Ning Sui sat at the outermost edge of the sofa, still in the posture of looking down at her phone, yet her ears had already registered the warmth that drifted her way with remarkable speed.

Her heart gave a fierce little lurch. She glanced almost involuntarily toward the other side — and she could already see the gossip-laden gazes that Liu Chang and Qu Handong were lobbing from across the room.

“……”

Their roommates were right there — how could this person be so blatantly obvious?!

Their table had roughly ten people seated in a small circle. Those who hadn’t managed to claim sofa seats had grabbed small chairs and were sitting with their backs to the screen on the outer edge. What Xie Yichen had just said was neither too loud nor too soft; the music was playing loudly, and aside from those immediately around Ning Sui, no one had heard it.

But it had clearly already drawn the attention of some classmates. Two girls sitting beside Ning Sui were excitedly whispering to each other: “Oh my god, oh my god — isn’t that the gorgeous guy from earlier? He actually came over!”

Xie Yichen raised an eyebrow and, with unhurried ease, pointed to the empty spot beside Ning Sui. He was quite courteous about it: “May I sit here?”

Both girls’ eyes lit up with excitement — they were practically nodding their heads off — but his question hadn’t been directed at them, so they turned to look at Ning Sui with eager anticipation.

Ning Sui pressed her lips together slightly and replied with a calm “mm.”

The classmates seated on the sofa shifted and squeezed inward a little to make room for Xie Yichen. He gave a nod as thanks and settled down beside Ning Sui with easy composure.

A girl with double pigtails directly asked his name, his university, and his major. Xie Yichen, leaning back against the chair, gave brief answers. She said “oh” and then: “So for computer science — are you in the Yao Class or the regular track?”

In front of Ning Sui sat an empty drink cup. Xie Yichen reached for the large bottle of coconut juice on the table and, with eyes cast downward, refilled her cup. “Yao Class.”

The girl let out a “wow,” and with an air of curiosity said: “The Yao Class is really hard to get into, right? I heard it’s only for provincial top scorers and national academic competition team members.”

Xie Yichen finally looked up, lips curving with languid nonchalance: “That’s outsiders exaggerating. We have a second round of selection that the whole school can participate in.”

The girl’s mind was clearly wandering elsewhere: “Oh, oh, is that how it works.”

Zhong Lu was sitting beside Ning Sui and immediately buried her head to send her a WeChat message: 【Sui, is this gorgeous guy the one our club president mentioned from the school next door? You know him? 😏】

Sui Sui Sui: 【Mm.】

Lu: 【Then why didn’t you say anything earlier — that’s not very nice of you 🐶】

Sui Sui Sui: 【……I didn’t know the one the president mentioned was him.】

Zhong Lu didn’t press her on it — she was far more interested in the gossip: 【But he really is exceptional. One look and you can tell he’s the type who attracts bees and butterflies. I can see that Zhou Mengqi has quite a bit of interest in him.】

Zhou Mengqi was the girl with the double pigtails — someone they had only just met tonight. She was a friend the club president had invited from Qinghua University, and the people in their musical theater society didn’t know her very well.

Someone spoke up: “So should we do another round of the same game, or switch to something else?”

At that moment, from the other end of the room, someone holding a microphone called out: “Guo Ding’s ‘Water Buffalo Chronicles’ — we’re one short! Anyone who knows the song, come join!”

The room erupted in laughter — the song was actually called “Mercury Chronicles,” and everyone was losing it. At their table, a male student volunteered enthusiastically and grabbed the second microphone.

The familiar intro began to play, and everyone set down whatever they’d been doing as their attention was pulled toward the performance.

Captivated by your eyes / the Milky Way still traceable Slipping through the cracks of time It still truly / pulls at my orbit

The multicolored lights inside the room continued to shift in their rhythmic pattern. Ning Sui glanced at the screen and then finally asked: “How did you end up here?”

Xie Yichen sat beside her, idly toying with the glass in his hand. “My roommate knows your club president.”

Ning Sui nodded. She swept her gaze over the mix of male and female students around the table — women made up perhaps sixty or seventy percent of the group. She pressed her lips together: “Mm, so you really do have that much free time. Someone invites you somewhere and you just go.”

“My roommate said this was the Jingda Musical Theater Society gathering.”

“……”

Those deep, dark eyes were clearly painted with the colors of light. Ning Sui’s heart gave a somewhat embarrassing little flutter. So he had known she was here — the moment he walked in, he’d been looking for her.

The two male students holding the microphones had already launched into a soul-shredding rendition of “how much longer before I can find a way into your heart,” and everyone was humming along to the chorus.

Ning Sui grabbed a random topic and leaned slightly closer to him, keeping her voice steady: “I saw you and Zhang Yuge went to Shanying this afternoon?”

“Mm.”

Xie Yichen picked up a fork and stabbed a piece of diced apple, then — noticing she seemed a bit interested — helpfully supplied the context: “My dad found out about the investment I made on my cousin’s behalf. He was pretty angry about it.”

Ning Sui didn’t quite follow the connection and blinked. “So?”

“So I assured him again and again that I’d personally absorb any losses, and in the end my dad had me sign an agreement — now I owe him a few million.” Xie Yichen shrugged with a devil-may-care air. “Then I went to check on my cousin’s company. I suppose it’s time I formally get involved.”

Ning Sui asked: “Contributing through technical expertise?”

Xie Yichen: “Right. I’ve already studied the company’s operational model fairly in-depth. Now I’m just looking to see whether the underlying algorithms can be improved upon anywhere.”

Ning Sui looked at him. “You’re pretty impressive, then.”

Xie Yichen raised an eyebrow, completely unguarded: “Just now figuring that out?”

“……”

She paused, then took a sip of coconut juice. “What time do you normally go to sleep?”

“Why?”

“No particular reason, just asking.”

Xie Yichen glanced at her with downcast eyes. “Depends — on the early side, midnight or one; on the late side, two or three.”

That’s roughly the same as her, Ning Sui thought. She said: “I don’t believe it. You couldn’t possibly have time for so many activities.”

“What activities have I been in?”

He really had the nerve to ask. Hardly a day went by without some photo being posted by someone or another, and he always seemed to appear. Ning Sui couldn’t help herself — she reached over and tugged at a tassel dangling from the sofa. “Go check your Moments and then say that.”

Xie Yichen met her eyes, a faint glimmer of amusement lurking in the depths of his gaze. He opened his phone and scrolled for a while before finally looking up, his voice low and patient as he explained: “It’s just that this month has been unusually busy. Before this, I had no time at all — and as for social events, this is literally the only one I’ve attended.”

Ning Sui’s lashes fluttered slightly. “Oh.”

The energy at the table was lively. They’d managed to yell out a song as emotionally charged as “Mercury Chronicles” with the spirit of sworn brothers taking an oath. Her gaze settled briefly on the reflective marble tabletop, and she spotted a dish of bright red, exceedingly tempting strawberries sitting across the way.

But that section was all male students — noisy and boisterous — and she couldn’t very well waltz over uninvited.

Her eyes had only lingered there for a few seconds before the low, crisp voice beside her reached her: “Want to eat the strawberries?”

Ning Sui hesitated and answered with a soft “mm.”

“Wait here.” Xie Yichen replied concisely, stood up, and headed in that direction.

Ning Sui’s gaze followed his retreating figure. She watched as he stood over there and said something to a few of his roommates; the expressions on their faces were clearly teasing smiles, though none of them looked her way.

Xie Yichen divided the strawberries using a plate and brought back half, setting them down in front of her. He also skewered one with a plastic fork and held it out to her, watching her as he said: “Eat.”

Ning Sui pressed her lips together, took the fruit, and put it in her mouth.

Sweet and a little cold. A refreshing wave of fruity fragrance.

“Those — they’re pretty sweet,” she said, head lowered, glancing around in mild confusion. “I think I can’t find my phone. Could you call my number?”

Xie Yichen agreed with a soft “mm.”

Fortunately, Ning Sui had the habit of keeping her ringer volume fairly loud; otherwise, in an environment this noisy, it would have been nearly impossible to hear.

She felt a series of vibrations coming from the gap in the leather seat behind her, reached back to check, and fished out her phone. Xie Yichen was close, and both their gazes naturally fell on the caller ID displayed on the screen.

He paused: “Oreo?”

Ning Sui suddenly realized the situation and rapidly pressed the screen dark.

Save her! She couldn’t even remember when she’d changed it — at the time, she’d thought this contact was rarely used, so no one else would ever see it. Who could have possibly anticipated a moment like this? Even she had almost forgotten!

Xie Yichen, looking as though he’d discovered some secret, narrowed his eyes halfway, his expression hovering between amusement and something else. “You saved me in your contacts as Oreo? Why?”

Ning Sui insisted with wide eyes: “I didn’t.”

Xie Yichen: “I saw it.”

Ning Sui: “……You didn’t see it.”

Xie Yichen propped his arm on the seat and stared at her with an expression full of layered meaning, straight and unblinking. “What exactly does it mean?”

Ning Sui’s mind spun at full speed. With her outward composure intact, she said: “Why don’t you guess.”

Xie Yichen cast his eyes downward.

His gaze was dark and unreadable. He bit out each word deliberately: “Saying I’m two-faced?”

This person’s expression was a little dangerous. Ning Sui’s lashes flickered rapidly. She picked up a strawberry, took a bite, and said with sincere conviction: “No — I was complimenting you. Hard on the outside, soft on the inside.”

“……”

Whether he believed it or not, Ning Sui forced the topic in a new direction: “Do you not sing? Last time I saw your playlist, there were quite a few popular songs on it.”

Xie Yichen continued watching her with that deep, subtle gaze — right up until he had nearly made Ning Sui’s conscience begin to waver — then he looked lazily toward the large screen in the center of the room. “No, I’ll pass.”

“Why? You don’t enjoy it?”

“This is your club president’s birthday party, after all.” He replied with his usual careless ease. “Stealing someone else’s spotlight wouldn’t be great.”

“……”

At that moment, a group chat in a certain Qinghua University dormitory had absolutely lost its mind.

Qu Handong: 【Holy— for the first time in my life I’m watching A’Chen actually charge toward a girl!!】

Liu Chang: 【wok, is this the one from the basketball court that time — that one girl, really beautiful, really fair??】

Qu Handong: 【@Shi Fu, get over here and feast on this gossip!】

Shi Fu: 【No need to tag me, I have a front-row seat 耐人尋味.jpg】

Liu Chang: 【This is a godlike gossip situation, I am so here for it】

Qu Handong: 【!!! I’m stunned. I thought our bro was going for the cold, aloof, untouchable high mountain flower image — but this……】

Qu Handong: 【What is even happening right now, hurry up and analyze!!】

Qu Handong: 【Everyone else is singing and those two are just sitting there chatting together! Holy crap — and he’s literally feeding her little strawberries!!】

The others were all seated to the left. The music was too loud for easy conversation, so they were firing messages back and forth in the group chat, brimming with excitement.

After a moment, Liu Chang saw that Xie Yichen had tagged him and replied with a line whose emotional tone was difficult to read: 【@Liu Chang, you really do pay close attention.】

Qu Handong: 【!!! No need to analyze anymore……】

Qu Handong: 【Chang, you’re done for.】

Shi Fu: 【🐶】

Liu Chang: 【tears streaming down face.jpg】

Liu Chang: 【I’m cooked. I’m shutting up now.】

When “Mercury Chronicles” ended, the people seated at the table on the right gradually drifted back to their seats and announced they were done with dice games — they wanted to play Truth or Dare instead.

The room erupted in enthusiastic agreement. The club president drifted over holding a cocktail, easing himself into an empty spot across from Xie Yichen.

At that moment, the door on the near side swung open, and Wu Zixiao appeared in the doorway, breathless.

His eyes immediately swept the room as though searching for someone. When he spotted Ning Sui, his shoulders visibly relaxed. He hesitated briefly, then made a beeline for the club president and explained: “My department just got out of class — Happy Birthday, Brother Hao!”

The president smiled warmly and accepted the gift: “Thanks — grab any seat.”

Ning Sui’s side was already full. Wu Zixiao looked around uncertainly and settled into a spot diagonally across the table. His interest in Ning Sui was no secret within the society, and an array of knowing expressions immediately rippled across the room — though no one said it aloud. They simply watched the drama unfold in quiet satisfaction.

“Alright, let’s get started.” The club president pulled up a Truth or Dare mini-program on his phone, then rummaged in some forgotten corner of the table for a spinner. He set it down in the center.

On the table between them sat two large bottles of Sprite and Coke, nearly finished. The president said: “If anyone wants a drink, let’s just finish these off.”

Zhou Mengqi stood up helpfully and began pouring for everyone. When she reached Xie Yichen, she asked in a soft, delicate voice: “Sprite or Coke?”

Xie Yichen gestured at his already full glass of water, expression unchanged: “Water’s fine for me — thank you.”

Zhou Mengqi’s expression flickered for a beat or two, then she smiled seamlessly and said “sure,” moving on to pour for others.

Everyone settled into their seats. The president began spinning the dial — it wobbled and swayed before landing on Zhong Lu.

“Oh!” Whatever the outcome, it was always right to make noise. “Truth or dare?”

Zhong Lu said: “Truth, I guess.”

The mini-program automatically generated a question. As soon as the club president saw the screen, he grinned slyly: “When did you have your first kiss?”

The question had arrived at an uncannily perfect moment. Zhong Lu cleared her throat: “A couple days ago.”

It was another member of the society — her stage partner for the production. What had started as exchanged glances had gradually evolved, both parties somewhat using the excuse of rehearsing romantic scenes to let the performance become a little too real.

Those in the know immediately fixed razor-sharp, gleeful looks on the parties in question. When the two people’s eyes met across the room, the conspiratorial undercurrent was unmistakable, and their peers couldn’t help but cheer: “Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!”

Those who hadn’t known were suddenly scrambling, urgently asking the person next to them whether they’d missed something.

Of course Zhong Lu didn’t actually kiss anyone in public — she deployed her silver tongue to laugh the whole thing off and redirect the conversation. The second round landed on a male student who chose dare: he had to do five push-ups with a female student on his back, and both were so flustered with embarrassment that the whole room erupted in rapturous applause.

Ning Sui had actually been wondering what she’d do if she got drawn for one of the more difficult prompts. But whether it was luck or coincidence, she and Xie Yichen were never landed on — and after a while, her attention quietly drifted. Her gaze slid past her empty cup and settled on Xie Yichen’s right hand resting casually on the table.

His palm was broad with clearly defined lines of muscle and sinew — full of strength — beautiful in the way of something naturally carved into a work of art.

While she was quietly daydreaming, Xie Yichen suddenly leaned close and asked: “What would you like to drink?”

His breath was low and unhurried, his voice carrying a warmth that was almost — almost — intimate. The tips of Ning Sui’s fingers curled involuntarily again.

She hadn’t even spoken yet when she realized that the people around them seemed to all be watching.

Just a moment ago — some unknown number of rounds back — the spinner had landed on Zhou Mengqi. She had chosen truth.

“If you had to confess to someone here, who would it be?”

Zhou Mengqi thought for a moment. Her gaze drifted, almost without her meaning it, toward Xie Yichen, and she blinked. She hadn’t said a word — but silence can speak louder than words, and the whole room had seen it perfectly clearly.

Ning Sui had been talking with Xie Yichen this whole time and Zhou Mengqi hadn’t found a window to interject. She cared not at all whether the two of them were a couple — and from the looks of things, they probably weren’t, just something ambiguous. She simply found the man genuinely stunning and felt thoroughly interested in him.

The crowd started cheering again, though this time the energy was more varied and the undertones less simple. Other girls were mixed in among them, clearly harboring similar thoughts.

Zhou Mengqi laughed suddenly: “I should have chosen dare — I saw there were quite a few good prompts in there.”

The implication was obvious — she was suggesting she could have used the dare to engineer some physical contact. And her tone was distinctly wistful.

Ning Sui sat with her lashes lowered, pressing her lips together. Xie Yichen was right beside her, lounging in an easy posture, the faint cold and austere air around him drifting over along with the thin scent of alcohol.

He really does attract bees and butterflies, she thought.

Xie Yichen seemed to be watching her. Ning Sui quietly stabbed a strawberry, biting down on it as an excuse for the small, low sound that escaped her.

But she didn’t dare be too obvious about it. She kept her gaze composed and trained straight ahead, uncertain whether he’d even heard.

“……”

In the dim, hazy light, multicolored beams swept back and forth in arcs.

Ning Sui had assumed Xie Yichen would at least say something back to Zhou Mengqi — but he didn’t. He simply ignored the girl entirely and continued watching Ning Sui with a sideways, attentive look, his lips curling lazily as he asked: “The coconut juice is gone. Do you want some yogurt?”

The strawberry’s juice settled on the tip of her tongue. She gave a soft, muffled sound of assent.

Zhou Mengqi: “……”

Since she hadn’t actually said his name out loud, she had no real grounds to make a scene about it, and could only swallow her frustration in silence.

A few more rounds followed, each with its own high point, and the mood crested into something genuinely electric.

It was also the first time Ning Sui had realized this game could remain so fun no matter how many rounds you played — the questions being asked now were on an entirely different level from what they’d played in Yunnan.

The only thing was that Wu Zixiao’s gaze kept sweeping over her — a little too noticeably.

To avoid making eye contact with Wu Zixiao, Ning Sui would occasionally pretend to look down at her phone, or pretend to sip the yogurt Xie Yichen had just poured for her.

The background noise in the private room never let up — the enthusiastic singers among them had queued up a string of familiar pop songs, and the game at their end was going just as boisterously. A server came in carrying a tray of small snacks — duck tongues, onion rings, and the like. Wu Zixiao was the closest and quickly took them from the server.

He glanced across the table and pushed the tray forward: “Do you all want some?”

Though he said “you all,” it was obvious who the words were aimed at. Several pairs of meaningful eyes immediately locked on them.

Ning Sui said nothing. Zhong Lu, who knew her well enough to understand she genuinely disliked Wu Zixiao, smiled and stepped in: “Brother Wu, have you not noticed our club president has been eyeing those the whole time? Leave them on your side first.”

The president played along: “I want some! I want some!”

Wu Zixiao quickly slid the tray toward him: “Oh, oh, right.”

Everyone had assumed the food orders were all in by now, but a little while later, a server brought in another plate — sliced honey peaches and mango — and once again, Wu Zixiao intercepted it.

This time he was a bit bolder. He met Ning Sui’s gaze directly, a burning look in his eyes, and swallowed. “Ning Sui, should I put this plate on your side?”

All eyes converged. The first tray of snacks had been out of easy reach for the students on Ning Sui’s half of the table, and in theory, accepting this offer would have been the natural thing to do. But Ning Sui felt inexplicably self-conscious. She weighed her words: “That, um……”

At this point Wu Zixiao rubbed the back of his neck with a sheepish flush, adding: “I remember you have a bit of a sweet tooth.”

Ning Sui’s eyes stilled. Her lashes moved slightly. She hadn’t yet had a chance to reply when she heard a low, derisive sound from beside her.

“……”

She turned her head, and saw only that Xie Yichen’s face held no particular expression — he was simply looking at the half-plate of strawberries on the table, staring at it for a moment with an air of calm detachment. Then he looked up very plainly: “Sorry — I’m afraid there’s no room here.”