In her freshman year, she had overheard it from a friend of Shen Tingwan’s. Of course, Sang Ning couldn’t answer like that, so she came up with an excuse on the spot. “Wei Xue mentioned it.”
She managed to say it calmly enough.
“I see.” Shen Tingwan smiled. It was just like Wei Xue’s style—whenever she learned something, she had to let the whole world know. “Thank you.”
Sang Ning secretly breathed a sigh of relief. Her lame excuse seemed to have gone undetected. She didn’t ask why Shen Tingwan was alone, afraid there might be something upsetting her.
Come to think of it, she had never seen Shen Tingwan unhappy. No matter the occasion, Shen Tingwan always carried herself with poise and grace. That was why everyone said Senior Shen was flawless, without even a hint of negative emotions.
But how could anyone lack negative emotions entirely? Sang Ning was often praised for her optimism too, but she knew that most of the time, the bad feelings were simply swallowed and digested in silence.
After the simple birthday wish, the atmosphere returned to calm, but Sang Ning still felt it wasn’t enough.
Shen Tingwan had thought that clinking glasses that evening would count as her birthday celebration. But about ten minutes later, she saw Sang Ning answer a phone call and step out.
When she returned, Sang Ning was carrying a cake box.
Shen Tingwan froze, staring in disbelief. She asked the person in front of her, “Did you buy this specially for me?”
Sang Ning was caught off guard by the question. Who else’s birthday could it be?
Shen Tingwan wanted to laugh. Sang Ning would probably never say something as direct and enthusiastic as “I bought this specially for you.”
Sang Ning tacitly agreed and replied calmly, “I could only get a small one on short notice.” It sounded just like her earlier “Happy birthday”—purely polite, nothing more.
This was the first time she had taken the initiative, but she felt that Shen Tingwan’s birthday shouldn’t be brushed off so casually.
“A small one is just right. Too big, and the two of us couldn’t finish it.” Shen Tingwan was still pleasantly surprised. Unexpected gestures always brought more delight than ones planned in advance, just like that sudden “Happy birthday” earlier—it warmed her heart.
Sang Ning unwrapped the cake and borrowed a lighter from the server, carefully lighting the candles.
The tiny flames flickered to life.
Shen Tingwan watched as a warm glow reflected on the clear, fair face before her. Her expression remained mild and composed. Shen Tingwan smiled subtly to herself. She had never seen someone prepare a surprise in such an “unenthusiastic” way. Was this part of repaying the favor?
Sang Ning finished lighting the candles and looked back at Shen Tingwan. “All set.”
Shen Tingwan understood and closed her eyes, making a somewhat sudden birthday wish for the year.
While her eyes were shut, Sang Ning’s gaze grew bolder, fixing unabashedly on her face. Her heart fluttered silently like the candle flames. Time was so useless—it hadn’t changed a thing. She knew it was impossible, but she couldn’t help liking her…
Before Shen Tingwan opened her eyes, she reined in her wayward stare.
Shen Tingwan blew out the candles. “Let’s eat the cake.”
It was lime-flavored, with just the right sweetness—refreshing and not cloying.
Shen Tingwan had another small surprise; even the flavor was exactly to her taste. She couldn’t help saying to Sang Ning, “How are you so good at picking these?”
Sang Ning feigned ignorance. “What?”
Shen Tingwan: “I really like this flavor.”
Sang Ning murmured softly, “Me too.”
Shen Tingwan: “What a coincidence.”
Sang Ning hummed an “Mm,” though she felt a twinge of guilt. Shen Tingwan’s tastes hadn’t changed.
As they ate the cake, Shen Tingwan asked, “When’s your birthday?”
Sang Ning mumbled vaguely, “It’s still a while away.”
Shen Tingwan didn’t let her dodge. “Which day?”
Sang Ning had no choice but to specify: “The day before Christmas Eve.”
Shen Tingwan said, “Mm.”
Sang Ning took a bite of cake into her mouth—soft and sweetly silky.
They chatted a bit more about life after graduation, the kind of standard senior-junior conversation.
The meal was quiet, but Shen Tingwan found it comfortable. Occasional words flowed without complications or detours, relaxed and easy.
The two of them left the restaurant.
It was later into the night now, with more stars dotting the sky.
The night breeze was gentle, carrying the warmth of summer.
Sang Ning looked up. The bright moon hung round and radiant in the sky—so beautiful. After her hearing worsened, her eyes had grown sharper, always spotting pretty things first.
Shen Tingwan followed her gaze. The sky was cloudless tonight, stars and moon shining brightly. She sighed softly, “The moon is so pretty tonight.”
Sang Ning turned slightly at the sound and saw Shen Tingwan also gazing upward, her smile gentle. Suddenly, it felt like the moon wasn’t in the sky but right beside her, so close.
Shen Tingwan turned her head too.
This time, Sang Ning didn’t avert her eyes in time. Their gazes met.
After a moment of eye contact, Shen Tingwan asked, “Want to take a photo?”
Sang Ning realized her thoughts had been seen through. She had a habit of capturing beautiful scenery in pictures.
Without a camera, she made do with her phone. Sang Ning pulled it out, aiming at the night sky, adjusting the composition, angle, and proportions.
Shen Tingwan stood quietly beside her, watching as the photographer became fully immersed.
When Sang Ning captured a satisfying shot, her lips curved unconsciously. She didn’t even notice.
Shen Tingwan saw it. She stared at Sang Ning’s mouth—perhaps in high spirits, her smile tonight was sweeter than usual. She couldn’t resist asking, “That happy about it?”
Sang Ning hadn’t caught it and turned to look at Shen Tingwan. “What?”
Shen Tingwan’s eyes filled with that clear, pure smile. She gazed quietly for a moment, then said softly, “You take it.”
Her impression of Sang Ning was “simple”—in her words, in her smiles.
She had met all sorts of people, those who wore different masks and crafted personas. That wasn’t hard. But this simple, clean vibe was hard to fake, so it was rare.
Shen Tingwan glanced at the moon, then at the person beside her. Her previously dull mood lifted unexpectedly. She had spent a comfortable, delightful birthday—very special.
After taking the photo, Sang Ning put away her phone.
Shen Tingwan was curious. “Let me see.”
Sang Ning leaned over and handed her the phone.
Shen Tingwan looked down. “It’s beautiful. Not surprising from a pro.”
Sang Ning’s peripheral vision quickly swept over her profile. Praised—she felt happy.
After a few minutes of moon shots, with no mention of other plans from Shen Tingwan, Sang Ning figured staying with her too long must be boring. She took the initiative: “Nothing else? I’ll head back then.”
Shen Tingwan noticed she seemed eager to go—and she was a bit tired herself. “I’m heading back too. Together.”
Sang Ning: “No need to trouble you, Senior.”
Another line keeping distance. Shen Tingwan leaned closer, looking at her, and asked warmly, “What if Senior doesn’t mind the trouble?”
They stood close now. Sang Ning looked at her smile and felt an illusion of intimacy.
Shen Tingwan parted her lips. “Let’s go. Get in.”
Her voice was surely gentle. Sang Ning strained to catch it—she loved Shen Tingwan’s soft tone, but it was too hard for her unless she whispered right into her right ear. Impossible…
On the way back, they didn’t chat as usual. Shen Tingwan played some light, relaxing music.
After five songs, she pulled up outside the apartment from last time.
Before getting out, Shen Tingwan stopped her. “Sang Ning.”
Her name again. Sang Ning turned back.
“I had a great time tonight.” Shen Tingwan’s eyes held a smile. After returning to the country, she’d been busy and tense. It had been ages since she’d felt this relaxed.
Sang Ning couldn’t tell if it was politeness or genuine, but she got the message—this happiness involved her.
She gave Shen Tingwan a shallow smile and secretly thought, Me too.
She had wished Shen Tingwan happy birthday. Shen Tingwan had eaten the cake she bought. They’d watched the moon together, listened to songs on the drive…
Any one of those would make her happy for a long time.
Shen Tingwan chuckled softly. “Goodbye.”
Sang Ning murmured back, “Goodbye, Senior.”
Shen Tingwan sensed something special about her—seemingly distant and aloof, yet her eyes were so soft.
*
Back at the apartment, Sang Ning turned on the AC first to cool the room.
July in Birch City was sweltering; air conditioning was indispensable. After her shower, she stepped out of the bathroom into the chill, goosebumps rising on her skin.
Too much had happened tonight for her to process, leaving her wide awake deep into the night.
The AC was blasting. Sang Ning pulled the blanket tighter around her and idly posted the moon photo from earlier to her Moments, cool and serene, hiding her feelings.
Likes trickled in, but she ignored them until a familiar avatar popped up. She tapped to check.
Shen Tingwan had liked it.
She stared blankly, a subtle, indescribable feeling washing over her.
So Shen Tingwan checked Moments. She posted rarely, maybe once a year, so Sang Ning had thought she never bothered with it.
Sleepless, she tapped into Shen Tingwan’s profile and scrolled through familiar posts.
Her latest was from months ago—not even one about returning to the country, so Sang Ning hadn’t known.
She scrolled chronologically; every post was familiar.
Shen Tingwan rarely posted herself—mostly scenery.
Further down was a piano video. Sang Ning tapped it. She’d watched it countless times, always zoning out—remembering Shen Tingwan playing at the welcome party, when she first understood what heart-fluttering felt like.
She rewatched it a few times. As she went to exit, her finger slipped over the bottom left corner. A red heart lit up. Her heart stopped; she quickly canceled it.
Her pulse raced. She set the phone down, pulled the blanket over her head, and took deep breaths.
She reassured herself.
Shen Tingwan wouldn’t notice.
…
Shen Tingwan wasn’t asleep either. She rarely checked Moments but cleared notifications periodically. With a casual glance, she thought she’d misread—it was Sang Ning’s avatar.
She’d liked her post.
Shen Tingwan went to check, frowning slightly.
A post from three years ago.
