Tan Yin had enjoyed a wonderfully warm nap, and the moment sketching class ended, she wanted to catch up with Jiang Yilu — only to find her friend had already vanished without a trace. Jiang Yilu had been acting mysterious lately, and Tan Yin had no idea what she was up to.

With no other option, Tan Yin wandered around for a while before eventually ducking under Chu Hang’s absurdly enormous umbrella again. His pace today was unusually slow, so she didn’t even need to jog to keep up.

Looking out at the storm with no end in sight, Tan Yin grew a little wistful. “When will I finally get to be normal again?” she sighed. “I really want some milk tea. This kind of weather is exactly when you should be loading up on sugar. I really want to go to that dessert shop outside campus and get an oolong milk tea with coconut jelly and pudding.”

Tan Yin complained, but she also knew better than to wander far before the storm passed. Yet, as if fate wanted to rub it in her face, Chu Hang ended up heading straight toward that very dessert shop outside campus.

Because of the storm, the shop wasn’t very crowded. Chu Hang placed his order and found an inconspicuous corner seat.

Before long, the server brought over his hot drink — and of all things, it was a cup of oolong milk tea with coconut jelly and pudding!

Tan Yin nearly cried from envy. She could only inhale the fragrance of the tea from a distance, sitting beside Chu Hang and staring at the cup with naked longing.

But after ordering it, Chu Hang didn’t drink it. Instead, he called the server back over and cleared his throat. “Actually, I don’t feel like milk tea anymore — it’s too sweet. Could I get an Earl Grey instead?”

The server smiled and nodded, and before long, brought over the Earl Grey.

A man’s heart really could change on a dime, Tan Yin thought, dumbfounded — he’d only just ordered the milk tea and already fallen out of love with it, switching allegiance to Earl Grey.

But since Chu Hang didn’t want that oolong milk tea, leaving it untouched would just be a waste. And his seat happened to be in a corner with no one around — front, back, or sides. Just as Tan Yin’s inner criminal instincts started stirring, Chu Hang got up and headed to the restroom…

Perfect timing, perfect circumstances — under conditions like these, not drinking it would be practically unpatriotic!

Without hesitation, she put the straw to her lips and took a sip.

The milk tea was served in an opaque paper cup, so even if she drank from it, no one would ever be able to tell.

One sip in, and Tan Yin could only marvel — this milk tea was absolutely delicious!

She was taking small, careful sips when Chu Hang returned. As expected, he showed no sign of noticing her, his expression as flat and indifferent as ever. He sat back down and, sure enough, completely ignored the milk tea, sipping only his Earl Grey.

So Tan Yin quietly sipped her stolen milk tea while Chu Hang drank his tea, and the two of them sat there in what felt, oddly enough, like a peaceful, quiet moment. Except—

Except that peace didn’t last long, because Xu Yu came barging through the door, breaking the calm.

“Weren’t we supposed to meet at the café?” Xu Yu said, brushing raindrops off his shoulders and looking around the dessert shop’s distinctly girly décor with an expression somewhere between confusion and disbelief. “Why’d you pick this place? You don’t even like sweets.” As he spoke, he sat down, still grumbling. “And this dessert shop barely has anyone in it — did you really have to pick a corner this hard to find?”

Chu Hang’s tone stayed perfectly calm. “I’m tired of the café. This place felt fresh.”

“Fine, whatever.” Xu Yu shook his head. “If I hadn’t spotted your custom-made fancy umbrella in the umbrella stand outside, I’d have thought I heard the wrong meeting spot.” Mentioning the umbrella seemed to remind him of something, and his confusion deepened. “Actually, can I ask why you special-ordered such a huge umbrella in the first place? Anyone who didn’t know better would think you were the reincarnation of Xu Xian, carrying that giant thing to Broken Bridge to find Bai Suzhen.”

“…”

That was a question Tan Yin herself was dying to ask too, and she sat there just as attentively as Xu Yu, waiting for an answer.

But Chu Hang didn’t answer at all. He just shot Xu Yu a look and said flatly: “Xu Yu, you’re being too nosy.”

Xu Yu just laughed. Tan Yin, meanwhile, was about to make a comment of her own when her nose suddenly itched, and she let out an earth-shattering sneeze.

Rubbing her nose, feeling a little embarrassed even though no one could hear her, she settled back down — but not long after, she sneezed again. Then a third time. A fourth…

A cold seemed unlikely. Sniffing carefully, she finally identified the culprit — Xu Yu’s jacket carried a faint scent of lily perfume.

Tan Yin couldn’t help groaning aloud. “Xu Yu, do you have some kind of vendetta against me? I’m allergic to lily pollen! What powder-and-rouge den did you just crawl out of, covered in lily pollen like that?”

Still sneezing, she was about to get up and leave when Chu Hang beat her to speaking—

“That jacket’s ugly. Take it off.”

Xu Yu: ???

“Seriously?” Xu Yu looked completely unconvinced. “Duan Yingfei said it looked great on me!”

“You actually believe her? She probably just wanted you to give her exam pointers first.”

“…” Xu Yu had nothing to say to that, and silently took off the jacket without a word.

But Chu Hang wasn’t done twisting the knife. He frowned. “And move it further away — every time I connect you with that jacket, your whole image drops a level in my mind.”

The thought that even his friend’s opinion of his looks might suffer because of the jacket was enough for Xu Yu to immediately, obediently, move it farther away.

Tan Yin let out a relieved breath — sure enough, her sneezing stopped. She settled back beside Chu Hang and sneaked a couple more sips of milk tea.

But having taken off his jacket, Xu Yu sat there a while and started feeling thirsty. “Where’s my coffee? What’s taking so long?” He glanced at the milk tea beside Chu Hang. “You ordered the tea for yourself, so is this milk tea for me?”

Though it seemed a little odd that Chu Hang would order him milk tea, Xu Yu was thirsty enough not to question it further, and simply reached for the cup to drink.

Tan Yin couldn’t help herself. “Don’t drink that! I already drank from it!!! Xu Yu, just wait for your own coffee!”

But no matter how frantically she called out, Xu Yu obviously couldn’t hear her. He reached for the milk tea and was just about to drink from it — but right as the straw reached his lips, Chu Hang forcibly snatched it out of his hands.

“That’s not for you.”

Xu Yu looked entirely unconvinced. “You already ordered tea for yourself, and you’re not even touching this — if it’s not for me, then who’s it for?”

Chu Hang, expression stern, said, “It’s for me.”

Xu Yu said nothing, just gave him a knowing look — the kind that said I know you secretly bought this for me and just won’t admit it — and said with total confidence, “Then go ahead and drink it.” He added, mischievously, “If you won’t, I will.” He reached out as if to snatch the cup back.

Chu Hang clearly had no intention of actually drinking it, but seemingly refusing to let Xu Yu have it out of stubbornness, he gritted his teeth, picked up the cup, and took a large, almost spiteful gulp.

Once he’d finished, he looked back at Xu Yu. “There. I drank it. Go wait for your own coffee.”

Xu Yu let out a small, disbelieving laugh. “Chu Hang, I feel like you’ve been acting weird lately. Something I can’t quite put my finger on.”

Chu Hang turned his head aside, pressing his lips together. “You’re overthinking it.” He dropped his gaze and changed the subject. “Didn’t you want me to look over a construction contract for you? Hand it over — which terms are giving you trouble?”

Xu Yu smacked his forehead, remembering the actual reason he’d come, and pulled a contract out of his bag. “Here, it’s for a friend of mine, I looked it over as a favor and already made some edits myself, but some of the professional details only someone in your field would catch, like hidden traps buried in certain clauses. Take another look for me.”

While Chu Hang calmly and steadily read through the contract, Tan Yin found herself far from calm. She stared at the milk tea — she’d only secretly had a little, so Chu Hang hadn’t noticed anything off, but now that he’d drunk from it too, she couldn’t sneak any more…

The thought left her feeling a bit put out. She glanced at Chu Hang. “You know, Chu Hang, now that you’ve drunk from the milk tea I already drank from, technically speaking, we’ve indirectly kissed. And since you’re the one who initiated it, by rights…” Tan Yin cleared her throat and continued, with dramatic conviction, “You owe me!”

Chu Hang, who had been reading the contract with one hand while lifting his tea to take a sip with the other, was, without any warning whatsoever, suddenly caught off guard and choked on his drink — right in front of Xu Yu, who was left staring at his usually impeccably composed, near-fastidiously mannered friend in shock.

“Chu Hang, you okay?”

Chu Hang, meeting Xu Yu’s gaze with visible effort at composure, said, “I’m fine. Just saw a particularly outrageous clause.”

“Oh, then hurry up and fix it for me.”

Tan Yin, having been invisible for several days straight thanks to the endless storms, was bored enough that — figuring no one could hear her anyway — she decided to go all out. She plopped down right next to Chu Hang. “Chu Hang, I’m not a greedy person. When I say you owe me, I don’t need your heart or your hand in marriage — just buy me an apartment, that’ll do. I saw that big flat at Hengxin Garden in the western suburbs, that one’s nice. Or if that’s not possible, a Cayenne works too…”

“…”

Xu Yu started to look a little tense, because he noticed Chu Hang’s frown getting deeper and deeper the more he read the contract. Uneasy, he asked, “Chu Hang, are there more hidden problems in this that I missed?”

Contrary to what Xu Yu expected, though the contract genuinely did have a few traps that only an architecture professional would catch, most of his own edits held up fine. He had no idea why Chu Hang’s expression had gone so dark — honestly, the terms of the contract were, on the whole, pretty fair.

Xu Yu wasn’t sure if it was just his imagination, but lately, he felt like Chu Hang had been acting strange — or rather, it wasn’t just recent; this strangeness had been going on for a while now. Every stormy day before, Chu Hang would sit there tight-lipped and impossible to please. But lately, on those same stormy days, Xu Yu noticed his expressions had gotten a lot more varied besides the occasional dark look — sometimes raising an eyebrow, sometimes blushing, sometimes the corner of his mouth twitching up, sometimes seeming distracted…

Once they’d finished going over the contract, the two of them pushed open the dessert shop door to leave, just as a motorcycle sped past. Chu Hang had clearly spotted it in time — he’d even started shifting his footing — but then he suddenly froze in place as if rooted to the spot, and the motorcycle ended up plowing straight through a puddle right in front of them, splashing his entire pant leg with muddy water.

Though Xu Yu was baffled by Chu Hang’s uncharacteristic reaction, Tan Yin remained completely oblivious. As far as she was concerned, Chu Hang had simply been slow to react and gotten splashed by the passing motorcycle. But even though it was rough luck for him, it had actually saved her — because if he’d moved out of the way as planned, the splash would have hit her instead, since she’d been standing not far behind him, lost in thought watching the storm.

Looking at the water still dripping down his soaked pant leg, Tan Yin felt a pang of guilt. “Chu Hang, thanks for taking that hit for me. Now I feel bad even asking you for that flat at Hengxin Garden — forget the apartment. And forget the car too, never mind…”

Xu Yu, already a bit thrown by Chu Hang’s odd behavior, was even more stunned by what happened next. Chu Hang — a self-professed clean freak — had just been drenched head to toe in filthy water, and instead of showing the slightest hint of disgust, he actually… he actually smiled, just barely visible?!

Xu Yu was floored. But he quickly composed himself, and mentally reviewing Chu Hang’s behavior over the past while, applying the sharp logical analysis skills of a law student, he arrived at a conclusion—

“Chu Hang, are you in love with someone?”

Chu Hang blinked, then instinctively pressed his lips together and denied it. “No.”

Xu Yu was a million percent unconvinced. “But this is exactly the kind of thing that happens when someone falls in love — suddenly smiling for no reason, frowning for no reason, suddenly having all these expressions out of nowhere, like someone unlocked your emotions overnight. Are you hiding something from me?”

Chu Hang paused, but quickly regained his composure and calmly turned the question back around: “That’s what I should be asking you. You’ve never liked flowers before — why is your jacket covered in lily perfume today? Are you hiding something from me? Who’d you give flowers to?”

“…”

Xu Yu, with the smooth, practiced ease of someone well-versed in deflection, glanced up at the storm outside. “Let’s not get into all that right now — looks like the rain’s letting up a bit. Let’s hurry back to campus.”

Chu Hang didn’t push back, simply opened his umbrella and stepped into the rain. Xu Yu quickly darted over, trying to duck under it with him, only to be shoved firmly back out by Chu Hang, who glanced at the umbrella in Xu Yu’s own hand. “Didn’t you bring your own umbrella?”

Xu Yu grinned. “Yours is huge, and you’re taller than me anyway — what’s the harm in me sharing?”

“No.” Chu Hang said, unmoved. “You smell like lilies. I don’t like it. Walk on your own.”

Standing beside Chu Hang, Tan Yin shot Xu Yu a sympathetic glance — right as a tricycle rolled past in front of them, blasting a well-worn pop song from a loudspeaker mounted on it, the lyrics touching on the scent of someone else’s perfume clinging to a lover’s clothes.

“…”

Xu Yu looked wronged, Chu Hang stayed expressionless, and Tan Yin, with absolutely no regard for decorum, burst out laughing.

In the end, no matter what had gone on between them, Xu Yu and Chu Hang parted ways amicably, each heading back to campus under their own umbrella, while Tan Yin continued to hide under Chu Hang’s the rest of the way home.

Fortunately, not long after they got back to campus, the storm finally began to ease. Tan Yin hurried to part ways with Chu Hang, wanting to find an empty classroom to hide in — but just as she turned, Chu Hang happened to turn too, and she couldn’t dodge in time, nearly bumping noses with him. Thrown off balance by her clumsy footwork, she felt herself starting to fall—

Luckily, Chu Hang’s long umbrella swept lightly under her, catching her against her waist just enough for her to steady herself. But her current position looked exactly as if Chu Hang had caught her in his arms with the umbrella — if he moved even slightly closer, if he shifted just a bit more, he’d be touching her directly…

Caught in a tangle of nervousness, anxiety, and some indescribable fluttering feeling, Tan Yin stayed frozen in that position, quietly aware of her own frantically pounding heart, her whole face burning. And as if sensing something, Chu Hang turned to Xu Yu with perfect composure and asked—

“Do you smell lemon?”

Uh-oh.

Alarm bells rang in Tan Yin’s head. She suddenly remembered — the outfit she’d worn today had been sitting folded in her closet next to a little lemon-scented sachet Jiang Yilu had given her.

Xu Yu, naturally, looked baffled. “No, I don’t smell anything.”

But Chu Hang leaned in closer to her instead, his body drawing nearer, close enough that even their breathing felt within reach. Tan Yin could clearly feel the warmth of his breath — that unmistakable, overwhelming presence unique to a young man, that sense of vigorous, youthful energy.

Tan Yin felt like her heart might actually leap out of her chest. Not even when her father had caught her ranking dead last out of fifty-three students had she ever felt this nervous. She felt like a tiny planet completely caught in Chu Hang’s gravitational pull, her entire inner universe undergoing what felt like a full-blown galactic collision — order, reason, orbit, all of it collapsing at once, leaving nothing but chaos, complexity, and tangled confusion. And worse still, Tan Yin found herself sinking into that chaotic, directionless swirl of emotion, thinking that the feeling wasn’t actually all that bad.

She was probably suffering some kind of organic damage from being invisible too long.

Just as Tan Yin thought she might genuinely need the fire department to come cool her down, Chu Hang finally gave up his investigation into the source of the lemon scent.

“Oh, must’ve been my mistake.” His voice was calm and unhurried. He drew the umbrella away, his body stepping back from where it had pinned her in place — but just before he left, the corner of his mouth curved slightly, and, as if talking to himself, he murmured softly, “I like the smell of lemons.”

A crash echoed through her. Tan Yin felt the wall she’d only just barely managed to build around her racing heart come tumbling down in an instant, her heartbeat now completely unlike any normal human rhythm. Chu Hang’s voice had been soft, but every syllable had come slow and deliberate, as if leaving behind an aftertaste on purpose. Such a simple sentence, and yet it left Tan Yin stumbling backward several steps, utterly unable to control herself. If not for that ridiculously oversized umbrella of his, she might have wondered if she’d caught a fever standing in the storm. For a moment, she felt lightheaded, as if walking on cotton — except, on closer thought, it wasn’t cotton at all, but sweet, fluffy cotton candy, carrying a soft, cloying sweetness.

Chu Hang had already turned back to Xu Yu, continuing whatever conversation they’d been having, but Tan Yin could no longer hear a word of it. She practically fled the scene.

Before long, the storm — already tapering off — finally stopped entirely, and Tan Yin found herself back to normal in an empty classroom. Normally, the moment a storm ended, cooped-up Tan Yin would rush out immediately to treat herself to a good meal and calm down. But today she was strangely subdued instead, leaning alone against the classroom wall, forcing herself to breathe evenly, until the sound of voices in the hallway signaled other students filing in — only then did she get up and leave the building.

Her mind was a complete tangled mess, utterly incapable of coherent thought. She figured she should go get some sugar and try to clear her head.

Food really was the best distraction. Tan Yin ate while deliberately avoiding thinking about her earlier moment of weirdness, and once she’d eaten and drunk her fill, she headed back to the dorm. To her surprise, Jiang Yilu wasn’t watching American dramas or browsing online shopping — instead, she sat completely absorbed in her phone, occasionally letting out a soft laugh, so engrossed she didn’t even notice Tan Yin come in.

Curious, Tan Yin asked, “What are you looking at?”

Hearing her voice, Jiang Yilu instinctively put her phone away, smoothing her hair with a slightly awkward gesture. “Nothing, just browsing some funny posts online.”

Tan Yin didn’t think much of it. She absentmindedly unwrapped a piece of candy and suddenly remembered something. “Oh, right, I ran into Xu Yu while I was invisible earlier. I know you told me not to bother tailing him for dirt anymore since you were worried about me, but I happened to see him anyway — he looked pretty suspicious today, smelled like lily flowers, all secretive. Speaking of lilies, actually I’m—achoo!”

Before Tan Yin could even finish saying “allergic,” she let out a violent sneeze, then several more in quick succession. She got up, sniffing around, and traced it faintly to the balcony, where a scent of lily perfume was drifting in.

She pushed open the balcony door, and sure enough, tucked among the succulent pots, found a vase overflowing with fresh, blooming lilies…

Tan Yin turned and gave Jiang Yilu a long look, then, staring at the vase of lilies, closed the door to block out the smell before striking an interrogator’s pose. “Confess honestly and we’ll go easy on you — come on, out with the truth.”

“…”

Tan Yin stared her down. “You know I can turn invisible. If you don’t tell me, I’ll find out eventually anyway.”

“…”

Under Tan Yin’s unrelenting gaze, Jiang Yilu finally caved. “This… these lilies were a gift from Xu Yu today.”

Tan Yin was utterly baffled. “Wait, weren’t you two sworn enemies last I checked? Since when did you two get close enough for him to be giving you flowers? Did I lose my mind, or did I miss some major development? Are you two a thing now?”

Jiang Yilu’s face flushed slightly, and she looked away, stammering through an explanation. “No, we just… buried the hatchet. We’re basically just friends now.”

Tan Yin: ???

Jiang Yilu cleared her throat. “So, remember that time Zhu Kangmei kept me after class? That man was being so bizarre, giving me this whole lecture out of nowhere, telling me not to keep staring at him, to widen my horizons, saying age-gap relationships have no future, that I should date younger guys instead, and going on and on praising Xu Yu — and I was just, what??? He kept beating around the bush, and eventually I realized he actually thought I had feelings for him?!” Jiang Yilu’s voice rose indignantly at this point. “The only thing I’ve ever had feelings for regarding him is his quiz answer key, thank you very much! But he didn’t believe me, kept me there rambling for another hour before he finally let me go.”

“So right when I stepped out of the building, I saw Xu Yu. Wasn’t he supposed to be playing basketball around then? But he was walking so slowly, moving so strangely, that I figured something was wrong or he had some secret going on, so without thinking too much, I followed him.”

Tan Yin filled in the gap: “That was the day he got fouled and hurt his ankle during the game, so he must’ve been heading to the campus clinic.”

Jiang Yilu blinked. “Right, but I had no idea at the time. I followed him, and a few steps in, I felt dizzy and lost control of myself — before I knew it, I’d already collapsed on the ground. It was raining, the ground was wet and filthy, and I tried to get up but everything went black and I had no strength left at all.”

Concerned, Tan Yin asked, “What happened to you? How’d you just faint like that? Are you okay?”

“Turned out later it was low blood sugar,” Jiang Yilu said, indignant. “All because Zhu Kangmei kept me there rambling for so long — I never even got lunch. I was starving out of my mind.”

Though Jiang Yilu seemed to be glossing over things, Tan Yin quickly caught the detail buried in her account. “So basically, you passed out right next to Xu Yu? Was he the one who took you to the clinic in the end?”

At this, Jiang Yilu did look a bit embarrassed. “Mm… I figured he’d just walk right past me. But instead, he came over without a word, crouched down, told me to climb onto his back, and carried me all the way to the clinic. After the doctor checked me over and I’d had some sugar water and started feeling better, he went to get his own ankle looked at — that’s when I realized how badly he’d actually hurt it. Maybe carrying me had made it worse…”

“So you two have basically buried the hatchet and are living happily ever after now?”

“What do you mean ‘happily ever after’? Tan Yin, did a gym teacher teach you Chinese? That phrase is about marriage alliances between states!” But right after correcting her, Jiang Yilu’s tone shifted abruptly, her face turning a little red, her voice growing shy and bashful. “But, you know, I’ve actually started thinking Xu Yu’s not bad.”

Tan Yin: ???

Friend, you sure are a fickle woman — wasn’t it not long ago you were shrieking about wanting to murder Xu Yu? And now suddenly he’s “not bad”?

Jiang Yilu smiled shyly. “As for the lilies — a few days ago I bought a bottle of perfume, and it turned out to be a fake, the lily scent smelled totally artificial and cheap. I complained about it a bit on my social media, and then today Xu Yu said he happened to see a kid outside selling lilies, looking pretty pitiful in the rain, saying her parents wouldn’t let her go home until she’d sold them all — so he bought some and gave them to me, saying he wanted me to smell a real, natural lily scent for once.” She then added, “But we’re just friendly with each other for now, not officially dating or anything — he’s got plenty of girls fluttering around him anyway…”

That first part had sounded normal enough, but that last bit — what was with that sour undertone?! And if you two weren’t even dating, why get jealous over the fact that a single guy has admirers, Jiang Yilu?! Wake up!

Amid her disbelief, Tan Yin couldn’t resist adding, “But didn’t you say you hated guys who studied humanities? That they weren’t manly enough?”

Jiang Yilu laughed. “You can’t be that absolute about things, and you definitely shouldn’t discriminate against humanities majors — that’s just painting with too broad a brush. You’ve got to judge people individually. Think about it — Xu Yu’s got a great build, he’s on the school basketball team, so even though he’s a humanities major, he’s not some bookish type who reeks of stale academia. He’s athletic, has that manly charm, and he’s good-looking too — the sunny, energetic type.”

Tan Yin, utterly baffled, said, “Wait, wasn’t it just recently you were calling him flighty and superficial?”

“How is that flighty?” Jiang Yilu shot her a look and corrected herself. “Now that I think about it more carefully, Xu Yu’s personality is actually — lively, cheerful, witty, great sense of humor. And because he’s a law student, he’s got a real gift for words — you see how easily he makes friends, how conversations with him never go dry. At first that can easily come across as flighty, but the longer you’re around him, the more you realize there’s real substance to what he says…”

“…”

Fine… this was probably what people meant by “love makes you see through rose-colored glasses.”

“You’ve fallen for Xu Yu, haven’t you.”

Jiang Yilu stayed quiet, which was as good as a confession.

Tan Yin still couldn’t quite wrap her head around it. “Miss subject-of-interest, may I interview you about your emotional journey here? How exactly did you go from cursing Xu Yu out one moment to falling for him the next?”

“Maybe hate really is just love in disguise — before I even realized it, I was already drawn to him?”

“Then how did you know for sure you actually liked Xu Yu, and it wasn’t just some one-sided illusion on your part?”

Jiang Yilu adopted the air of someone speaking from experience. “There’s no mistaking it — you’ve never dated, but I have. That sudden, unmistakable flutter of the heart — when I was on his back, and he said in that low, steady voice, ‘just hold on a little longer,’ that was the exact moment my heart just started racing, adrenaline surging, my face and ears burning up…”

Jiang Yilu glanced at Tan Yin’s blank, stunned expression, and gave her a look of pity. “Never mind, you wouldn’t get it. You’re only chasing Chu Hang for fun, I can tell — you’ve never actually fallen for anyone for real.”

“…”

Jiang Yilu was clearly deep in her own world by now, looking a little shy. “Later, in the clinic, watching Xu Yu stand there so seriously while I drank the sugar water, I just thought, this guy’s actually really great. The more I looked at him, the more I liked what I saw. Being around him suddenly made me nervous, even a little self-conscious — I’d just collapsed on the ground, my clothes soaked in rainwater and mud, feeling so embarrassed, wishing he hadn’t seen me like that. I’ve had plenty of moments where I looked my best — why did it have to be this moment he saw me in…”

But Tan Yin had stopped listening to the rest of what Jiang Yilu said. Racing heart, blushing, nervousness at seeing him, wanting him to see her at her best…

Even as she tried to suppress it, an image of Chu Hang’s eyes flashed unbidden across her mind — that pair of eyes, so beautiful and so cold, and every single moment of racing heartbeat, blushing, nervousness, and awkwardness Tan Yin had felt lately all traced back to the owner of those eyes.

If before, Tan Yin could still tell herself she’d moved on from Chu Hang ages ago, then after that one-sided eye contact on the basketball court, the wall-pin in the library, and that close-up moment of him breathing her in just now — she had to admit it. Even after everything, even after supposedly being struck by lightning and rolling down a mountain, she was, damn it, still exactly the same as ever when it came to Chu Hang.

No matter how she’d tried to dodge and avoid it all this time, in the end, there was no escaping it after all.