Chapter 41 Part 1

“Senior Sister, let me help you.” Yue Bai followed her into the kitchen. The lingering disappointment on her face drew several extra glances from Sang Wan.

Had something happened to her while she was out?

“The kitchen gets really smoky. You should just sit in the living room.” Sang Wan tried to shoo her away.

“It’s fine. I’ll just assist a little.” A sheen of moisture glistened in Yue Bai’s eyes. She stubbornly shook off Sang Wan’s hand, the heaviness in her chest growing stronger.

Sang Wan’s brows furrowed slightly as she sensed the girl’s emotional shift. She didn’t press the issue and instead handed Yue Bai a bunch of unwashed vegetables. “Can you wash these for me?”

“Okay.” Yue Bai’s lips curved upward. As their hands brushed during the exchange, Yue Bai deliberately hooked Sang Wan’s pinky finger. Her watery gaze lingered on the other woman’s exquisite features.

Sang Wan froze for a split second when their fingers touched. Her usual playful tricks, the ones she pulled on Yue Bai, were now being turned back on her. A faint, intriguing sensation bubbled up inside.

It was as if Sang Wan suddenly understood something. With a soft smile, she stepped aside. Yue Bai took the cleared path to the sink and got to work with enthusiasm.

The range hood hummed to life, its mechanical whir filling the kitchen.

“Senior Sister, you didn’t date anyone before me… right?” Water poured steadily from the faucet, soaking Yue Bai’s sleeves. As she lifted her wrist, the loose fabric of her shirt slipped downward.

“Mm.” Sang Wan’s stir-frying paused for a beat, but she resumed without missing a step, her expression unchanged.

“That’s good.” Yue Bai murmured under her breath, relief washing over her. A bright smile bloomed on her face once more.

Sang Wan tilted her head, eyeing the girl whose mood had flipped so quickly. She couldn’t suppress a low chuckle. “What’s gotten into you?”

Yue Bai pressed her lips together. She’d never been good at hiding her feelings around Sang Wan. She shook the freshly washed vegetables, sending droplets flying.

She set them down on the cutting board. “Senior Sister, they’re all washed.”

“Mm, that’s fine right there.” Sang Wan scooped the dish out of the pan. “Take this to the living room.”

“Okay, Senior Sister.” Yue Bai cradled the plate in both hands and headed out.

Inside the master bedroom, Zhou Qingyan shut the door and wrapped her arms around Wen Mo from behind. She nuzzled into the crook of her neck, eyes fluttering shut in contentment. “What’s wrong?”

Wen Mo let her carry on with the playful antics. A spark of amusement lit her cool eyes. She turned and pulled the other woman into an embrace, her voice light. “Looks like Sang Wan really does like Little Bai.”

“We just don’t know when Little Bai will figure it out.” Wen Mo tilted her head back, her neck dotted with a flurry of kisses. She narrowed her eyes and nudged Zhou Qingyan away slightly.

Zhou Qingyan licked her lips, still wanting more. Her fingertip brushed Wen Mo’s lip corner. “Little Bai likes Sang Wan too, I think. I asked her today—she admitted she has feelings for her, but she hasn’t sorted them out yet.”

Wen Mo perched on the edge of the bed and gently pried away Zhou Qingyan’s increasingly wandering hand. She tilted her head in warning, nodding toward the door to signal people outside.

“They’re leaving this weekend.” Zhou Qingyan released her grip. “I don’t have class Monday morning.”

Wen Mo shot her a sidelong glance, her tone softening despite herself. “Feeling needy?”

“It’s been a whole week. It’s starting to get uncomfortable.” Zhou Qingyan pouted pitifully and brushed a featherlight kiss across Wen Mo’s lips before pulling back.

“Be good. I’ll take care of you Saturday night.” Wen Mo caressed her lips tenderly.

Figuring dinner was nearly ready, Wen Mo and Zhou Qingyan joined hands and returned to the living room.

Sang Wan was finishing the last dish while Yue Bai lent a hand nearby.

“Sang Wan wants Little Bai to confess to her first,” Wen Mo said, taking a small sip from a disposable paper cup.

“What?” Zhou Qingyan stared at her in disbelief. “What’s she thinking, making Little Bai go first?”

Wen Mo nodded at her with a helpless expression.

Zhou Qingyan trailed off. “…Impressive. No wonder they’re not together yet. With Sang Wan’s charm, who couldn’t she win over?”

Wen Mo cast a chilly glance her way, her smile faintly mocking. “Oh, really?”

A chill ran down Zhou Qingyan’s spine. She quickly fawned over her. “In my heart, you’re always the best.”

“Senior Sister Zhou…” Yue Bai approached with the final dish, catching the tail end of Zhou Qingyan’s words. She set it down awkwardly.

“What?” Zhou Qingyan leaned casually against Wen Mo. “My Mo Mo is the best, period.”

Can you two say that in private? Yue Bai screamed inwardly.

Sang Wan emerged from the kitchen and blinked in confusion at the group staring each other down. Without a word, she set the pot of rice down on the table.

“Little Bai, let’s eat.” Sang Wan ladled out a bowl of rice for Yue Bai, then one for Wen Mo. Finally, under Zhou Qingyan’s pleading stare, she served her too.

“Whine whine whine, Senior Sister Sang is the best,” Zhou Qingyan said in an exaggerated baby voice.

“Shut up and eat.” Wen Mo flicked her gaze upward.

“Oh.”

Yue Bai stifled a laugh at Zhou Qingyan’s comeuppance. As she looked up, her eyes locked with Sang Wan’s across the room. After two seconds of silent staring, Sang Wan dropped her gaze and picked up a chopstick of vegetables for her. “Eat up.”

That weekend afternoon, Yue Bai packed her clothes and said goodbye to Zhou Qingyan in the living room before heading out.

“Aren’t you waiting for Senior Sister Sang? She and Wen Mo are handling Student Council business. They’ll be back any minute.” Zhou Qingyan lounged with her legs crossed, fiddling with her phone. She glanced at Yue Bai from the corner of her eye.

“I have evening study hall tonight.” Yue Bai pressed her lips together. “I already texted Senior Sister Sang.”

“Fair enough. Be safe on the road—Senior Sister won’t walk you out.” Zhou Qingyan grinned.

“Mm, goodbye, Senior Sister.” Yue Bai closed the door politely behind her.

“Goodbye.”

Back in the dorm, Yue Bai let out a deep breath. She clutched her dried underwear, staring at it over and over. Unbidden, images of Senior Sister washing her clothes flooded her mind.

“Little Bai, what are you doing? You’ve been staring at those undies for minutes.” Xu Nuo dangled from the edge of her bed. She’d noticed it the moment Yue Bai got back.

“Oh, right—there’s a letter on your desk.” Xu Nuo hopped down. “It’s from that girl who stepped on your foot the other day. She stopped by when you weren’t here and asked us to pass along her apology.”

Xu Nuo scratched her head. “She must’ve been spooked by that forum post. But when I checked this morning, it was gone. No idea why.”

“Whatever, it’s deleted.” Yue Bai picked up the envelope without much interest. Inside was a full page of closely written text—just an apology for the foot-stomping incident.

Yue Bai brushed it off. She’d watched the video; it had been deliberate, and it hurt. Coming clean a week later? Probably just scared by the post.

She gathered her things for evening study hall.

“Where are Chen Han and Zhao Yu?” Yue Bai asked, hugging her tablet.

“They’re already in the classroom.” Xu Nuo snatched a book and hurried out after her.

November had arrived, and even the freshmen were hitting their stride, homework piling up. Yue Bai kept her assignments flawless while honing her drawing skills.

Her lines flowed smoothly with confident power. She outlined and colored diligently, and a figure gradually took shape on the tablet.

It was a chibi-style character portrait.

Delighted, Yue Bai snapped a screenshot and shared it with Sang Wan.

“Senior Sister, check out this little doodle I drew. Isn’t it adorable?” —Yue Bai.

The reply came quickly.

“Super cute. Is that supposed to be me?” —Sang Wan.

Yue Bai froze, her finger hovering over the screen as her eyes drifted to it.

Chibi styles were always exaggerated, but anyone could tell at a glance that it was Sang Wan.

“Do you like it, Senior Sister?” Yue Bai sidestepped.

“I love it. Can I use it as my profile pic?” —Sang Wan.

Yue Bai swallowed hard. “Of course.”

Moments later, Sang Wan’s WeChat avatar switched to the chibi portrait.

Yue Bai’s heart tickled with delight. Her pen danced across the screen, and soon she’d finished another one.

“Whoa, Little Bai, is this chibi you?” Xu Nuo spotted it right away and leaned in close. “It’s adorable—like it came straight out of the same mold.”

Yue Bai smiled and transferred the image to her phone. She hesitated before her thumb hovered over the WeChat settings.

Would switching it cause a misunderstanding?

After a moment’s indecision, she gritted her teeth. It was her drawing, after all—she could use it if she wanted. With a quick tap, she changed her avatar.

A message pinged almost immediately.

“This profile pic looks just like you.” —Sang Wan.

“I based it on myself, hehe.” —Yue Bai, followed by a cheeky grinning emoji.

“Couple profile pics?” —Sang Wan.

Yue Bai’s heart stuttered to a halt, then thundered wildly. A flush crept up her ears.

She clapped a hand over her warming ear as a thrilling sense of her secret being uncovered washed over her.

“Nice. Now everyone will know we’re more than just friends.” —Sang Wan, capped with a smug emoji.

More than just friends. Those five short words set off fireworks in Yue Bai’s chest.

Senior Sister… Her heartbeat quickened. She pressed her tongue to the roof of her mouth and typed back: “Mm-hmm.”

Across town, Sang Wan cradled her phone, her eyes flicking between their matching avatars. A satisfied smile curved her lips.

“Little Wan, you seem extra happy today.” Li Ci sat beside her, sorting through manuscripts. As he looked up to stretch his neck, he caught the gentle smile on her face and paused, momentarily dazed.

Li Ci had known Sang Wan since their freshman year. After more than a year together in the Student Council, he was quite familiar with her temperament. The smile she’d shown earlier was nothing like her usual polite one when dealing with people—it was clearly a heartfelt burst of joy.

Li Ci’s gaze drifted to the screen of Sang Wan’s phone. Sure enough, she was chatting with someone.

What could someone have said to make her this happy?

Sang Wan turned off her phone and cleared the files from her desk. “Wen Mo will need those materials you’re holding tomorrow,” she reminded him. Then she added, “It’s better if you call me Sang Wan. Our relationship isn’t close enough for nicknames like that.”

“Hey, no… S-Sang Wan.” Caught in Sang Wan’s warning stare, Li Ci corrected himself. “Did I do something to offend you? What’s going on today? You’ve never minded before.”

“That was then.” Sang Wan’s finger tapped lightly on the wooden desktop. “Just use my name from now on. We don’t want any misunderstandings.”

She rose to her feet, cutting off Li Ci before he could respond. “I’m checking attendance with the Student Council today.”

With that, she left the Student Council Office.

She missed Little Bai.

Yue Bai sat in the tiered classroom, working to steady her emotions. To keep anyone from noticing anything off, she kept her head down and pulled up an anime on her tablet.

“Sorry to interrupt—the Student Council is checking attendance.” Sang Wan knocked on the doorframe. Her warm, familiar voice made Yue Bai’s head snap up.

Their eyes met, and Sang Wan smiled faintly. “Could the Academic Commissioner come up here, please?”

Yue Bai hesitated for a second. Normally, when the Student Council checked attendance, a class representative would go up to verify headcounts.

In two quick strides, Yue Bai mounted the podium.