Ming You was very familiar with this route, so she didn’t need navigation. She drove there effortlessly, heading to the nearest commercial district.
After parking, Yan Ningxi led the way, and the two went to the official store of her phone brand.
The store clerk carefully inspected the phone and said, “Yours is lucky—only the outer screen is cracked, the inner one is fine. We’re an official store, so replacing the outer screen takes about two hours on average. Would you consider trading it in? Based on the assessment, it could offset around a thousand yuan.”
“Just replace the screen.” Getting a new phone wasn’t in Yan Ningxi’s plans.
“OK. Add me on your contacts, and I’ll notify you when it’s ready for pickup. We’ll go handle other things first.” Ming You took the initiative to add the clerk. As soon as they connected, she quickly sent a message: 【How much to replace the phone screen? Send me the number.】
The male clerk adapted on the fly and replied with one hand: 【If you just want the screen replaced, you could go to a third-party repair shop—it’s cheaper, four or five hundred for the outer screen.】
【Ming You: Quote the price】
【Clerk: Official price 780】 He had wanted to do a favor for the beauty, pointing her to a “better deal,” but she clearly wasn’t short on cash and didn’t care.
Just an 80-yuan difference? Yesterday’s 700 was still sitting unpaid from Ming You to Yan Ningxi.
Ming You walked straight to the cashier, scanned the payment code, and asked the clerk over her shoulder, “How much for the screen replacement?”
He had already answered that privately, and now she was asking out loud—what was this about? The clerk was baffled by this beautiful customer’s quirky move.
But the customer was god, so he answered seriously, “Nationwide uniform price—the screen replacement for your model costs 780 yuan.”
After paying, Ming You linked her arm with Yan Ningxi’s a bit apologetically. “Sigh, I underestimated it. I’ll cover the 80-yuan difference. Leave the phone here; he’ll message me when it’s done.”
She had planned that if it was more expensive, she’d privately tell the clerk to quote closer to 700. But since the actual difference was negligible, there was no need to fake it publicly.
Yan Ningxi powered off the phone and left it on the counter. She had no secrets on it, so she wasn’t worried about leaks.
…
The previous holiday had been National Day, so most new releases were patriotic main-melody films. There was only one family-friendly comedy and one romance. But Ming You had zero interest in romance movies.
Sci-fi was her favorite, but big-budget, high-quality ones had unpredictable schedules—you couldn’t plan for them.
Next up were arthouse films.
The only comedy from National Day had been out for nearly a month, with box office over 1.8 billion, ranking second among contemporaries and breaking through the pack.
To avoid duds, Ming You picked it.
While waiting, they ran into a bickering young couple.
The argument seemed to be: The girl wanted a romance movie, but the guy bought comedy tickets without telling her.
Once at the cinema, after he picked up the tickets, she realized it wasn’t the romance she wanted. She blamed him for lacking synergy and threw a little tantrum.
He coaxed her a few times with no luck, tossed the popcorn he’d been about to feed her back into the tub, grabbed his Coke, stood up, and said with a hint of aggression, “Are you done nagging? Are we watching or not? If not, let’s go. Arguing in front of everyone—embarrassing much?”
Called “embarrassing,” the girl’s temper flared. She shoved the popcorn to the ground, spilling it everywhere. “Annoyed by me and calling me embarrassing, huh? You’ve got guts—don’t you dare call me again. Whoever calls is a coward!”
The two stormed out of the cinema one after another. Staff came to clean up the spilled popcorn.
The best combo for a comedy was popcorn and Coke. Popcorn was fine in moderation, but Coke—the so-called “happy fat otaku water”—Ming You truly couldn’t stomach.
She pictured Yan Ningxi drinking Coke and munching popcorn; it was so mismatched it hurt to imagine. So she hadn’t even asked.
As they lined up for tickets, Ming You glanced at her ticket, smiled with her eyes, and held it up to Yan Ningxi. “Sister Yan, do you want to watch a romance? We can swap. I obey unconditionally.”
“No need.”
“Really not swapping?”
Yan Ningxi grabbed her wrist and snatched the ticket. “Stand properly. Stranger’s family drama—listen less, watch less, butt in less, empathize less.”
The line was long, so they had to mind their image—no physical pushing or pulling. But verbal sparring looked like flirty banter to outsiders.
Ming You stood at attention. “Yes, ma’am, Teacher Yan.”
…
After the movie, which had a 9.0 online rating, both Ming You and Yan Ningxi felt more relaxed.
Ming You even laughed out loud a few times during it.
Yan Ningxi didn’t make a sound, but every time Ming You leaned against her laughing, those moments pleased her more than the film’s weird jokes.
“My laugh threshold isn’t low, but I really enjoyed it today—I’ll give it a 9 as well.” Leaving the auditorium, Ming You naturally took Yan Ningxi’s hand. “Sister Yan, what did you think? Out of 10, what score?”
“9.5.” The extra 0.5 was for Ming You’s happiness.
“That high? I didn’t see you laugh.”
“Illogical. Not laughing doesn’t mean unhappy.”
So she was happy?
Ming You was in high spirits. No new message from the clerk yet—probably swamped since it was the weekend.
“It’s almost one. They’re busy; not done yet. Sister Yan, let’s grab lunch first, then pick up the phone after.”
“Sure.”
They took the escalator down from the other side. Just one floor down, Ming You got drawn to a prominent ad board for the Cute Pet Pavilion’s opening.
Yan Ningxi noticed her pause and glanced over. “Want to go?”
Ming You startled. “Can we? Do you have time?”
She was self-centered, sure, but deep down not selfish—she wouldn’t demand everyone cater to her or throw fits if they didn’t.
She might not even realize Yan Ningxi was taming her volatile wild side.
“Sure.”
Yan Ningxi’s “sure” came from canceling an afternoon appointment.
For lunch, they had Thai hotpot together.
Spicy and sour was Yan Ningxi’s baseline for Thai food flavors, but since she’d let Ming You decide, she’d respect it and try.
The taste and texture weren’t as bad as imagined.
Ming You told her about school stuff and competition bits. Ming You’s pleasant voice and pretty smile were perfect flavor enhancers.
Qi Xuexin told her lots of stories too, animatedly, with way juicier content than Ming You’s everyday tales—but she only half-listened to the highlights. Ming You’s simple narration, though? She caught every word and couldn’t stop watching her.
Her skin fresh and supple, her beauty a feast.
A feast for the eyes. Truly.
After lunch, they picked up the phone and headed to the Cute Pet Pavilion on the third floor.
Couple tickets were 198 yuan. Ming You was quick to pay. She’d noticed at the restaurant: Yan Ningxi had no intention of competing to foot the bill today.
No competition was good. Less brainpower and lip service wasted; her heart felt inexplicably at ease.
The door poster clearly stated: the first indoor cute pet pavilion, about 1500 square meters, divided into 8 zones with parrots, chinchillas, raccoons, lop rabbits, alpacas, and other universally adored cuties.
Plenty of curious onlookers—adults and kids—but not yet packed shoulder-to-shoulder.
Once inside, seeing kids running wild everywhere, Ming You second-guessed herself a bit. She’d bought tickets without checking the scene—rash.
“Let’s check the Chinchilla Pavilion.” Yan Ningxi pulled her deeper in.
Each pavilion had separate interactive zones; visitors bought extra tickets for close contact and feeding.
Ming You was irritated by the kids’ ear-splitting shrieks, her head heating up, body filled with lethargy. She didn’t even notice Yan Ningxi buying interactive tickets.
“Welcome to the Chinchilla Pavilion. Ladies, please disinfect first, then put on the disposable shoe covers and gloves.”
Yan Ningxi took the items from staff and said to the frowning girl, “Since we’re here, might as well enjoy it. Focus on what’s right in front of us.”
“My eyes and ears are full of chaos and noise.”
The girl’s mutter made Yan Ningxi chuckle inwardly. “By that logic, this big live person hovering around you is part of the chaos too?”
“No, you’re not. I…” The girl tried to explain but trailed off.
“I know.” Yan Ningxi finished for her. “Watching the movie made you happy, and me too. Try bringing that relaxed vibe here. Ignore the people around, tune out the sounds—treat them like movie extras and soundtrack, essential but background. Give it five minutes. If you really can’t handle it and feel bad, we’ll leave.”
“Mm.” The girl closed her eyes, took deep breaths to adjust, recalling their carefree morning together. Opening them, her gaze fixed on one person.
She spotted the same curve at Yan Ningxi’s eyes and lips.
Warmed by a rising sun in a frozen world, the girl perked up, remembering a line.
The scenery wasn’t the beauty; it was the person sharing it.
Later, the woman snapped dozens of photos of the girl with various fluffy critters: poking a chubby guinea pig with her finger while squatting, pouting for bunny kisses, or frozen like a perch for parrots—pure and playful as a child.
Later, the girl’s phone got their first joint photo, courtesy of staff.
The Alpaca Pavilion worker suggested the couple shot; both happily obliged.
“Ladies, scoot closer. Yes, lean toward each other a bit more. 3, 2, 1—smile! OK, perfect.”
“Thanks.”
Ming You took back her phone and admired the giggle-worthy photo alone.
“What’re you laughing at?” Yan Ningxi sidled up, curious what about the shot had the girl shaking with silly laughter.
“Nothing.”
Ming You pocketed the phone fast, linked arms with Yan Ningxi, and headed out. “Cute Pet Pavilion checked off—today’s fun doubled.”
“Happy is good.” The photo? She’d see it eventually.
This day was worth it.
The stuffiness weighing on Yan Ningxi’s heart vanished, feeling even better than after yesterday’s cry. She knew it wasn’t the cute animals healing her—it was the girl who spoiled her so sweetly.
…
Outside the pavilion, Ming You’s throat was parched. She pointed across. “Wanna sit at that drink shop?”
Yan Ningxi nodded. “Sure.” Her feet were getting tired.
She wore an autumn French lantern-sleeve half-high-neck knit dress in milky white, similar to Ming You’s original little suit color.
Black mid-calf heeled boots kept her from losing the height edge next to Ming You.
Yan Ningxi followed Ming You’s arm on hers to her changed outfit. Olive green paired fine with milky white.
They ordered inside and sat scrolling phones.
【Ms. Yang: I knew I picked right. Yu Yu, tell Mom if you need anything—shopping’s my specialty.】
【Ms. Yang: Saw your recent comp online. Mom’s so proud—my girl’s the best! [Clap] [Clap] [Clap]】
Ming You read but didn’t reply.
But Yan Ningxi ignoring her message? Big problem.
【Qi Xuexin: Yan Huahua, what’re you two up to?】
【Qi Xuexin: Where are you?】
【Qi Xuexin: Aren’t you going to coax me.gif】
【Qi Xuexin: You don’t love me anymore.gif】
【Qi Xuexin: I’m sulking.gif】
【Qi Xuexin: If you don’t reply, I’m calling the cops.gif】
【Qi Xuexin: Be a decent human, okay.gif】
Ming You took the food back to her seat and inserted the straw for Yan Ningxi. “You’ve been staring at that one screen for so long. What’s up?”
Yan Ningxi handed her the phone. “See for yourself.”
Ming You skimmed through it. Qi Xuexin sure was an emoji spammer. “How about you send me Teacher Qi’s contact? I’ll coax her.”
“Sure.” Yan Ningxi agreed and let Ming You handle it. “Sent it.”
“…”
Contact received, Ming You tapped “Add to Contacts” and typed in the friend request box: 【Hello! Beautiful teacher sister~】
The other side approved almost instantly, and the message popped up right away: 【What’s so good about hello! You two went on a date behind my back, huh?】
