Chapter 20: The Kind of “Like” Where I Want to Be with Her…

Wen Wan Ning glanced toward her home and suddenly thought of something.

She turned to Shen Jia Yan and said, “As long as you don’t get mad, I’ll take you to my place and play the guzheng for you.”

Shen Jia Yan’s previously drooping eyelashes lifted in an instant. The hazy fog in her eyes scattered like it had been blown away by a sudden gust of wind. The corners of her mouth curved upward involuntarily, her tense jawline softened immediately, and her whole demeanor seemed infused with light.

“Really?” The excitement in her voice was impossible to hide, even her hair tips seemed to dance with joy, swaying gently as she nodded.

Wen Wan Ning caught sight of her sudden burst of enthusiasm and her lips hooked up slightly. “Of course, as long as you promise not to get mad.”

Shen Jia Yan agreed without a second thought. “Okay, I won’t get mad.”

Wen Wan Ning turned and continued walking forward. “Then let’s go. My parents aren’t home today anyway.”

“Mm.” Shen Jia Yan followed Wen Wan Ning with her heart full of joy.

So she was really looking forward to hearing me play the guzheng.

The two entered the neighborhood and took the elevator to the fifth floor.

Wen Wan Ning opened the door and led Shen Jia Yan inside.

She took a pair of white slippers adorned with little flowers from the shoe cabinet and placed them at Shen Jia Yan’s feet. “We don’t usually have guests at home. Is it okay if you wear my slippers?”

“Yes, of course.” Shen Jia Yan nodded eagerly, though the tips of her ears turned red involuntarily.

Wen Wan Ning, who had a slight case of mysophobia, was willing to share such a personal item with her. Did that mean their relationship was—something special?

Afterward, Wen Wan Ning led her to the study and pointed at the sofa. “Have a seat first. I’ll go get you some water.”

Shen Jia Yan felt a bit stiff. “No need to trouble yourself.”

Wen Wan Ning laughed. “So eager to hear me play?”

“I…”

“Okay, I’m just teasing.” Wen Wan Ning slipped off her school uniform jacket and draped it over her arm. “Sit tight. I’ll be right back.”

“Okay.”

After Wen Wan Ning left, Shen Jia Yan surveyed the surroundings, her eyes immediately drawn to the guzheng by the window.

The sandalwood body of the instrument gleamed with a warm luster in the slanting sunlight, its twenty-one strings flowing like water, the tassels at the end swaying gently in the breeze.

She stood and walked over slowly.

The coiled lotus pattern carved at the head of the instrument was somewhat worn, revealing the wood’s natural grain—likely from frequent caresses by the player.

“Want to give it a try?”

The sudden voice from behind startled her, and she whipped around. “No, no, I don’t know how at all. I don’t want to ruin such a nice guzheng.”

Wen Wan Ning set down the glass of water and walked to her side. “It’s fine. I can teach you.”

“Better not. I’d rather hear you play.”

“Alright.” Wen Wan Ning went to the guzheng bench, her slender fingers lightly brushing the strings to produce a series of clear harmonics. She turned sideways and gave Shen Jia Yan a shallow smile. “Go sit down then. I poured you some iced water—you’re sweating.”

Shen Jia Yan then noticed the damp strands of hair on her forehead. She nodded. “Okay, thanks.” There was a hint of barely perceptible nervousness in her voice.

She retreated to the sofa and sat down, picking up the glass. The condensed water droplets on the outside wetted her fingertips. She took a sip, the coolness sliding down her throat and easing the summer heat.

Wen Wan Ning sat properly on the bench, her slender waist and back held straight. She tucked a stray hair behind her ear, revealing her fair side profile. “Can I start?”

“Of course.” Shen Jia Yan unconsciously lightened her breathing, as if afraid to disturb something. Her gaze fell on the fingers resting on the strings—those hands looked almost transparent in the sunlight, faint blue veins visible beneath.

Wen Wan Ning’s smile deepened at the corners of her lips.

The moment her fingertips plucked the strings, she transformed.

Her usually messy, tousled hair now hung obediently by her ears, her neck curving into an elegant arc. Sunlight filtered through her semi-translucent earlobe, illuminating the tiny fuzz on her earlobe.

“Zheng—” As the first note fell, her eyelashes trembled. Her right wrist hovered in the air, and her left pinky lifted slightly when pressing the strings.

The music poured out like flowing water, a look of intense focus appearing between her brows.

Her fingers danced lightly on the strings, occasionally brushing against them with a faint frictional sound.

In the passionate sections, her shoulders rose slightly with the force, her collarbone faintly visible beneath her neckline. In the gentle passages, her breathing seemed to merge with the melody, her chest rising and falling in a soft, restrained rhythm.

Most captivating were the moments when she lifted her eyes. When her gaze rose from the strings, her eyes still held the emotions of the music—moist and bright.

In that instant, her immersed expression made Shen Jia Yan’s heart race wildly.

As the music faded, her fingers gave the strings a final gentle sweep, the lingering notes echoing softly. She looked up at Shen Jia Yan, her lips curving into a shy arc. “Was it good?”

Her voice was softer than the guzheng, yet it threw Shen Jia Yan’s heartbeat into chaos.

“Really good.” And the person is really beautiful.

Wen Wan Ning’s eyes curved slightly, a gentle smile blooming on her lips. “This is the first time I’ve played the guzheng one-on-one for someone else.”

Shen Jia Yan was momentarily stunned.

Her heart felt gently squeezed by a warm hand, an indescribable warmth slowly seeping into the softest corners of her heart.

Those words were like a pebble dropped into the calm lake of her heart, sending ripples spreading outward.

She cleared her throat lightly. “Very, very good.”

Wen Wan Ning stood and walked to her side. “So, you’re not mad anymore?”

“Huh?” Shen Jia Yan had long forgotten about being mad; she hadn’t expected Wen Wan Ning to still be thinking about it. “Oh, no, not mad. I already promised you.”

Wen Wan Ning nodded in satisfaction, then asked, “Now that you’ve heard me play, want to come sit in my bedroom?”

“?” Shen Jia Yan didn’t react at first.

She really wanted to see Wen Wan Ning’s bedroom, but after coming in, she’d been brought straight to the study with no chance to look around. Plus, considering Wen Wan Ning’s mysophobia and her emphasis on privacy, she hadn’t dared to ask.

Wen Wan Ning’s hand rested on the doorknob as she turned back with a teasing smile. “If you don’t want to, forget it.”

Shen Jia Yan shot to her feet. “I do, I do!” Her urgent tone betrayed her fear that Wen Wan Ning might change her mind.

Wen Wan Ning chuckled lightly. “Come on then.”

“Mm.” Shen Jia Yan hurried after her.

Wen Wan Ning pushed open the bedroom door.

A wave of lavender scent, just like the one on her body, mingled with the smell of sunshine, hit them.

“Come in.” She stepped aside, a smile playing on her lips.

Once inside, she pointed to the bay window padded with floral cushions. “Sit there first. I’ll go wash some fruit.”

“Okay.”

After sitting down, Shen Jia Yan’s gaze swept over the room.

The milky-white sheer curtains were tied into elegant butterfly knots. On the solid wood desk, stationery was arranged neatly, the black ballpoint pen lying beside it, and the edges of the sticky notes aligned as if measured with a ruler.

The bed was impeccably flat without a single wrinkle, the pale pink sheets folded at sharp right angles at the edges. On the bedside table sat a few novels covered in plain book jackets, their spines arranged perfectly by height.

Shen Jia Yan thought to herself: What a beautiful room. But Wen Wan Ning probably doesn’t just have mysophobia—she might have a touch of OCD too.

She sat motionless on the bay window, afraid to disturb the pristine order anywhere.

Wen Wan Ning came in with strawberries and laughed at her rigid posture. “Why are you sitting so straight, like you’re in class? Relax a bit.”

She set the strawberries on the small bay window table and picked one up to hand to her. “Have a strawberry.”

Shen Jia Yan took it. “Mm, okay.”

As she ate, her peripheral vision caught sight of what looked like a manga book at the corner of the desk.

She pulled out a tissue, wiped her hands, and reached for the book.

“So even the top students in our key high school’s Experimental Class read this?” Shen Jia Yan waved the manga book, deliberately drawing out her tone.

Wen Wan Ning’s cheeks flushed red as she reached to snatch it back.

Shen Jia Yan jumped up instantly, book in hand, and dashed to the bed, flashing her a provocative grin.

Wen Wan Ning lunged to grab it, her hair tips brushing Shen Jia Yan’s neck, tickling her into laughter.

In the tussle, one of them lost balance first, and they tumbled onto the soft bed together.

Wen Wan Ning’s wrist was pinned, Shen Jia Yan’s knee pressing down on the hem of her clothes, the manga book long since flown who-knew-where.

“Give up?” Shen Jia Yan panted, her eyes sparkling with triumphant mischief.

Wen Wan Ning said nothing.

They were too close.

The sudden silence thickened the air.

Shen Jia Yan hovered over Wen Wan Ning, stray hairs falling down. She gazed into Wen Wan Ning’s eyes, mere inches away—the amber hue transparent in the sunlight, revealing the fine patterns in her irises.

In that instant, she heard her own deafening heartbeat and felt the equally rapid pulse under her hand on Wen Wan Ning’s wrist.

Wen Wan Ning looked at her reddened ear tips and suddenly realized that this girl, who was always so composed, now had breathing as erratic as her own.

“Jia Yan.” She called her name suddenly, her voice half an octave lower than usual.

Her warm breath brushed Shen Jia Yan’s collarbone, her eyelashes casting fan-shaped shadows under her eyes.

Only then did Shen Jia Yan notice how ambiguous their position was.

She jerked upright, pretending to straighten her already neat collar, her cheeks flushing like the evening glow.

“Um…”

Wen Wan Ning sat up too, smoothing her hair. “Have some more strawberries.”

“Ah, yeah, okay.”

※

In the darkness, the ceiling loomed like a blurry movie screen. Shen Jia Yan lay on her back in bed, staring up at it.

The hum of the air conditioner buzzed in her ears but couldn’t drown out the restless thumping in her chest.

Her memory uncontrollably flashed back to that moment during the day.

The pale pink sheets carried the scent of sun-dried warmth. As she hovered over Wen Wan Ning, her elbows sank into the soft down comforter, her whole body involuntarily sinking closer.

In her memory, Shen Jia Yan saw her own panicked reflection in Wen Wan Ning’s eyes. Her breath had swept over her lips, carrying fragrance.

Shen Jia Yan rolled over, burying her burning face in the pillow.

This must be what it feels like to like someone.

Regardless of status, gender, or anything else.

The thought spread like ink dropped into clear water, suddenly diffusing through her heart.

Her phone screen lit up suddenly, snapping her out of the memory.

Wen Wan Ning: [Asleep yet?]

Those simple three words sent her heart into total chaos. Shen Jia Yan stared at the “typing…” above the chat box and suddenly confirmed her feelings.

She really liked Wen Wan Ning.

The kind of like where she wanted to be with her.

Her fingers hovered over the screen for a long time before finally typing: [Not yet. What’s up?]

Wan Ning: [Nothing big. I was thinking the photos you took during the day looked really good. Forgot to ask—can you send them to me?]

Shen Jia Yan replied instantly: [Of course.]

Wen Wan Ning’s lips curved up. She glanced at the time and asked: [It’s so late and you’re not asleep—studying?]

Shen Jia Yan typed and deleted before sending: [No, just thinking.]

Wan Ning: [Thinking about what?]

Shen Jia Yan thought for a moment and replied: [Thinking about what to eat tomorrow morning (haha.jpg)]

She didn’t tell the truth. In reality, she was thinking about how, when Wen Wan Ning’s eyelashes brushed shadows across her face, she had an impulse to lean down and kiss her.

Wen Wan Ning didn’t suspect a thing. [Alright then. Get some sleep soon—you’ll know what to eat when you wake up. Good night.]

Jia Yan: [Okay, good night.]