Early the next morning, Xu Zhenfan came to the shop carrying several items.

He had just been to Lu Xihe’s place and happened to meet the organizers of the tattoo design competition. They had given him the second-place red and gold banner to deliver, and they would be going to the champion and third-place winners later.

Since Xu Zhenfan was passing by, he brought it over for her.

“Oh, you’ve already displayed the trophy,” he said, pointing to the trophy in the center of the wooden shelf.

Xu Zhinan smiled and made an affirmative sound.

“I’ve come to deliver your banner,” he said, pulling out a long sealed tube from his bag, unscrewing the cap to reveal a rolled-up banner inside.

“There’s this too?”

“Yes. Where should we hang it? Do you have nails? I’ll hang it up for you.”

Xu Zhinan rummaged through her toolbox for nails and a hammer. Xu Zhenfan stood on a chair and hammered in the nails for her.

“Be careful.”

“No problem.”

Xu Zhenfan quickly finished the job and hung up the banner, which had eight large characters: “Tattoo Design Competition Champion,” with smaller text indicating “13th Annual” and the date.

The banner was hung above the wooden shelf that held the trophy. Xu Zhinan stepped back to admire it.

Xu Zhenfan jumped down from the chair and smiled at her expression: “When I was hanging Brother Lu’s banner earlier, he didn’t even want it. Said it was too tacky and didn’t match his shop’s decor. Why are you so happy about it?”

Tattoo shops typically had distinctive decoration styles that didn’t match this type of banner at all.

“I worked hard to win this championship, and more people might learn about me because of this competition, so it’s better to display it.”

Xu Zhenfan had also brought several photos—group photos taken after yesterday’s event and one of Xu Zhinan standing on stage with her trophy.

She didn’t have spare frames, so she used clips to hang the photos on the wall.

Previously, Xu Zhinan had been quite independent as a tattoo artist, not knowing many colleagues in the field. Her client base had grown gradually, step by step, and now she was considered a minor celebrity in the tattoo circle.

In the following days, many people came to her shop because of her reputation.

Xu Zhinan accepted several design commissions. These days, besides attending classes and working, she was busy drawing designs—even busier than when she was preparing for the competition.

“Ah Nan, are you going to class?” Zhao Qian called out to her.

“Coming, coming!”

Xu Zhinan hastily stuffed her sketches into her backpack.

As a senior, she didn’t have many classes left—just a few courses this semester, and after completing them, she would only need to finish her graduation project next semester to graduate.

Thursday afternoon’s class was an elective for her major, taught by a well-liked elderly professor in the department. His teaching style was humorous and engaging, and he was highly experienced.

Electives were less rigid than required courses, without as much strict theory or grading criteria. This professor’s elective was even more relaxed—usually each class focused on a small topic that students completed amid laughter and conversation.

The three roommates entered the classroom just as the bell rang.

“Let’s begin, everyone,” the professor tapped the blackboard. “Students in our major probably get tired of drawing design drafts all the time. As seniors, some of the faster ones are already interning and working, becoming proper ‘service providers.’ How does that feel?”

These words struck a chord, and the class immediately burst into complaints about being worn out by their demanding clients.

The professor laughed: “Today’s class is simple. We won’t be ‘service providers’ today. Each student will be their own ‘client,’ and we won’t draw those restrictive design drafts anymore.”

Everyone applauded in approval. Someone asked: “So what will we draw?”

“Draw yourselves.”

The room was quiet for two seconds before laughter erupted: “Professor, we’re seniors now. Why does this assignment sound like an elementary school art class?”

“The subject might be common, but haven’t your drawing skills improved? Besides, you can now draw flowers, grass, buildings, and other people with ease, but can you draw yourselves? Think about it—without looking in a mirror, can you draw yourself?”

The professor continued: “As seniors, you’re busy preparing for graduate school, employment, or studying abroad. You’re probably tired and might feel hurt when adapting to new environments. Your teachers have experienced all this in their youth and understand. So this class is not just for relaxation but also to help you quiet your mind and feel your inner self—what do you really want? What are your future goals?”

After these words, no one was laughing anymore. After a moment of silence, thunderous applause broke out.

None of the three roommates had brought mirrors, so they all had to use their phone front cameras instead.

Everyone took out their drawing paper and boards and began to draw. The large classroom fell silent.

The art design major emphasized design, portrait drawing was uncommon and only practiced when first learning to draw. Most students were rusty, but Xu Zhinan, because of her tattoo work, was the most familiar with it and drew quickly.

Zhao Qian, sitting beside her, wasn’t doing so well. She muttered while drawing: “When the professor first said those words, I was quite moved. But now as I’m drawing, I’m just getting angry. Am I really this ugly!?”

Zhao Qian erased her drawing and leaned over to look at Xu Zhinan’s. Then she glanced up and caught her reflection in the front camera that was serving as a mirror.

“…”

She pulled her head back: “I’m too insecure. This isn’t about listening to our inner selves; it’s about seeing the gap between ourselves and goddesses.”

Xu Zhinan smiled until her eyes narrowed to slits and pinched the back of Zhao Qian’s hand: “What are you doing?”

The class ended just as Xu Zhinan finished her drawing. Most people hadn’t completed theirs yet.

“Alright, everyone, class dismissed. I won’t keep you overtime. Consider the unfinished portion as a small assignment and bring it next time.”

Zhao Qian had reached a state of self-doubt with her drawing. When she turned to look at Xu Zhinan’s finished work, she felt even more like crying.

“This is way too beautiful!!!”

“Hmm?” Xu Zhinan didn’t think there was anything particularly outstanding about her drawing.

“No, wait.” Zhao Qian corrected herself. “It’s not that the drawing is beautiful—it’s that you’re beautiful. Nobody could make you look ugly in a drawing.”

“…”

She became more exaggerated: “You’ve been drawing designs in our dorm recently, right? Why don’t you just use this drawing? It’s so pretty, you could sell it for a high price.”

“Who would want my portrait tattooed on them?”

“Didn’t that junior come looking for you before, wanting to tattoo your name? He’d want this. What was his name again? Haven’t seen him recently.”

If Zhao Qian hadn’t brought it up, Xu Zhinan would have almost forgotten about that junior who had pursued her before.

“I haven’t seen him either. Maybe he’s found another girl he likes.”

This wasn’t surprising. When Xu Zhinan first entered university, it was even more dramatic—she would randomly walk around campus and encounter people trying to chat her up or pass her love letters.

But Xu Zhinan never warmed up to these people and never responded to their pursuits, so by now most had given up.

Zhao Qian nodded: “He chased after you for almost a year, right? Looks like his perseverance wasn’t good enough after all.”

Jiang Yue: “Even with more perseverance, it wouldn’t have helped.”

“That’s true. After seeing the blue-haired Lin Qingye, I believe that rejecting such a ‘delicacy’ as Lin Qingye would be a terrible waste!”

“…” Xu Zhinan pulled her arm. “Lower your voice.”

“Oh, right.” Zhao Qian looked around to make sure no one had heard, then continued in a quieter voice, “Since the junior has given up, why don’t you let your current suitor-in-waiting, Comrade Little Lin, get this tattoo? Let’s see how sincere his feelings are!”

Xu Zhinan remembered the “Ah Nan” on his shoulder blade.

At that time, they had just separated, and she had felt impulsive and unwilling to let go, which was why she tattooed her name on him.

“He’s afraid of pain. Something this large definitely wouldn’t work.”

After all, last time, just two characters had made his eyes red.

“He’s afraid of pain?” Zhao Qian was surprised. “He doesn’t look like he would be.”

Xu Zhinan smiled slightly.

Zhao Qian: “Then all the more reason to make him get it! How can he express his sincerity without pain?”

“…”

Zhao Qian slapped the table and declared passionately: “What kind of good man doesn’t get tattooed for his wife!”

Xu Zhinan’s ears buzzed at two particular words in that sentence. She hurriedly covered Zhao Qian’s mouth and whispered urgently: “What wife are you talking about?!”

Zhao Qian laughed heartily and pinched her face: “Little one, if you want to control Lin Qingye with such thin skin, you won’t succeed. The way you are now, be careful, he’ll have you wrapped around his finger in the future.”

“…”

Before the National Day holiday, Pingchuan University still had a sports meeting.

The weather wasn’t as stuffy as before, but the sunlight was still dazzlingly bright and glaring.

A row of people was already standing at the starting line on the red rubber track. With the sound of the starter pistol, everyone sprinted forward while classmates around them shouted encouragement.

The university sports meeting had many creative elements. Music majors had even brought a large red drum, pounding it with resounding beats.

The atmosphere was magnificent.

As a senior, this was Xu Zhinan’s last sports meeting.

A group of them sat in their assigned class seats, sheltered under a large sun umbrella. Zhao Qian was playing mobile games with several male classmates.

Xu Zhinan watched the competitions for a while, but the sunlight was too dazzling, so she lowered her head to look at her phone.

After a short while, Lin Qingye messaged, asking if she was at the shop.

[Xu Zhinan: Not there. Today is Pingchuan University’s sports meeting. Seniors are required to attend.]

[Xu Zhinan: Do you need something?]

[Lin Qingye: Nothing important. I’m at the studio with nothing to do. I thought if you were at the shop, I’d come over.]

[Xu Zhinan: The sports meeting will probably last quite a while. I don’t know when it will end.]

[Lin Qingye: No problem. I’ll come over in the evening then.]

Jiang Yue was using every moment to prepare for the graduate school entrance exam, and now had earphones in, listening to a politics online course.

The morning featured various running and track events, with field events scheduled for tomorrow. The afternoon was dedicated to group games like bean bag tossing, tug-of-war, and eight-person centipede races.

After lunch, they returned to their dorms to rest before heading back to the stadium.

In the morning, everyone felt novelty and excitement—some even posted on social media reminiscing about their last school sports meeting. But by the afternoon, under the scorching sun, enthusiasm had waned, replaced by complaints.

Zhao Qian sprayed sunscreen all over herself: “Formalism! Formalism! I’m so annoyed! Formalism is making me tan!”

As she spoke, she rolled up her short sleeves, revealing much whiter skin underneath.

Zhao Qian then lifted Xu Zhinan’s sleeve and became even more indignant: “Summer is almost over, how is it that you haven’t tanned at all!?”

“I did tan a little bit.”

“There’s no difference in your skin tone!”

Xu Zhinan: “I don’t seem to tan easily.”

That’s why she didn’t strictly use sunscreen—only occasionally when she was worried about getting sunburned during intense exposure.

Comparisons can be infuriating.

Zhao Qian completely gave up talking to her and went back to gaming with the guys.

Halfway through a game, their class monitor suddenly approached: “Do any of you have time later?”

Xu Zhinan asked: “What’s going on?”

“Gong Qingqing, who was supposed to participate in the eight-person centipede race, just fell off her bicycle on the way here and is now at the school infirmary.”

“Oh no! Is it serious?”

“Not too bad. She sprained her ankle a bit and is icing it now. But she definitely can’t participate in the eight-person centipede race, so we need someone to substitute.”

The sun outside was too strong, and the eight-person centipede race required practice and coordination. A misstep could lead to falls, so nobody volunteered immediately.

The class monitor asked again: “Who’s willing to go?”

Still no answer. Zhao Qian even leaned back, clutching her phone, clearly refusing.

Xu Zhinan looked around and hesitantly raised her hand: “I’ll substitute then.”

“Be careful not to fall too,” Zhao Qian said.

“I won’t, I won’t. We’ll practice again before the competition starts. You can be positioned at the very edge—you’ll only need to have one leg tied,” the class monitor quickly assured her, afraid she might change her mind.

“When does the competition start?”

“Still early. It starts at five in the afternoon, and I’ll come get you half an hour early so we can practice and get familiar with it.”

“Okay.”

“Thank you so much, Ah Nan!”

Just as she finished speaking, there was a sudden commotion at the stadium entrance.

Zhao Qian reacted intensely, elbowing Xu Zhinan and covering her mouth as she leaned in to whisper: “Oh my god! Ah Nan, look!”

Xu Zhinan followed her gaze toward the entrance where a crowd had gathered, bustling and swarming around someone particularly tall in the middle.

Xu Zhinan was stunned.

Lin Qingye.

Why had he come to the university?

Even when he was still a senior, people rarely saw him on campus, let alone now after he had become famous from the TV show.

People in the stands immediately surged forward, leaning over the railings with necks stretched out to see, many taking out their phones to take pictures.

“He’s not here to find you, is he?” Zhao Qian whispered in her ear.

“Probably not.”

Zhao Qian laughed: “Then I can’t think of any other reason why he would come to the school.”

“…”

Lin Qingye walked into the grounds surrounded by people. His former faculty advisor, who now supervised the new freshmen, ran over when he saw him approaching and teased: “Well, what wind blew such a big shot our way?”

Lin Qingye smiled casually and greeted him: “Advisor.”

“The professors are all here today, over there. Go say hello.”

Students like Lin Qingye—creative, capable, talented—were professors’ favorites. Although he hadn’t been particularly attentive in class before, the professors still admired him.

He was the type of student that teachers would remember clearly after years of teaching thousands whose names they’d forget.

Lin Qingye went to greet the professors, and the crowd around him thinned.

After exchanging pleasantries and asking about recent developments, Lin Qingye stood to the side and messaged Xu Zhinan: Where are you?

[Ah Nan: To your right, by the yellow chairs.]

Lin Qingye looked over and easily found Xu Zhinan in the crowd. Her fair skin seemed to glow, making her easy to spot.

They were quite far apart. He squinted for a while before his phone vibrated again.

Ah Nan: Everyone is watching you. Stop staring at me.]

Lin Qingye smiled, looked at his phone, then instinctively glanced in her direction again. She was gone, having hidden somewhere.

[Ah Nan: Why did you come here?]

[Lin Qingye: Nothing to do. Just came to see.]

Xu Zhinan thought to herself that he didn’t use to be this restless—he should prefer peace.

There were too many people around, and Lin Qingye now had such a status. People at the school were already paying attention to the two of them because of those previous forum posts. Xu Zhinan didn’t dare have too much interaction with him that might attract attention.

Shortly after, the class monitor came to find her: “Ah Nan, let’s go. We need to practice for the eight-person centipede race.”

Xu Zhinan paused, having almost forgotten she had agreed to substitute due to Lin Qingye’s distraction.

But now…

In the eight-person centipede race, poor coordination often led to falls, and it was common for the whole group to tumble into a dog-eating-grass position.

With Lin Qingye watching nearby, she felt somewhat desperate.

The eight-person centipede race was about to begin. On the central lawn, each class was already practicing—tying fabric strips around their ankles in pairs, supporting each other’s shoulders, and moving forward in unison, chanting “one-two, one-two.”

Since Xu Zhinan was a last-minute addition, she was positioned at the very edge, next to a female classmate.

Xu Zhinan glanced sideways at Lin Qingye in the stands. His position gave him a direct view of Xu Zhinan’s class area.

She inexplicably felt her face heating up.

After practicing a few times, Xu Zhinan proved to be quite coordinated and cooperated well, without falling once, better than she had imagined.

Soon, the 100-meter eight-person centipede race began, conducted in batches, with other majors starting first.

Lin Qingye watched from the stands for a while, then turned to the elderly professor beside him: “Professor, shall we go down and take a closer look?”

The professor, who was particularly fond of him, naturally agreed: “Sure, I also feel that watching from here lacks the sense of their vitality and energy.”

Everyone around was paying attention to Lin Qingye, but with the respected music department professor standing next to him, they didn’t dare approach too closely and could only observe from a distance.

Xu Zhinan also noticed this. He was standing on her side, not far away—just three or four meters—casually chatting with the professor.

“…”

Xu Zhinan had never seen him chatting casually with anyone before.

Meanwhile, Zhao Qian stood on the other side, secretly making faces at her. Heat crept up her neck, first burning her ears, then her cheeks.

The eight-person centipede race was about to start. The referee stood in the middle, holding a relay baton high: “Ready—”

“Go!”

At first, everything went smoothly. No one made mistakes, but they weren’t moving very fast. Teams from the classes on either side quickly outpaced them by some distance.

Someone grew impatient and took bigger steps. Others couldn’t keep up, and like dominoes, they fell in succession. Xu Zhinan was pulled down by the person next to her.

With a thud, her knees landed directly on the grass.

There was no time to worry about whether it hurt. Everyone helped each other up, shouting “one-two” as they continued forward.

Unfortunately, they still came in last.

But in games like this, no one cared about the placement—participation was what mattered, just for fun.

Zhao Qian ran over: “Are you okay, Ah Nan? Didn’t Yue Yue tell me you hurt your knee during summer vacation?”

“I’m fine. That was just a scrape. The grass is soft when falling, it doesn’t hurt.”

Zhao Qian was relieved and whispered in her ear: “When you fell just now, I was afraid Lin Qingye would rush over to help you. I saw him take a step forward.”

Xu Zhinan paused.

Zhao Qian laughed: “But I think he’s quite mischievous too. Later, when he saw you get up on your own without issue, he secretly smiled!”

“…”

With so many people around, Xu Zhinan didn’t dare look back at him.

She dusted off her pants. When she fell, she had picked up some dirt clumps. It had rained last night, so her knees now had two muddy spots.

“I’m going to the bathroom to wash this off,” Xu Zhinan said.

“Okay. Yue Yue just called me for something, so I won’t come with you. We’ll be at the class stands—come find us afterward.”

“Alright.”

Entering the building outside the stadium perimeter immediately brought coolness. It was empty, with all the noise isolated outside.

Xu Zhinan stood at the sink, using tissue paper dampened with water to wipe the mud spots on her pants.

Suddenly, a voice came from behind her—

“Ah Nan.”

She froze, turned around, and saw Lin Qingye standing behind her. She didn’t know when he had entered.

“Are you hurt from the fall?”

Xu Zhinan recalled what Zhao Qian had said earlier—I think he’s quite mischievous too. Later, when he saw you get up on your own without issue, he secretly smiled!

She pouted slightly and answered: “No.”

Lin Qingye stepped forward and suddenly crouched down in front of her. Xu Zhinan was startled and stepped back, only to have him grasp her ankle.

“Let me see,” he said softly.

Xu Zhinan was slightly dazed, watching as he rolled up her pant leg to reveal her knee.

Indeed, she wasn’t injured, but it was a bit red.

However, Xu Zhinan had delicate skin that easily showed marks. Lin Qingye looked at her leg, but his thoughts inadvertently wandered, and his Adam’s apple bobbed.

Xu Zhinan felt awkward: “It’s fine. The redness will go down soon. It doesn’t hurt.”

She had no idea what Lin Qingye was thinking at that moment.

He stood up and took her wrist. Next to the bathroom was an indoor ping-pong room.

“Where are we going?” Xu Zhinan asked.

“Someone might come in here.”

Hearing this, Xu Zhinan obediently followed him. It was only after Lin Qingye turned and closed the door that she realized what was happening.

If someone might come in, they should have separated quickly—why had she let him lead her into this room alone?

“What are we doing here?”

Lin Qingye pulled down a soft mat used for sit-ups, sat down, and patted the space beside him, indicating she should sit too. His answer was completely self-assured: “Slacking off. Isn’t it too sunny outside?”

“…”

Xu Zhinan hesitated for a moment but finally sat down.

She didn’t sit very close to him, positioning herself at the edge of the mat, hugging her legs.

The window was half-open, allowing sunlight and a warm breeze to enter.

Lin Qingye opened his phone, which contained a newly recorded audio file—a background melody of piano accompanied by drums. He played it for Xu Zhinan.

“Is this a new song?”

“Yes, it’s going on the album.”

“It sounds really good. Is the demo already finished?”

“Not yet. It’s just a melody I played around with yesterday. I haven’t written the lyrics, but it’s set.”

“Hmm?”

He moved the audio back to the beginning, played it again, and then rhythmically tapped on the floor: “Roughly like this.”

Xu Zhinan didn’t know much about music and couldn’t discuss it like his band members. After listening, she just thought it was impressive.

In her art department, talented people could create art with anything. For Lin Qingye, it seemed he could effortlessly create music.

Just as she was about to speak, a male student suddenly walked past the window of the ping-pong room. At that height, only his shoulders and above were visible. He stopped at the window and turned to call out to a friend.

The window was open, allowing the sound to come through very clearly.

Xu Zhinan jumped in fright, instinctively bending down quickly to keep her head below the windowsill.

She glanced at Lin Qingye, raised her hand, and pressed on his back, pushing him down too.

Both bent over, hiding by the window of the ping-pong room.

Xu Zhinan watched the window, only letting out a gentle sigh of relief after seeing the two male students leave. When she shifted her gaze, she suddenly realized how close she was to Lin Qingye—close enough to feel each other’s breath.

She froze, blinking slowly, her dark eyelashes fluttering.

She was wearing a simple white round-neck T-shirt today. With this movement, the neckline drooped, vaguely revealing what was beneath. She didn’t notice.

Lin Qingye caught only a glimpse before quickly looking away, not daring to look again. The line of his jaw tightened instantly.

“Ah Nan,” his voice was a bit hoarse.

She stared blankly: “Huh?”

His eyes darkened, and he grew still. His back teeth clenched. After two seconds, he suddenly laughed lightly and said casually: “Never mind, it’s nothing. I won’t scare you.”

Xu Zhinan was confused: “What is it?”

“Nothing.” Lin Qingye wouldn’t tell her.

But Xu Zhinan had, after all, hung around with him for three years and had been corrupted quite a bit. After a moment, she suddenly realized that his hoarse voice just now was similar to that certain situation.

As soon as this thought surfaced, she felt her face beginning to heat up again.

She stared at Lin Qingye for a while, trying to find some clue on his face, but to no avail.

Xu Zhinan unconsciously let her gaze drift downward.

Following his jawline, Adam’s apple, collarbone, continuing down to his abdomen, her chin was suddenly held by a pair of hands, preventing her from moving.

Lin Qingye held her chin and lifted it back up, looking directly into her eyes, smiling mischievously and casually: “Where are you trying to look?”

Xu Zhinan suddenly realized what she had been doing and instantly blushed.

Lin Qingye, preemptively accusing her, said with a smile:

“How shameless are you?”