Chapter 40

Last night during their phone call, Sang Ning had wondered if Shen Tingwan was unhappy. Hearing her say that now, she took the initiative to ask, “What’s wrong?”

Shen Tingwan looked into her eyes, momentarily unsure of how to respond.

Seeing this, Sang Ning said, “It’s okay if you don’t want to talk about it. If you do feel like saying something later, you can tell me.”

Shen Tingwan smiled. “You’re so nice?”

Sang Ning smiled without replying. She hoped Shen Tingwan would always be happy.

They sat for a while. Then Shen Tingwan raised the camera to take a photo. In the distance, a couple’s silhouette entered the frame, and even farther away loomed the Giant Ferris Wheel they’d ridden last time.

After capturing the distant view, Shen Tingwan turned the lens toward the person beside her.

Sang Ning noticed and turned her head.

Shen Tingwan pressed the shutter, freezing the moment—the wind tousling her hair, paired with a serene, pale face that carried a sense of story in the night.

Sang Ning usually photographed others and wasn’t often the subject herself. “Why are you taking my picture?”

“You photographed me all evening. Can’t I take one of you?” Shen Tingwan said as she kept the lens trained on her. “Smile.”

Sang Ning suddenly felt a bit stiff.

Shen Tingwan seemed dissatisfied and urged her on. “Junior, smile sweeter.”

Seeing Shen Tingwan’s enthusiastic expression, Sang Ning couldn’t help but smile. Facing the person she liked, she didn’t even need to try—her smile bloomed brilliantly on its own.

Shen Tingwan studied the screen intently. She really liked Sang Ning’s eyes—they were bright and soft, the kind that seemed made for loving someone.

“See how I did?”

Sang Ning leaned in to look at the camera screen and realized her gaze had been too unrestrained, brimming with affection.

Shen Tingwan noticed her silence. “You don’t like it?”

Sang Ning replied, “I like it. It’s great.”

Shen Tingwan glanced at her face. “The model is beautiful.”

Being called beautiful by Shen Tingwan made Sang Ning shy. She glanced at her and murmured, “Senior, you’re the beautiful one.”

“Am I?” Shen Tingwan had no qualms about it. She turned her whole face toward Sang Ning, giving her a better look.

Sang Ning fell silent, her heart racing wildly again. She hadn’t realized before how much of a flirt Shen Tingwan could be, despite her outwardly gentle and aloof demeanor.

Shen Tingwan continued with a smile, “If you thought I was beautiful back in college, how come I never caught you paying attention to me?”

Sang Ning felt guilty and couldn’t respond. How could she not have paid attention? Her eyes had been full of nothing but Shen Tingwan.

Shen Tingwan looked down and scrolled through the photos, stopping at the first one she’d taken—the couple and the Ferris Wheel in a romantic, sweet scene.

Shen Tingwan remarked, “A bit sweet.”

Sang Ning agreed. “Yeah.”

Seizing the moment, Shen Tingwan asked, “Don’t you want to date anyone?”

Sang Ning shook her head. No one but Shen Tingwan moved her heart, so she’d never thought about dating.

Shen Tingwan paused for a moment before asking, “Do you still like that person?”

The topic came up again, and Sang Ning equivocated. “That was a long time ago.”

Curious, Shen Tingwan pressed gently. “Why didn’t you end up together?”

Maybe it was the atmosphere now, perfect for chatting, or maybe she’d bottled up her feelings for too long and occasionally wanted to let them out—especially to Shen Tingwan. Sang Ning smiled resignedly. “She wouldn’t like me.”

Shen Tingwan asked softly, “Why?”

Sang Ning still smiled. “Anyway, she wouldn’t.”

Though she’d said it with a smile, Shen Tingwan felt heartbroken seeing it. Those few words hid so much self-deprecation.

“Sang Ning.”

Sang Ning turned to look. Shen Tingwan’s eyes were like rippling water.

Shen Tingwan gazed at her earnestly. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re very likable?”

Sang Ning’s heart skipped first, then her nose tingled. She knew it was just comforting words—her senior was too kind.

Seeing that look in her eyes stirred an indescribable feeling in Shen Tingwan, who couldn’t help but ruffle her hair.

Sang Ning gazed at her quietly, curving her lips into a smile. She had so much already; she should be content.

Shen Tingwan noticed her staring. “What’s up?”

Sang Ning answered honestly. “I want to say ‘thank you,’ but you won’t let me.”

Shen Tingwan burst out laughing unexpectedly, though her heart still ached. “You’re such a fool.”

Sang Ning smiled too.

Shen Tingwan ruffled her hair again. If their relationship were a bit more intimate, she would have pulled her into her arms and comforted her properly.

Back home, Sang Ning didn’t idle around. That very night, she sorted through the photos. Every one of Shen Tingwan’s was beautiful to her, so she didn’t delete a single one.

The next morning, she sent the organized photos to Shen Tingwan.

Shen Tingwan asked: Did you stay up late last night?

Sang Ning replied: Not too late.

She’d been too happy last night to sleep, even without sorting the photos.

It rained again, bringing even more chill.

During the lunch break, Yu Shuang asked curiously, “What did you and your senior do last night? You vanished.”

Sang Ning said, “We went street photography.”

Yu Shuang sighed. “Out street photography in this freezing weather—true love for you.”

Sang Ning: “…”

Yu Shuang munched on fruit, unable to hold back. “Are you sure your senior isn’t pursuing you?”

“It’s not like that,” Sang Ning explained. “She doesn’t like girls.”

Yu Shuang gossiped while eating. “Did you ask her?”

Sang Ning recalled the past. “A girl confessed to her once, and she said it herself.”

Yu Shuang’s disappointment was visible. “Maybe she just hadn’t met the right one then. Anyway, I don’t think your senior is that straight…”

“Pretty big sisters have to be bent.” Yu Shuang started muttering her prayers again. She couldn’t stand seeing beauties paired with beasts—it gave her a heart attack every time.

Sang Ning almost laughed at her expression but lowered her head to eat fruit instead, saying nothing.

The afternoon kept them busy for another three hours.

At the end of the workday, Sang Ning messaged Shen Tingwan on purpose to ask what she was eating. She’d learned from chatting with Jiang Yunchun that Shen Tingwan lost her appetite when she was in a bad mood.

She wondered if her heart had settled down from yesterday.

Shen Tingwan happened to be free. After a busy day, she didn’t feel like typing and saw Sang Ning’s message, so she called directly.

Sang Ning picked up. “Senior.”

Shen Tingwan said, “I don’t know what to eat yet. No appetite.”

Sang Ning couldn’t hide her concern and said softly, “Don’t skip eating.”

That gentle sentence made Shen Tingwan suddenly realize being fussed over wasn’t so bad. She lowered her head and said casually, “I want to eat something you make.”

Sang Ning didn’t hesitate. “Okay.”

Always so accommodating. Shen Tingwan smiled quietly. “Tonight?”

Sang Ning: “Sure.”

Shen Tingwan thought for a moment and added, “Come to your place to eat.”

Sang Ning thought of something and chuckled.

Shen Tingwan heard it. “What are you laughing at?”

“Nothing.” Sang Ning realized Shen Tingwan was quite particular—about the jam before, about meals. It was like if another senior had something, she had to have it too, as if afraid of any favoritism.

Shen Tingwan glanced out the window. “It’s still raining. I’ll pick you up.”

They went grocery shopping at the supermarket together. It was quitting time, so it was crowded.

When Sang Ning nearly got bumped into, Shen Tingwan quietly took her hand and pulled her to her side.

Sang Ning glanced at her.

Shen Tingwan tugged her. “Let’s go.”

As they walked, Sang Ning asked, “What do you want to eat?”

Shen Tingwan said without reservation, “Make your specialty.”

They pushed the cart leisurely, stopping here and there, discussing and buying ingredients for a two-person dinner.

Winter, rainy days, traffic jams—things Shen Tingwan usually hated. But today, they barely affected her mood. Being with Sang Ning created a comfortable, gentle rhythm.

Sang Ning’s quiet happiness was infectious. She didn’t talk much but was attentive and considerate in just the right ways.

That evening, they crammed into the tiny kitchen to make dinner. Sang Ning had felt awkward at first—the space was so cramped—but Shen Tingwan didn’t mind at all. She realized her discomfort was unnecessary. They made two dishes and a soup, steaming hot on the table.

The mushroom soup that night was delicious; both drank plenty. Shen Tingwan casually mentioned work. “I’m going on a business trip to Q City next Tuesday for two days. Need a photographer to come along. You free?”

Sang Ning was flexible with work and quickly ran through her schedule in her head. “Yeah.”

Shen Tingwan briefly explained the shoot—mainly promo for scenic spots and hotels. “…They’ll send you the specific requirements.”

Sang Ning understood. “Got it.”

From the supermarket to dinner, Shen Tingwan’s heart stayed warm. She could feel that someone really cared if she was happy or not… though that someone was a bit reserved.

Shen Tingwan sipped the mushroom soup and smiled to herself.

Sang Ning looked at her, puzzled.

Shen Tingwan cut straight to it. “Are you worried I might be unhappy?”

Sang Ning tacitly agreed.

Shen Tingwan met her eyes. “Act spoiled and call me ‘Senior,’ and I’ll be happy.”

Such an odd request. Sang Ning paused, then smiled faintly and obliged. “Senior.”

Shen Tingwan couldn’t help but chuckle, laughing for a while. She hadn’t expected such compliance. “When you were drunk before, weren’t you good at acting spoiled?”

Sang Ning’s cheeks burned; she didn’t want to remember that. She played dumb stubbornly. “Was I?”

Shen Tingwan was amused. “Like this.”

Sang Ning was still confused. “Huh?”

Shen Tingwan mimicked her from that night, leaning in close, her eyes dropping to Sang Ning’s lips, her voice soft and light. “Senior…”