. “She’s coming to hug me.”
“Oh, right!” He fumbled for his camera.
Sure enough, Tang Tianman charged over, arms flung wide in dramatic fashion. She moved slowly enough for him to capture the perfect shot.
She finally reached Ruan Ruan, who beamed radiantly while hugging the heart board. They were just a meter apart, on the verge of contact—
When someone cut in.
A tall, skinny girl wearing black-rimmed glasses.
With a light, almost instantaneous motion, she wrapped Ruan Ruan in a hug.
Ruan Ruan froze. So did Tang Tianman.
The girl was impeccably clean—the kind of cleanliness that hit visually, olfactorily, even as a sort of synesthetic purity.
Her white shirt gleamed whiter than most. Her ponytail was perfectly neat, every strand silky and in place.
Ruan Ruan caught her scent before she could even see her face: bright, pristine, so harmoniously put-together it bordered on rigid.
Ruan Ruan’s first thought was that she must have OCD. Even if not, no one would dare tarnish her.
And yet here was Ruan Ruan, who had crunched on a chip on her way out that morning, whose hair she’d only washed the night before, whose jacket… well, she’d worn it a couple days ago and figured it was still fine.
She had sullied this girl.
This kind stranger who had popped up out of nowhere.
Tsk. Ruan Ruan smacked her lips inwardly but didn’t dare move a muscle.
The hug was brief—a gentle enfoldment that lasted just a second or two before she let go.
She turned to leave, but the boy called out in a rush, “Classmate! Classmate! Can I get your feelings on that?”
She paused and glanced back at him, her expression neutral. “My feelings?”
Ruan Ruan wanted to throttle the poor, clueless guy.
“Yeah, yeah, your feelings.” He struck a note-taking pose. “Why did you hug a total stranger so quickly?”
The girl adjusted her glasses, which covered half her palm-sized face. “Because she looks soft.”
“Huh?”
The boy, Tang Tianman, and Ruan Ruan blurted it out in unison.
The girl pushed her glasses up again. “Is there a problem?”
Ruan Ruan jumped in. “You mean the soft-soft kind of soft?”
The girl turned to her and nodded.
“Not some other kind of soft?”
She nodded again.
Ruan Ruan burst out laughing. “It’s mostly because my name is Ruan Ruan—the ruuan from ‘soft.’ I thought you knew me.”
“I do now. It suits you perfectly,” the girl said.
Ruan Ruan wasn’t sure whether to thank her.
The girl nodded. “Goodbye.”
Ruan Ruan blinked, still dazed. “Goodbye.”
With that light, swift step, the girl was gone.
Ruan Ruan stared after her retreating figure for a long moment.
“Tsk, tsk, tsk…” Tang Tianman looked her up and down, thoroughly impressed. “What kind of luck is this? We go downstairs and boom—story of the day.”
Ruan Ruan shoved the red heart sign into Tang Tianman’s arms. “Here. Go make your own story.”
“I-I-I…” Tang Tianman tried to hand it back, but Ruan Ruan had already walked off. She turned to the boy, who gazed at her with pleading eyes.
The message was clear: Senior Sister, please, one more for the road?
Tang Tianman sighed and just stood there holding the heart. “Well, me? I… I can’t even think of a reason why I’d need a hug.”
Ruan Ruan raised her hand as if to hit her: “So pretentious.”
Tang Tianman burst out laughing, leaving the male classmates stunned: “Then what should I remember about senior sister…”
Ruan Ruan said: “Remember that she’s so short she can’t even reach for a normal hug, so she’s super insecure about it.”
Tang Tianman cracked up: “You deserve a beating. Why do you have to pick on her insecurity?”
“People who aren’t insecure don’t need hugs.” Ruan Ruan scanned the crowd; the girl from earlier was long gone. “Everyone’s got some insecurity.”
Tang Tianman hung her head: “I’m afraid of getting hugged bald and skinless.”
Ruan Ruan: “Don’t worry, I’m watching. Only girls al—fuck.”
Tang Tianman: “??? What did you say???”
Ruan Ruan stared straight ahead: “What I said doesn’t matter—fuck, someone’s coming. Tang Tianman, you can still run now.”
“Who is it, some flood or wild beast?” Tang Tianman huffed. “Who at N University am I afraid of?”
“That girl who confessed to you downstairs last time!” Ruan Ruan pointed into the distance. “What kind of people do you attract in a single day? I looked her up later—she’s Xiao Ji from the Music Academy. Rumor has it she’s got a dragon tattoo!”
“Huh?” Tang Tianman was shocked. “A dragon?”
“Yeah, half her back, one dragon—triad shit, holy crap.”
“Who even gets such an outdated tattoo these days?” Tang Tianman couldn’t wrap her head around it.
“I don’t know if it’s outdated, but just looking at her makes my legs go weak.” Ruan Ruan turned and yanked at the red heart plush in Tang Tianman’s arms. “Toss it, toss it. She’s heading straight for you—look at that intense stare. If she hugs you bald and skinless, I won’t be able to stop her…”
Tang Tianman didn’t let go; she was pissed.
In her world, running away never solved anything. She was never afraid of a head-on confrontation.
It wasn’t like they hadn’t clashed before—and she’d won last time.
She’d win this time too. After all, this girl had said she liked her first—that meant she’d already lost.
The red heart plush was clutched tightly in her arms: “If I run the second I see her coming, won’t that make me look like a total loser?”
Ruan Ruan looked at her like she was an idiot: “Didn’t realize you were so dramatic.”
Tang Tianman shook her head: “I’m not afraid of her. I’ve got a secret weapon.”
Ruan Ruan: “What?”
Tang Tianman glanced at her pocket: “Take my phone and call Zheng Xiyu.”
