Ban Sheng’s Adam’s apple slid slowly up and down. He was about to say something when his phone vibrated in his pocket.

He took it out. Ban Sheng tilted his chin toward Lin Weixia, gesturing for her to head downstairs first.

Lin Weixia nodded and went ahead. She made her way down to the lobby, then turned left into a private dining room with a wooden sign reading Bamboo Grove hanging above the door. The view at the entrance was half-blocked by a pot of cherry blossoms leaning outward. She stepped inside and spotted an open seat, so she took it.

Lin Weixia had barely sat down when a head suddenly popped up beside her, startling her.

It was the same boy from earlier — the one who had sighed dramatically about losing his dream girl. He leaned in and said:

“Lin Weixia, this is literally the first time I’ve ever seen you outside of school.”

“Is that really so surprising?” Lin Weixia laughed.

“Not at all — I’m dead serious. And today’s the first time the goddess has ever sat next to me. What a shame…”

The boy wore small wire-rimmed glasses and looked studious at a glance, but he talked a mile a minute and loved clowning around — he even managed to coax a smile out of Lin Weixia, who rarely let her guard down.

When Ban Sheng came downstairs after finishing his call, this was the scene that greeted him. He stood with one hand in his pocket and looked on, expression blank.

The bespectacled boy had edged remarkably close, practically nose-to-nose with Lin Weixia, eyes bright as he went on showing off something or other. Lin Weixia listened with focused attention, her dark lashes fluttering with each blink — each flutter practically landing in the heart of the boy beside her.

The bespectacled boy was thoroughly lost in it when, belatedly, he felt something was off — the distinct sensation of a stare burning into him from somewhere, cold as a blade of light, sending a chill down his spine.

He spun around and met a pair of eyes.

Ban Sheng said nothing. He fixed the boy in his gaze with a slow, measured look. He carried an inherent air of pressure that made people’s blood run cold. The bespectacled boy scrambled out of his seat and found himself another place to sit.

Lin Weixia had no idea what had just transpired. A dark figure settled into the seat beside her, and she looked up with a smile:

“You’re here.”

“Mm.”

The table had been chatting for a little while when a server came in to set out the chopsticks and bowls. Lin Weixia had drifted off into her own thoughts when the female classmate to her left — who had witnessed everything — poked her arm and said in a low voice:

“The person you want to pursue is so intimidating — I didn’t even dare look at him just now.”

Lin Weixia let out a puzzled “Hm?” then shook her head, her voice firm: “He’s not intimidating.”

He’s wonderful.

The small interlude passed quickly, and dishes began arriving one by one. Ban Sheng leaned back in his chair, still unhurriedly rinsing his chopsticks and bowl in the hot water. Lin Weixia’s had already been rinsed for her well in advance. She picked up her chopsticks, was just about to reach for some food — when they were swiftly plucked from her hand.

Ban Sheng was bent over his soup, head lowered. With his left hand still holding her chopsticks, he passed them to the server without even looking up:

“Exchange these for a new pair.”

“Of course.” The server took them.

Lin Weixia looked carefully at those disposable chopsticks and only then noticed there were splinters on them — rough, protruding fibers. He was worried the chopsticks would cut her hands.

Realizing this, Lin Weixia’s lips curved up quietly. What was intimidating about him? He was clearly wonderful.

His goodness was hers alone to know.

The table filled quickly with food. Lin Weixia held her chopsticks and nibbled slowly on a green bean, noticing that Ban Sheng had reached for the stir-fried hollow cabbage stems twice and the snow peas braised with beef four times.

Lin Weixia was absolutely certain: Ban Sheng liked that dish.

The lazy Susan was being spun back and forth as dish after dish passed in front of her. Lin Weixia watched carefully and, just as the snow peas with beef was about to come around to Ban Sheng’s side, she pressed down on the glass turntable.

It stopped.

Ban Sheng’s jaw moved as he finished eating. He was reaching for a glass of water, not thinking about taking more food at all — and then he noticed the entire table staring at him. He raised an eyebrow.

“Aren’t you going to eat some?” Lin Weixia leaned in and asked.

Ban Sheng looked up. “Eat what?”

“This dish. I saw you take from it four times.”

Ban Sheng lowered his head and met a pair of utterly resolute eyes, then understood what she meant. He let out a laugh, his chest shaking gently:

“Oh.”

So Ban Sheng gave her the satisfaction and reached over for the dish. Only after he had served himself did Lin Weixia release her hand from the turntable — which promptly earned the entire table’s indignation, bringing a chorus of laughter and mock protests.

“The rest of us — what are we supposed to eat?! That’s practically force-feeding us secondhand affection. I’m full, I’m done, I can’t eat anymore.”

“Wuwuwuwu — Lin Weixia, you stood up in front of everyone earlier and said you were pursuing someone. I didn’t really believe it before, but I believe it now.”

“Weixia, you’re so cute — but have you considered that Ban the handsome one might have just been reaching for that dish so many times because he was too lazy to spin the turntable? Just grabbing whatever was nearby?”

The teasing and jokes went on until Lin Weixia’s face bloomed pink. She looked like she wanted to bury her head into the floor.

After dinner, the group left the Bamboo Grove private room and gathered at the lounge area to play games and cards. The two of them took their seats one after the other.

Ban Sheng propped one elbow on the sofa armrest, lounging lazily with his phone. Seeing the others grab drinks, Lin Weixia stood up and went along.

Standing in front of a row of refrigerated cabinets, a blast of cold air hit her and she shivered — she would never understand why boys loved cold drinks so much in the middle of winter.

Lin Weixia opened the cabinet door and thought carefully. In high school, the cold drink Ban Sheng had loved most was cola — the blue can, Pepsi.

Lin Weixia deliberately chose a blue can of Pepsi, closed the cabinet door, and glanced across at the boy on the sofa. His back was to her, a strip of pale neck exposed, shoulders slightly lowered — the usual unhurried slouch.

She had no idea whether he still liked it.

Lin Weixia stared at the frosty condensation on the blue can, and a rush of high school memories came flooding back.

Her companion, noticing Lin Weixia standing in place and making no move, tapped her on the shoulder and laughed: “Where’d your mind go?”

Lin Weixia walked back with the can and sat down beside Ban Sheng. Almost the moment she got close, she caught the cool, dark scent of oud that clung to him.

The hems of their clothes overlapped. Ban Sheng was staring at a message on his phone, irritation flickering across his face for a moment. He was just about to close the app when—

A sound came from nearby — a dull thud, not quite crisp, like the strained noise of someone struggling with a pull tab.

He glanced over. Lin Weixia was wrestling with the cola can, and not only had she failed to open it — the silver tab had snapped in half. White foam was gushing up rapidly and spilling across the back of her hand.

His dark eyes caught the flash of frustration across her face.

Something stirred in his chest.

Ban Sheng’s throat worked, his Adam’s apple shifting.

Lin Weixia let out a quiet sigh. How was she incapable of even opening a can? Then a hand appeared in her line of sight — pale veins standing out beneath fair skin.

Ban Sheng pulled a few tissues out of a box. His jaw held that casual, nonchalant angle — but his movements were careful and precise. His long-boned fingers intertwined with her pale ones, warm meeting cold, then shifted and turned — their hands grazing against each other as he worked.

There are some memories that never leave a person.

Ban Sheng chided her in front of everyone, his low voice landing right in her ear:

“Hopeless.”

“I’m ranked first in my major,” Lin Weixia said back, very quietly.

Ban Sheng’s lip quirked but he said nothing. She was plenty clever — just a little hopeless when it came to pursuing someone.

The two of them sat on the sofa and played games for a while. Lin Weixia reached over and tugged on Ban Sheng’s sleeve, her eyes signaling that it was time to head upstairs and rest.

The others were wide awake and ready to pull an all-nighter, but Lin Weixia was already starting to nod off.

Ban Sheng stood up, picked up the half-finished can of cola still on the table and drained it in one go, then grabbed his phone and stepped away from the sofa. Lin Weixia said a few goodbyes to her classmates and followed him upstairs.

Back in the room, the quiet settled noticeably around them. The key card clicked in, and warm amber light spread softly through the space. The air conditioner’s blades began to stir with a low humming sound.

Ban Sheng walked over and pushed open the slatted window. A cold, damp rush of air swept in, and the room felt instantly fresher.

Lin Weixia took off her coat and prepared to shower, going to the bathroom to adjust the water temperature. The sound of running water drifted out from behind the bathroom door, oddly distant to the ears.

Ban Sheng’s throat was feeling itchy. He was about to slip out onto the balcony for a cigarette when he heard Lin Weixia call his name.

Thinking something had happened to her, he dropped the cigarette and lighter on the table, expression sharpening, and strode over in several long steps — just reaching the bathroom door.

The door swung open. Lin Weixia, hurrying out without paying attention, walked headlong into the man’s chest.

Ban Sheng’s expression was taut. He grabbed hold of her arm:

“What happened?”

He didn’t even realize it himself — the hand gripping Lin Weixia had clenched involuntarily from sheer alarm. Lin Weixia felt a pang of pain from the grip, but she didn’t say so. Looking into Ban Sheng’s eyes, she understood — he had thought something was wrong.

“I’m fine,” Lin Weixia said.

She felt a little embarrassed, but said it anyway: “I just came in to check the water temperature, but then I thought — maybe you should shower first. Do you want to go first?”

Lin Weixia’s eyes were clear, his reflection sitting inside her pupils as she looked at him, asking in earnest.

This is what it means to pursue someone, she thought. To care for a person sincerely. To give way in everything. It was how she showed her feelings for someone — her first time, ever, showing them for anyone.

Ban Sheng’s thin eyelids flickered. He pressed his back teeth together, the tendon on the side of his neck pulsing faintly. He understood now — and found it both exasperating and endearing.

He had never seen a girl pursue someone quite like this before.

Funny. And strangely touching.

He looked down at her. Lin Weixia had changed so much. In high school, she had been cool, aloof, almost closed off.

Now, she had been touched by more sunlight. Her personality had brightened. Lin Weixia smiled more than she used to, and was beginning to try to express herself — no longer holding everything inside.

Like right now: daring to say out loud in front of everyone that she was pursuing him, trying to pay attention to what he liked to eat, opening drinks for him.

Ban Sheng stared at her. Lin Weixia had taken off her coat and was wearing only a black fitted ribbed knit top. Two crescent-shaped collarbones were etched into her chest; his gaze trailed lower — the curve of her chest was full and beautifully shaped, a faint trace of white lace barely visible. Her denim jeans clung to the line of her hips.

A wandering imagination was the most unsettling thing.

They were standing very close. And again, Ban Sheng caught the scent drifting from her — white peach, ripe and sweet.

Her hair was slightly damp from the water, held up with a claw clip. The length of her neck was white and slender — press down there with any force at all, give it a gentle kneading, and it would redden in no time.

She looked up at him, her eyes wet with the clean clarity of still water, innocent in a way that made a person want to take advantage of her.

Ban Sheng’s gaze darkened as it rested on her — shifting, churning — something primal surfacing, something that resisted being pushed back down, threatening to spill out entirely.

Lin Weixia felt something unsettling in his stare, felt her heart contract. She sensed the hand gripping her arm loosen slowly, a broad palm sliding down to the curve of her waist — and felt a warmth rush through her there, a tingling numbness that left her unable to move.

Before she could react, Ban Sheng’s arm circled around her, and with a firm pull—

Her back was pressed against the door frame. Ban Sheng’s thigh pressed against her knees. They were even closer now — two bodies fitted together without a gap.

Outside, rain was still dripping steadily, its sound filling the space. Inside, the silence was absolute.

The sound of each other’s breathing was audible.

Parched.

Ban Sheng looked at her, that reckless edge of his surfacing, his voice dropping to a rasp:

“Lin Weixia — are you reeling me in?”

Lin Weixia was nervous, but she held her composure and gave a steady nod, though her voice came out slightly unsteady:

“Yes. Taking the bait?”

Ban Sheng seemed to be speaking on a breath alone, the sound of it enough to make one’s bones go weak. His gaze swept over her, that lazy boldness in his eyes as good as saying let’s see what you’ve got, and he smiled:

“I’ll think about it.”