After Zhou Jingze came out of the board game room, he returned home. After showering, he lay on the bed with a weary expression. 1017 was stomping around on his chest, then grabbed the collar tucked around his waist and pulled hard outward. With a “snap,” the silver bathrobe fell half-open, revealing his firm V-line extending downward, his well-defined muscles still glistening with water droplets.

Wild yet exuding desire.

“Tsk,” Zhou Jingze’s eyelids drooped halfway as he lifted 1017 by the scruff of its neck and brought it close to his face. The fat orange cat immediately cowered and didn’t dare move.

“If only you were half as well-behaved as your mother,” Zhou Jingze examined it.

As soon as the words left his mouth, Zhou Jingze himself was stunned for a second, then realized he hadn’t contacted Xu Sui yet. He set the cat aside and scrolled to the first starred contact in his phone book and dialed.

The mechanical dial tone came from the other end. Zhou Jingze glanced at the time on his phone—23:30. At this hour, with Xu Sui’s consistently good sleep schedule, she should be asleep.

Zhou Jingze didn’t suspect anything and hung up, then continued sleeping. The next day when he woke up, he sent Xu Sui a message: [Are you awake?]

No reply.

At 12 noon, Zhou Jingze finished training and was eating in the cafeteria with a group of people, wearing gray-green military training clothes. The young master silently slammed his tray down on the table with a “clang.”

Da Liu was biting into a steamed bun when this commotion startled him: “Yo, who made our Master Zhou unhappy?”

Qin Jing wore the expression of someone who’d been through it all, grinning mischievously: “Don’t tell me your girlfriend is ignoring you.”

Everyone looked over and saw Zhou Jingze sitting unmoved, methodically sipping his soup, but whether his mood was good or bad, these brothers could still sense it.

“Boss Zhou, you have days like this too.”

While the group was chatting, a distinctive shout drew the attention of passersby, and they looked over too.

“Uncle, Er Ha, Big Liu!” Hu Qianxi waved excitedly at them with a beaming face.

Immediately, Da Liu pointed to a seat beside them and said, “Sister, come over, we saved you a spot.”

Sheng Nanzhou had always resented the nickname “Er Ha” because he looked nothing like a husky, but after Hu Qianxi kept calling him that, he got used to it.

He seriously suspected Hu Qianxi was a master of psychological manipulation.

Sheng Nanzhou didn’t refute her and took out his meal card: “Order whatever you want.”

“Holy crap, is Young Master Sheng’s stingy persona about to collapse?”

“Exactly, do we even qualify to swipe your meal card?”

Hu Qianxi paid no attention to these jokes. She shook her head: “Although your school cafeteria’s food is famously delicious, please don’t tempt me. I finally had some success losing weight this summer.”

Sheng Nanzhou pressed his lips together, put the meal card back in his pocket without saying a word, and handed her a USB drive.

Zhou Jingze took a sip of ice water, kicked Hu Qianxi’s toes, and asked: “What brings you here?”

“I came to borrow something from him,” Hu Qianxi waved the item in her hand at him, then stood up, “I’ll be going now, Uncle.”

Zhou Jingze held the spoon between his fingers, stirred the soup in his bowl, and suddenly called out to Hu Qianxi: “Wait.”

At the cafeteria convenience store, crowded with people, Zhou Jingze carried a bag of items, scanned the QR code to pay, then handed it to Hu Qianxi: “Give this to her.”

It took Hu Qianxi three seconds to process that the “her” her uncle mentioned was Xu Sui. Zhou Jingze was really something—when the two were having a quarrel, he could just deliver this and naturally make up, right?

“Alright, Uncle, then you owe me a meal.”

“Mm.”

He seemed to remember something else, picked up his phone to send a message, then looked up: “When you leave campus later, go to Yunyuan Noodle Shop and get her a takeout order of crab roe noodles. I’ve already spoken to the owner.”

“She doesn’t eat scallions or cilantro, and she might like it if you add more vinegar.” Zhou Jingze added.

Hu Qianxi had been responding with “mm-hmm” to everything he said, but when she heard this sentence, her eyes widened in realization, and her tone became instantly excited: “Uncle, what are you talking about? Sui Sui loves eating scallions and cilantro, and she doesn’t like vinegar at all—too much gives her stomachaches.”

“I’m begging you, could you please put some heart into this relationship? Last night I even secretly heard her crying in the bathroom. If you don’t want to take it seriously, just let her go…”

Zhou Jingze stood frozen in place. She likes scallions and cilantro, doesn’t like vinegar? Then before, it was—

He squinted, trying hard to recall, and suddenly understood everything. Hu Qianxi was still chattering on about “I won’t help you deliver this,” but by the time she paused to catch her breath and wanted to say more, he was already gone.

Sheng Nanzhou, who had witnessed the entire scene while standing next to Hu Qianxi, sighed meaningfully: “He’s fallen hard.”

“What?” Hu Qianxi didn’t quite catch it.

“Nothing,” Sheng Nanzhou took the items from her hands and tilted his chin up, “Let’s go, I’ll walk you out.”

The two walked out of the cafeteria side by side. Instead of the expected stifling heat, a cool breeze blew through the corridor. Hu Qianxi instinctively pressed down on her skirt hem as it fluttered in the wind.

Dark clouds pressed down from the sky above, accompanied by a muffled rumble of thunder. Sheng Nanzhou glanced at the trees swaying in the wind and said: “It’s going to rain. I’ll go borrow an umbrella.”

“Hey, no need. Fortunately, this young lady brought a sun umbrella,” Hu Qianxi instinctively grabbed his wrist and pulled a sun umbrella from her bag.

Sheng Nanzhou stared at this mini umbrella decorated with little red flowers, his mouth twitching slightly: “Alright.”

Whatever makes you happy.

As soon as the two descended the steps and walked straight toward the tennis court before turning left, when they reached the school gate, Sheng Nanzhou glanced at the nearby restaurants, stared at Hu Qianxi’s newly sharpened chin, and remained silent for a long moment:

“Are you hungry? You choose, my treat.”

Hu Qianxi shook her head: “I finally managed to lose four pounds.”

She had been eating only boiled vegetables and whole grain protein for many consecutive days. Just this morning, for example, she only ate one egg. Now she was so hungry that her entire body felt weak and her steps were unsteady. She hoped the journey would be shorter so she could return to the dorm to eat boiled broccoli.

Sheng Nanzhou stared at her, his handsome brows furrowing as he spoke with cold detachment: “Do you think that just because you’ve gotten thinner, Lu Wenbai will spare you an extra glance?”

Many things—you already know the answer deep down, but you just want to cover your ears and give it a try.

Hu Qianxi didn’t like this cruel side of Sheng Nanzhou at all.

She could only argue back fiercely: “Of course he will! I’ve lost weight and become more beautiful—”

A gust of wind blew, lifting the fallen leaves from the ground. The leaves on the tall trees by the roadside rustled loudly, and a flower petal swayed precariously before falling onto Hu Qianxi’s head.

Sheng Nanzhou stepped forward, the distance between them uncontrollably closing. Hu Qianxi’s voice stopped abruptly as she looked up at him. The young master picked the petal from her head, restraining his usual frivolous expression, his tone half-serious:

“Xixi, you don’t need to change into anything, because you’re already beautiful just as you are.”

…

When Hu Qianxi returned to school, she was thinking about how Sheng Nanzhou had changed. The same Sheng Nanzhou known for his sharp tongue and who took pleasure in putting her down had actually called her beautiful?

Lost in thought, she suddenly felt dizzy and uncontrollably fell to one side. Before losing consciousness, an anxious female voice reached her: “Are you alright, classmate?”

—

On his way to find Xu Sui, Zhou Jingze’s mind flashed with scenes like movie clips.

He never ate scallions or cilantro, despising anything with a pungent taste. That day in the cafeteria when Xu Sui treated him to a meal, she said “one serving without scallions or cilantro”—it turned out she was ordering for him.

He didn’t eat scallions or cilantro.

Zhou Jingze had casually assumed at the time that she didn’t like them either, which is why he never saw Xu Sui eat those two things during their subsequent dates.

It wasn’t that she didn’t like them—she had always been accommodating him.

When he came out of that house with injuries all over his face, he was full of hostility and extremely irritated. When he returned to school and ran into Xu Sui, she handed him a pink bandaid.

He needed someone to accompany him to distract his attention, so he casually asked Xu Sui if she had eaten, and if not, to accompany him for a meal.

Xu Sui had said she hadn’t eaten, and when eating noodles, she added a lot of vinegar.

Now it seemed she had lied. She had already eaten dinner on her side, but to help Zhou Jingze feel better, she ate another meal with him.

She seemed to eat with great appetite, but actually the vinegar was just to help her already full stomach accommodate more food.

If he hadn’t encountered Xu Sui that day, Zhou Jingze would have run into some other girl and asked for company.

His entry into Xu Sui’s life was like a sudden violent storm—unintentional but fierce.

Yet she was careful and cautious, treating it like a precious treasure.

Xu Sui studied in the library until very late. First, she didn’t want to deal with the lunch rush at the cafeteria, and second, with the competition approaching, she wanted to spend more time reviewing.

A breeze carrying moisture blew in through the window. Xu Sui glanced at the time—it was already 1:30. She hurriedly packed up her textbooks and went downstairs.

While walking down the slope, she unexpectedly spotted Wei Yu from afar. He was wearing a white letter T-shirt and athletic pants, holding a triangular gold-labeled basketball in his arms, his whole being radiating youthful sunshine.

“Hey, Senior Xu!” Wei Yu’s face lit up with surprise.

“What a coincidence.” Xu Sui smiled and greeted him.

After greeting him, she was about to pass by Wei Yu, but he called out to her: “Senior, I have something I want to ask you. Could we talk privately for a moment?”

Behind the academic building, the lush oak trees cast shadows that cut their standing position into umbrella-shaped patches. Wei Yu tugged at his collar and fanned himself, asking:

“Senior, I want to ask you—why do you reply when I ask you study questions on WeChat, but ignore me when I send personal messages?”

Xu Sui had encountered various types of suitors, both obvious and subtle, but none as direct and bold as Wei Yu. After thinking for a moment, she answered honestly: “Because I see you as a junior, and we might be colleagues in the future.”

Wei Yu smiled bitterly. He didn’t want to give up and was about to speak when Xu Sui’s phone rang urgently from her pocket. She took it out and looked at it but didn’t move.

Wei Yu glanced over and saw the caller ID “zjz”—what a strange contact name. He looked at Xu Sui and asked: “Should you answer the call first?”

Xu Sui shook her head and pressed the red decline button, her tone indifferent: “It’s not anyone particularly important.”

“What did you want to say?”

“Senior, I like you. I know this sounds presumptuous. That time at Senior Guan’s psychology research institute, when you came in you were in a hurry and accidentally bumped into an intern’s documents. You immediately apologized and helped her pick everything up. After the consultation ended, you left, and I thought that was the end of it. But then you came back, carrying a small succulent plant to give to her, hoping her career would go smoothly.”

“So I fell in love with you at first sight, although—” Wei Yu placed his hand on her shoulder.

Just as Xu Sui was about to stop him from continuing, a cold and impatient voice came: “Although what?”

Both turned to look. Zhou Jingze stood not far away, wearing gray-green military training clothes, one hand in his pocket. The muscle lines on his arms were smooth and taut. He had a cigarette in his mouth and was walking over with a cold expression, emanating an aura of “try to steal from me and you’re dead.”

His expression was grim as he laughed mockingly: “Although she has a boyfriend, but you don’t mind being a homewrecker?”

Zhou Jingze was almost amused by this person’s shamelessness. He grabbed Wei Yu’s hand that was resting on Xu Sui’s shoulder with one hand and twisted it backward with a “crack.” Wei Yu screamed in pain as Zhou Jingze continued his previous statement: “But I mind.”

His tone was domineering and arrogant as he repeated slowly, applying more force with each word, making Wei Yu break out in cold sweats from the pain.

“Because she can only belong to me alone.”

Wei Yu begged for mercy from the pain. Zhou Jingze suddenly released his grip, pulled a cigarette from his pack, twirled the cigarette butt between his fingers, his tone unfriendly: “Get lost.”

Wei Yu’s features contorted in pain as he fled hastily, not daring to even glance at Xu Sui. Zhou Jingze wanted him to remember this pain, to learn his lesson.

His woman—others weren’t even allowed to look.

After Wei Yu left, the atmosphere fell into silence. The rain finally began to fall, with a few raindrops hitting their faces painfully. Xu Sui, holding her books, didn’t even glance at Zhou Jingze before turning to leave.

But Zhou Jingze acted like a rogue, following her wherever she went. When Xu Sui moved left, Zhou Jingze grabbed her hand and pulled her toward him. Xu Sui fell into his embrace, her hands pressed against his chest.

Xu Sui’s eyelashes trembled, her bangs dampened by the rain: “Let go.”

“I won’t.” Zhou Jingze looked down at her.

“I bought your favorite pineapple buns, fresh from the oven, and the boxed milk you like. I’ll remember from now on that you like eating scallions and cilantro, and don’t like vinegar.” Zhou Jingze’s tone was gentle, like making a promise: “I’ll keep you in my heart.”

Xu Sui’s eyes gradually reddened. Still, wherever she went, Zhou Jingze stood before her like an impenetrable wall, making escape impossible.

Xu Sui began hitting him with her books. The books scattered to the ground with a clatter, mixing with the rainwater on the concrete, immediately becoming waterlogged. Without books, she began kicking Zhou Jingze.

She was wearing pointed-toe leather shoes today, which hurt when used for kicking. Zhou Jingze grunted but held her silently, enduring it. Xu Sui attacked him with both hands and feet while tears uncontrollably streamed down her face.

Large hands pressed against her waist as Xu Sui was pushed against the wall behind her. Zhou Jingze cupped her chin and licked away her tears bit by bit.

Their lips wanted to meet, absorb, intertwine, mixing with salty tears, his Adam’s apple rolling slowly as he swallowed.

After a moment of tenderness, Zhou Jingze lowered his neck, his nose tip intimately nuzzling her forehead. Xu Sui’s eyes were red, her hoarse breathing mixed with grievance: “You owe me for my books.”

“I’ll compensate you.”

“Also, I don’t like Japanese food at all, I’m allergic to mango, but I still like eating mango smoothies in summer.”

“I’ll write it in my notes.”