◎Milk Tea Prince◎

As expected, Yuan Ye won first place. The moment he crossed the finish line, everyone from his class swarmed over, surrounding him in three layers inside and out with collective cheers.

Zhang Chenxi was both opening bottle caps and handing over towels:

“You okay, bro?”

Yuan Ye rubbed his wet bangs twice, focused only on catching his breath without saying a word, then took the mineral water bottle and tilted his head back for a gulp before pushing through the crowd.

“I’m going back to the stands.” He waved his hand with his back turned.

Zhang Chenxi caught up with this great contributor: “No problem, I saved you the best viewing spot.”

The shortest distance between two points is a straight line. He originally wanted to take a shortcut and escort him across the sports field to their class’s spectator section on the other side, but Yuan Ye acted as if he hadn’t heard and took a detour along the edge of the grass.

The reason was simple.

That way, he could pass by Class 3’s viewing area.

Zhang Chenxi suppressed his urge to ask questions and followed along in puzzlement.

The midday sun was blazing. Yuan Ye squinted and found Chun Zao in the elevated stands. The girl was still standing there, but no longer paying attention to the track – instead, she was looking down at her phone.

He walked up to the spectator stands and casually found an empty seat.

The person in front turned around: “Brother Yuan is awesome! My sprinting god!”

Yuan Ye glanced at him: “Where’s Tu Wenwei? My phone is still with him.”

Only then did the person in front remember, reaching into both left and right pants pockets simultaneously and pulling out two phones: “He went to do high jump, and he told me to give you his phone too.”

He added, “Oh, and he wants you to film some spectacular video of his high jump to post on his social media.”

Yuan Ye: “…”

He took both phones in his hands, holding them stacked: “Got it, I know.”

After responding, he turned back to observe. The girl had already sat back down, still not putting away her phone, her gaze glued to it.

What content could be so interesting?

Yuan Ye opened QQ and sent her a message: Aren’t you afraid of hurting your eyes with such bright sun?

Receiving the message notification, Chun Zao looked up in surprise, peering toward Class 1’s stands. Yuan Ye had somehow returned to the spectator area – his black hair tousled, his two long legs bent in the cramped aisle space, with a mineral water bottle placed on the ground beside him.

He was also holding his phone with one hand, motionless.

Could it be possible…

That he was staying on the same interface as her?

Chun Zao curved her lips at her own speculation and explained to him: Haven’t been on it long, just looking at photos I took earlier.

After saying this, she sent over a carefully selected photo of the white-clad boy running, as evidence.

Chun Zao’s phone model was rather old, and its camera’s ability to capture moving portraits was relatively outdated, so the photo quality was quite ordinary – it could only be considered the best of a bad lot.

But after opening the full image, Yuan Ye immediately smiled, zooming in and out, saving this photo that was so blurry you could barely make out the subject into his phone.

This was the best photographic work about him that he’d received in recent years.

Chun Zao said: Just didn’t take it well.

Yuan Ye said: My fault, I ran too fast.

Chun Zao: …

Chun Zao: Are you showing off?

Yuan Ye denied: No.

Just telling the truth – how could that count as bragging?

Thinking of the cheering manuscript from earlier, he wanted to ask a few more questions, but in the next second, he stopped this thought. He turned back again – the girl in the stands had disappeared.

The boy’s eyebrows raised slightly as he sent her a message, asking despite knowing: Not watching the competition anymore?

She replied: Not watching, going to work.

Yuan Ye: What work?

Chun Zao: Writing communication articles. A certain someone stole one of our class’s championship favorites, so we can only make up for it in cultural points.

The “certain (interested) someone” in her words smiled knowingly: Mm, then you need to work harder.

After waiting a moment and confirming no further response from the other side, Yuan Ye drank some water and suddenly fell into empty boredom. He brought up the photo again to look at it, his lips curving up from time to time. This state of irrepressible self-satisfaction continued until Tu Wenwei returned to his seat, dripping with sweat.

“Hey.”

He sat down beside Yuan Ye.

The boy quickly turned off his screen and looked over seriously: “What?”

Tu Wenwei spread his hands: “My high jump video.”

Yuan Ye paused for a second: “Forgot.” He handed back the other phone that he’d never even turned on: “Sorry.”

Tu Wenwei entered rage mode, continuously thundering into his right ear: “I’m fucking done! Are you even human? I reminded you a thousand times! My heroic figure! Do you know how handsome I looked clearing that bar just now!!!”

Yuan Ye frowned at the noise, feeling mischievous thoughts of competition and showing off.

He unlocked his phone, flipped the screen around, and aimed it at his furious deskmate: “It’s fine, as long as I have some. We’re bros – what’s mine is yours.”

Tu Wenwei took a closer look and got even angrier, punching his shoulder blade hard.

To avoid more of Tu Wenwei’s punches and kicks, Yuan Ye didn’t stay longer and left the stands, stepping down the stairs.

When the tall, strapping teenager appeared at the broadcast station, both announcers from the same grade were somewhat surprised. The male student among them asked what he needed.

Yuan Ye stopped in front of the table, glancing at the stacked manuscripts of various sizes: “Can I look at our class’s cheering manuscripts from today?”

“We haven’t sorted them yet,” they all recognized him, so the female announcer didn’t ask many questions, just pushed over a stack of papers at hand: “Grade 11 Classes 1 through 5 should all be in here.”

Yuan Ye picked them up and looked through them one by one.

After a moment, he locked onto one sheet and pulled it out: “Can I take this one?”

The girl took it and glanced at it, somewhat hesitantly.

Yuan Ye didn’t give a reason, just smiled: “The ones that have been read should have been tallied, right? Won’t it affect your work?”

The girl was slightly dazed by his irresistible, bright smile and compromised: “That’s true… alright, you can take it.”

—

After the morning events ended, students on the sports field and avenue scattered like birds and beasts.

Tong Yue, who had been as light as a young deer in green clothes in the morning, had become a disheveled seaweed ball from running around. She was so tired she couldn’t straighten her back and had to be supported on both sides by Chun Zao and Ding Ruowei as they dragged her back to the classroom.

Just as they stepped into the shadow of the teaching building, a clear male voice suddenly rang out behind them.

Chun Zao and Ding Ruowei turned back to see Lu Jingheng running over quickly.

The two immediately tactfully let go and stepped back half a step, allowing this official boyfriend to take over Tong Yue: “Are you okay?”

Tong Yue gave him a white-eyed look: “Do I look okay to you? My face is sunburned like a monkey’s butt.”

“Not at all.” The boy’s gaze stayed fixedly on her face: “It looks better than when you put on makeup on weekends – natural blush.”

Eww~

Ding Ruowei and Chun Zao simultaneously made teasing sounds, vigorously rubbing their arms.

Lu Jingheng’s face turned bright red as he glanced at them both and stopped talking.

Tong Yue protected her easily embarrassed little boyfriend: “What are you two doing—” Then accepted his rainbow fart calmly: “Really?”

Lu Jingheng was always responsive to her needs, taking out a small round mirror from his pants pocket: “See for yourself, how could I possibly lie to you?”

Tong Yue took it and switched between front and backlighting many times, finally smugly satisfied: “It is really pretty. I’m so beautiful. You’re right.”

Ah…

Ding Ruowei looked up at the sky and shivered as she left their tooth-achingly sweet romance live broadcast scene.

Chun Zao also quietly walked away. She was infected by their sugar-dispensing machine atmosphere and couldn’t help smiling. Was this what love was like – even the most disheveled and exhausted appearance could be beautified by the other person into that of a fairy?

Just as she was about to enter the classroom, Tong Yue bounced over, as if she’d absorbed full energy in one second, brimming with vitality.

Chun Zao, whose arm was linked, turned her head: “Aren’t you going to have lunch with your Lu puppy?”

Tong Yue said, “I’m a career-oriented strong woman – where would I find time to accompany him?”

Chun Zao: “…”

Tong Yue sighed listlessly: “There’s still a pile of stuff this afternoon. Let’s just make do in the classroom.”

Chun Zao nodded in agreement. Taking advantage of the lunch break, she could also race against time to write a few more drafts, striving for double advantages in both quality and quantity.

Planning this way, the girl stopped beside her chair, waiting for Lu Xinyue, who had already returned to her seat, to let her pass.

Lu Xinyue stood up, smiling as they exchanged a few “you worked hard” pleasantries, then pointed to her desktop: “Chun Zao, there’s a carton of milk on your desk. I remember it wasn’t there when we left this morning, right?”

“I don’t know who put it there, so I didn’t dare touch it.”

Chun Zao stopped and looked in the direction of her gesture.

In the center of her desk, there was indeed a carton of milk. Previously blocked by book stands, she hadn’t noticed it at all, but now that she was close, she couldn’t ignore it. Especially since the milk’s outer packaging was extremely distinctive – she had bought the same brand for Yuan Ye on that rainy National Day night, even though the whole milk specification was identical.

Tong Yue had sharp ears and backed up when she heard this, her gossip antenna spinning wildly: “What? What? What did I hear?”

“What did I see? Whose thoughtful little milk is this?” Finally, it was her turn to be sarcastic and counterattack: “Dear friend, you dared to ‘eww’ at me, but I see you’re not any better.”

A blush quickly spread across Chun Zao’s entire face and ears.

She slipped back into her chair, quickly stuffing the milk carton into her desk drawer with a thud, as if it had hit her heart, making breathing difficult.

…And the carton walls were still warm.

Lu Xinyue showed a motherly loving face, covering her mouth to secretly laugh: “Must be some boy who secretly put it through the window, right?”

Tong Yue leaned on her desk, exchanged a look with her, and also cackled: “I think I should know who that boy is.”

Chun Zao looked up and glared at her, that gaze so sharp it was like she wanted to slice her into sashimi on the spot.

Tong Yue quickly turned her head and pressed her lips tightly together.

Lu Xinyue was like a jumping creature in a melon field, pleading with Tong Yue: “Who is it exactly? Can you tell me? I’m anxious.”

Tong Yue acted mysteriously, not minding repeatedly treading on the edge of her sister’s irritation: “Maybe some prince who doesn’t want to reveal his name?”

Chun Zao couldn’t argue.

Silence was the best protective coloring.

Finally, when Tong Yue returned to her seat and Lu Xinyue left to buy food at the cafeteria, Chun Zao’s painfully tense nerves relaxed somewhat. She let out a breath and looked for Yuan Ye in her desk drawer to demand an explanation.

Chun Zao: Was it you?

About two minutes later, the boy replied: What?

Chun Zao was certain he was playing dumb: The milk.

He seemed somewhat surprised: That easy to guess?

Chun Zao took a breath: Who else but you?

Yuan Ye was eating in the cafeteria with Tu Wenwei. After receiving Chun Zao’s message, he directly put down his chopsticks.

Was he the only suspicious option?

This was an unexpected gain – when he placed the milk, he hadn’t thought the process of elimination would be so easy.

“You’re not eating?” Tu Wenwei’s chopstick tip reached toward the untouched braised pork ribs on his plate: “If you’re not eating, you can leave it for someone in need like me.”

Yuan Ye, who had been paying attention from the corner of his eye, knocked it back with a smack.

Tu Wenwei sheepishly withdrew his hand: “Aren’t you hungry after running this morning? Still have the mood to chat?”

Yuan Ye looked up: “How do you know I’m chatting?”

Tu Wenwei: “You’re typing while smiling so disgustingly – it’s pretty easy to guess, okay?”

Yuan Ye: “…”

He put his phone back on the table. Three seconds later, the screen lit up, and he picked it up again.

Tu Wenwei was speechless and buried his head to focus on eating.

A message from Chun Zao came: I know you meant well by sending hot drinks, but it’s not necessary. My friends and deskmate saw it and started guessing wildly and making a fuss. It doesn’t feel quite right…

Yuan Ye: How is it not right?

Chun Zao was stumped by these four words, staring blankly at the glowing phone screen for a moment. She was certain she couldn’t answer, her heart full of contradictory elation and impropriety. Finally, she could only carefully consider her words, typing one character at a time:

A-n-y-w-a-y, d-o-n-‘t s-e-n-d a-n-y m-o-r-e.

Before sending, she felt that “don’t” sounded somewhat coquettish for no reason, so she blushed and deleted the entire sentence, changing it to the serious and proper “anyway, don’t send anymore.”

Sent.

No response in the chat for a minute.

Suddenly, a very familiar furious cat emoji popped up: [Don’t tell me what to do!!!]

Author’s Note:

Yesterday’s victim: Song Jin’an

Today’s victim: Tu Wenwei