Proximity and Preference

Shen Jiayan fell in love with someone.

That person’s long hair always carried a faint fragrance, quiet and beautiful. No matter where she was, she attracted everyone’s gaze.

Yet few people could truly enter her heart.

Shen Jiayan was the exception.

She shared her notes with Shen Jiayan, invited her to her home, played the guzheng for her, and prepared a special prize just for her at the sports meet.

On holidays, she threw away all the chocolates that boys had stuffed into her desk drawer, but she kept only Shen Jiayan’s. She opened it and savored it right in front of her, smiling as she said it was delicious—making Shen Jiayan’s ears turn red.

For three years, Shen Jiayan harbored a secret crush under the guise of being deskmates. She had always believed that she was special to her.

But when Shen Jiayan finally mustered the courage to say, “I like you,” she saw thick surprise and confusion in her eyes.

“Sorry, did I make you misunderstand?” Her smile was strained as she preserved the last shred of dignity between them. “I only see you as a good friend, Yan Yan.”

–

Shen Jiayan’s youth ended with that failed confession. She locked away her feelings for the girl named Wen Wan Ning, and as she grew, those emotions drifted further and further away.

Shen Jiayan thought she would never cross paths with Wen Wan Ning again in her lifetime.

That was until they reunited after starting work. Shen Jiayan’s heart had grown calm like still water, but Wen Wan Ning shed her distant demeanor and began pursuing her relentlessly.

She drove her home, whispered goodnight to her, and kept finding work-related excuses to take her out to dinner…

Shen Jiayan felt exhausted by her attitude—and hated herself even more for still being unable to deliver a firm rejection:

“Lawyer Wen, normal people can’t just pretend nothing happened and stay good friends with someone who rejected them. Surely you know that?”

“Of course I know.”

Wen Wan Ning leaned close to her ear. Her long hair carried that familiar faint fragrance from their memories, and her voice was soft and languid, stirring a light tremor in Shen Jiayan’s heart:

“But I’m chasing you now, Yan Yan.”