Chapter 11

A faint electric current climbed up from her fingertips, etching itself into Yue Bai’s mind before exploding with a bang.

“Senior Sister, look ahead,” Yue Bai said hastily, pulling her hand back and hiding it behind her.

Sang Wan’s lips curved into a wider smile. Suppressing her amusement, she gazed straight ahead. Under the dim lights, a couple was locked in a passionate kiss, heedless of their surroundings. Their shadows intertwined, stretched grotesquely long by the glow.

“Feeling like falling in love?” Sang Wan turned sideways, took Yue Bai’s arm, and led her away from the artificial lake by another path.

Yue Bai had only meant to change the subject and divert Sang Wan’s attention from her withdrawn hand. She hadn’t expected to point at a pair of lovebirds. Hanging her head glumly, she muttered, “No.”

“Then why make me look?” Sang Wan teased deliberately.

“I just…” Inspiration struck Yue Bai. “I was wondering—if Senior Sister were to date someone, would it be like that couple? Off in some unnoticed corner…”

“Hm?” Sang Wan hummed softly.

“Like those two just now, where no one’s watching…” Yue Bai’s words trailed off as Sang Wan cut her off.

“No.” Sang Wan’s voice carried a hint of hoarseness. “I won’t date anyone. And I certainly won’t do anything like what you’re imagining.”

Sang Wan’s smile froze on her face. She pressed her lips together, letting the topic die.

“What did you think of my performance tonight?” she asked, lowering her head and rubbing her knuckles with her thumb.

Yue Bai blinked in surprise. For some reason, when Sang Wan declared she wouldn’t date, Yue Bai had sensed a wave of loneliness and sorrow radiating from her.

But how could that be? Senior Sister Sang always seemed so cheerful and gentle. How could she harbor such heavy emotions?

“I really liked Senior Sister’s performance,” Yue Bai said bluntly, sharing her honest feelings without further critique.

Sang Wan paused, then let out a soft chuckle. “How are you so adorable?”

Beneath the lamplight, a faint blush colored Yue Bai’s cheeks. She didn’t know what to say.

Sang Wan’s dormitory building was in East District Dormitory Block 2. Yue Bai escorted her to the path just in front of it and glanced up at the structure.

“Senior Sister,” Yue Bai called out. “Get some early rest.”

Sang Wan dipped her head with a gentle smile. “You too. Watch out on your way back.”

“See you, Senior Sister,” Yue Bai said politely.

“See you.” Sang Wan remained rooted in place.

“Aren’t you going inside, Senior Sister?” Yue Bai asked, curious.

“I’ll watch until you’re safely back,” Sang Wan replied.

“Ah… All right, then.”

Yue Bai didn’t protest. She turned and headed toward her own dormitory building. She hadn’t gone far when the sound of light footsteps approached from behind. Instinctively, she glanced back—and before she could react, strong arms pulled her into a soft, warm embrace. Waves of fragrant warmth enveloped her.

Her body went rigid.

“Yue Bai, thank you for keeping me company,” Sang Wan murmured into her ear as she held her close. “I’ve been so happy these past thirty minutes with you.”

With that, she gently pushed Yue Bai away and flashed a sweet smile. “Good night. Sweet dreams.”

“G-good… night,” Yue Bai stammered, still dazed. By the time she gathered her wits, Sang Wan had already vanished from sight.

Yue Bai stared vacantly at her hands. The faint fragrance and lingering warmth still clung to her skin.

“Senior Sister…” Her eyes unfocused. Several breaths later, she finally shuffled away.

Back in her dorm, Xu Nuo and the others hadn’t returned yet. Yue Bai slid open her phone in confusion. Something about Sang Wan tonight felt off. Yue Bai didn’t know her well, but her instincts screamed that all was not right.

Had something gone wrong during rehearsal? Major events always had them to ensure everything ran smoothly. Li Ci had been the host, and the way he’d looked at Senior Sister Sang suggested he had feelings for her.

Maybe he’d said something to upset her.

Yue Bai agonized over it briefly before deciding to ask Zhou Qingyan. She opened WeChat and pulled up their chat.

“Senior Sister, did anything happen tonight?”

“It’s about Senior Sister Sang.”

She fired off the two messages and waited, steadying her breath.

At the top of the screen, “The other person is typing…” appeared—then disappeared. Moments later, it flickered back on, but still no reply came.

Had something really happened? Yue Bai’s heart jolted.

Roughly five minutes passed before a response arrived.

“Why do you ask?” Zhou Qingyan wrote.

“Senior Sister Sang was alone by the artificial lake tonight. She seemed so lonely,” Yue Bai replied.

“Did she talk to you?” Zhou Qingyan asked.

“I spent half an hour with Senior Sister Sang by the lake,” Yue Bai explained.

Zhou Qingyan fell silent again. Yue Bai bit her lip and waited, but no reply came. Shrugging it off, she headed for the shower.

When she emerged, her phone screen glowed with unread notifications.

Yue Bai tapped it open.

“Your Senior Sister Sang hasn’t been herself these past few days,” Zhou Qingyan had written. “If you can, spend more time with her.”

Yue Bai blinked at the message, puzzled. She typed out a response, deleted it several times, and finally settled on: “Okay, Senior Sister.”

The next morning, Yue Bai rose early. She had a class at eight.

She glanced at her still-sleeping roommates and called out a few half-hearted times. Once they mumbled back that they were awake, she headed to the cafeteria.

It wasn’t crowded at this hour—a few stragglers grabbing takeout to eat on the go. Yue Bai settled at a table with a plate holding two steamed buns and a bowl of porridge, chewing slowly and savoring each bite.

She ate contentedly, oblivious to the figure approaching her.

“Up so early?” Sang Wan slid into the seat across from her, breakfast tray in hand.

“Senior Sister,” Yue Bai said obediently, setting down her spoon. “I have class this morning.”

Sang Wan nodded and tore one of her buns in half, dropping a piece into her porridge. “You’re really dedicated to your studies.”

Yue Bai smiled shyly. “What class do you have this morning, Senior Sister?”

“No classes for me until later,” Sang Wan replied. “I’m heading to the library after this.”

“Oh.” Yue Bai fell quiet, sipping her porridge. She never had much to say while eating.

“Did I frighten you last night?” Sang Wan asked, cradling the rim of her bowl.

Yue Bai knew she meant the hug. “Of course not.”

“That’s good,” Sang Wan said with a faint smile.

A brief silence settled over the table.

“Senior Sister, I’ve got class—I’m heading out,” Yue Bai said after finishing and wiping her mouth.

Sang Wan didn’t look up, murmuring a soft “Mm.”

Once Yue Bai had gone, Sang Wan raised her head. She watched her return her tray, then exit the cafeteria.

Her appetite evaporated. She dumped her tray and left the cafeteria.

Her phone, set to silent, kept lighting up insistently. The chill in Sang Wan’s eyes deepened. She stared icily at the screen, where “Dad” flashed as the caller ID, and ended the call with a mocking swipe. But the phone rang again, relentlessly.

“What is it?” Gone was her usual warmth; her voice dripped with frost.

Silence stretched for several seconds on the other end. “Can you come home tomorrow? Dad…”

“Sorry, no time,” Sang Wan said curtly, hanging up.

A self-mocking smirk tugged at her lips. She tilted her head back, blinking away the thin veil of mist clouding her eyes.