Chapter 17

Yue Bai’s heart skipped a beat. Her arms instinctively loosened around Sang Wan, and her body swayed slightly. Quick as a flash, Sang Wan pressed a hand over Yue Bai’s to steady her, then released it to grip the handlebars again.

“Didn’t I tell you? Don’t squirm around—you’ll really fall,” Sang Wan said, her words laced with amusement. Her glasses hid some of her true feelings as she eased off the throttle a bit.

“Sorry, Senior Sister,” Yue Bai apologized hurriedly, her lips twitching as if she wanted to say more, but the words died unspoken.

Sang Wan tapped the handlebars lightly with her left hand but didn’t respond.

She pulled over in a quieter spot. “We’ve still got time, right?”

Yue Bai glanced at the time—plenty to spare. “Yeah, thanks, Senior Sister.”

Sang Wan curved her lips in a soft smile and turned the bike around, heading in another direction.

After classes ended that day, Yue Bai showed up at Sang Wan’s dorm to paint, just like the day before. But this time, she’d set an alarm beforehand.

When the ten-thirty chime rang out that evening, Sang Wan’s gaze darkened slightly. She adjusted her glasses with two fingers, stealing a longer look at the vibrating phone.

Yue Bai’s screen went dark in a hurry. Reluctantly, she saved her painting, stood up, and said, “Senior Sister, it’s getting late. I should head back.”

Sang Wan chuckled lightly. “Be safe.”

Once Yue Bai had left, Sang Wan rose to her feet. Her slender fingers pressed the power button on her laptop, bringing the shut-down machine back to life. She opened a folder and dragged out a document.

The glow from the screen reflected off her glasses, illuminating pages of dense text that could make anyone’s head spin. Sang Wan frowned slightly, then dragged a form from the bottom of the document into her chat with Yue Bai.

“Student Union Recruitment Form.”

“Interested in joining the School Student Union?” —Sang Wan.

No immediate reply. Sang Wan figured Yue Bai hadn’t reached her dorm yet. She leaned back, opened her closet, and let her gaze flick past the black sleepshirt from the night before. Instead, she grabbed her usual one.

By the time Sang Wan finished her shower, Yue Bai’s messages had come through.

“Senior Sister, I’m back at my dorm.” —Yue Bai.

“I’m not really interested in the Student Union.” —Yue Bai.

Sang Wan stared at the two lines, her fingers flying across the keyboard.

“Got it. Get some rest.” —Sang Wan.

She picked up her glass and downed the warm water inside. It was about what she’d expected—no surprise there.

Still, if Yue Bai joined the Student Union, they might get more time together.

Sang Wan’s fingertip traced the rim of the glass. Suddenly, she snapped out of it, realizing how much attention she was paying to Yue Bai.

Over the next few days, Yue Bai came to Sang Wan’s dorm whenever she had free time, always leaving promptly at ten-thirty each night.

That Friday afternoon, with no classes, Sang Wan handed Yue Bai her keycard. “Go ahead and get started without me.”

“Senior Sister, it feels weird painting alone if you’re not here,” Yue Bai protested.

Sang Wan glanced down at the pale blue card in her palm and adjusted her glasses nonchalantly. “It’s fine. I’ve got a class soon.”

“But…” Yue Bai started to object.

“There’s nothing valuable in my dorm anyway,” Sang Wan teased, reading her concern.

“Well… okay then.” Yue Bai couldn’t help smiling shyly, a far cry from the girl who’d sassed Fang Zhou the other day.

Yue Bai swiped the thin keycard to enter Sang Wan’s dorm. She settled uneasily into the chair at first, but soon felt an unexpected ease. Without Sang Wan there, she could focus entirely on her painting—no distractions from a casual gesture or glance.

When Sang Wan returned, she found Yue Bai utterly absorbed in the colors on the screen, so deep in concentration that she didn’t even hear the door open.

Sang Wan held her breath and crept closer to Yue Bai’s side, watching the girl lost in her own world.

Suddenly, a melodic ringtone filled the air. Yue Bai jolted, her pupils dilating as she turned her head cautiously.

Sang Wan cursed inwardly and silenced the suddenly blaring phone with the volume button.

“Senior Sister.” Yue Bai noticed her and glanced downward, realizing class must be over. She let out a breath and collected herself. “I can finish this painting over the weekend.”

Sang Wan nodded. “You’ve worked hard.”

The phone kept vibrating insistently, Sang Wan’s temple throbbing. With good humor, she ruffled Yue Bai’s hair. “Keep painting. I’ll take this call outside.”

She stepped out to the balcony, slid the glass door shut, and eyed the caller ID. Back turned to Yue Bai, she answered impatiently.

A faint breath came through the line.

“Little Wan, it’s Dad,” the voice on the other end said.

“What is it?” Sang Wan’s tone was flat and irritated, laced with her usual detachment.

He clearly caught the undercurrent in her voice. After a long pause, he said, “I miss you. Can you come home tomorrow?”

“You miss me?” Sang Wan scoffed. “Sorry, but if it’s about making me accept that woman you brought home and her kid, that’s not happening.”

“Since you’ve already welcomed her into the house, do my feelings even matter anymore?” Sang Wan leaned on the balcony railing, sarcasm dripping from her words. The white tiles radiated a faint chill.

Long silence from the other end. Sang Wan lost all interest in continuing. “If that’s all, I’m hanging up.”

“Wait, Little Wan,” Sang Dad called out hastily.

Sang Wan held the phone away from her ear, her expression impassive as she waited. “Take care of yourself.”

She froze, then curled her lips in deeper mockery. “You too… Dad.” She hung up.

Sang Wan rested her elbows on the balcony and peered through the glass at Yue Bai sitting straight-backed inside. In that instant, a spark ignited in her desolate heart.

The girl’s vibrant energy captivated her. Sang Wan gazed down at the back of her own hand, her eyes distant. After a moment, she murmured to herself, “Yue Bai, stick around with Senior Sister a bit more.”

Composing herself, Sang Wan slid the door open. She took a deep breath and gently stopped Yue Bai’s moving hand. “Enough painting. Come stroll with me.”

Yue Bai looked up, her gaze lingering on the faint furrow in Sang Wan’s brow. For some reason, she felt that familiar aura of isolation around Sang Wan again—the same as after the Freshman Welcome Party, when she’d sat alone on the bench by the Artificial Lake.

It stirred pity in her heart.

“Okay.” Yue Bai didn’t pull away from Sang Wan’s hand. With her free one, she saved the file and shut down the computer.

Friday night on campus buzzed with energy, especially around the Artificial Lake where students had set up impromptu stalls. An array of quirky trinkets lay neatly arranged on blankets for browsing students to peruse.

Though Yue Bai had heard about these bazaars before college, this was her first time seeing one up close.

“Senior Sister, is that a ring toss game over there?” Yue Bai whispered, eyeing the hoops in a senior guy’s hand.

Sang Wan followed her gaze and murmured a soft “Mm-hmm.”

The guy with the hoops hawked energetically to passersby.

Yue Bai itched to try. Amused, Sang Wan scanned a code, paid, and got ten hoops.

“Want to give it a shot?” She handed five to Yue Bai.

Yue Bai took them sheepishly. “You’re spoiling me again, Senior Sister.”

Sang Wan just smiled faintly. She tossed first—a flimsy plastic hoop that arced low through the air, hit the ground, and rolled a couple more feet before stopping.

Miss.

Undeterred, Sang Wan kept going. Five hoops later, not a single hit.

Sang Wan: “…”

Yue Bai caught the flicker of childish frustration on Sang Wan’s face and giggled. She hooked her pinky around Sang Wan’s and swung it playfully. “Senior Sister, want that one? I’ll win it for you.”

Their pinkies linked, Sang Wan’s attention zeroed in on the connection. She stole a subtle glance and softened as she looked at the girl beside her.

Yue Bai noticed too. She glanced down in surprise at their intertwined fingers, then yanked hers back as if shocked. To cover the awkwardness, she asked, “Have you picked one out, Senior Sister?”

Sang Wan’s amusement deepened. She loved this blend of shyness and liveliness in Yue Bai—it brought her endless delight.

“I want the little white rabbit in the middle. Can you get it?” Sang Wan pointed to the plushie at the center.

“Senior Sister likes that one?” Yue Bai blinked in surprise, then nodded—it did suit her soft vibe. “Sure, I’ll get it for you right now.”

“Mm.” Sang Wan nodded with a smile.

That little white rabbit… looks just like you.

Hoop after hoop sailed and fell. Five in a row, all misses.

Yue Bai: “…”

“Little Sister, where’s my little white rabbit?” Sang Wan held out her hand, fighting a laugh, her expression innocently expectant.

Yue Bai: “…”

“Senior Sister, hold on.” She fished out her phone, pretending to scan for more hoops.

“Hey, kidding.” Sang Wan tugged her along. “Let’s go.”

“But I want to get it for you,” Yue Bai mumbled, pouting. It was the first time Senior Sister had voiced a want in front of her, and she’d boasted confidently. Failing now felt like a slap in the face.

“There’ll be other chances,” Sang Wan soothed.

“Hey, classmate.” A guy strode up. “You after that Little White Rabbit Plushie? I saw all five hoops aimed at it.”

“Yeah,” Yue Bai nodded, puzzled.

Sang Wan narrowed her eyes dangerously.

“It’s like this,” the young man said with a smile. “I’m one of the people running this booth. I can see you really want that Little White Rabbit, so how about I add you on WeChat and just give it to you directly? Sound good?”

Yue Bai’s eyebrow arched as she roughly grasped the young man’s intention. She had been about to refuse outright, but the thought of her promise to Sang Wan—to get the Little White Rabbit for her—made the words stick in her throat.

“Um…” Yue Bai hesitated.

“What year are you in, classmate?” The young man pressed on, sensing an opening.

“My first year,” Yue Bai replied.

“Oh, a freshman girl! Haha.” The young man’s face lit up with delight. He opened WeChat. “Let me scan your code, junior.”

The faint smile at the corners of Sang Wan’s mouth gradually faded, her lips pressing into a straight line.