The bucket of popcorn in Lin Zhexia’s hands had barely reached the bottom by the time half the movie had passed.

Though Chi Yao’s gaze seemed to remain fixed on the big screen, it was as if he was constantly monitoring her. After she put down the popcorn, he curled his fingers and tapped on the armrest: “Finished eating?”

“…”

“Are you even watching the movie seriously,” Lin Zhexia wiped her hands with a wet tissue, “why is your mind full of…”

“Full of what?” he asked.

Her voice lowered with embarrassment: “Hand-holding.”

Chi Yao was quite frank about it. After waiting a while without Lin Zhexia taking the initiative to hold his hand, he extended his arm further to grab hers: “That’s not quite accurate.”

“?”

“My mind is filled with more than just hand-holding.”

“…”

Lin Zhexia’s fingers stiffened.

She wanted to cry “pervert,” but when the words reached her lips, she didn’t dare to say them.

On the big screen, the movie had reached its climax, with the protagonist’s team gradually beginning to turn the tables.

Lin Zhexia tried her best to ignore what Chi Yao had just said and continued to immerse herself in the movie plot.

Unfortunately, the person beside her didn’t seem to be watching the movie very attentively. The young man rested his chin on one hand while the other held hers, occasionally squeezing her knuckles to remind her of the fact that “they were holding hands.”

This resulted in Lin Zhexia being pulled out of the movie every time she had just become immersed: “…”

“I don’t want to hold hands with you anymore,” she said, unable to bear it any longer. “You’re affecting my movie-watching experience.”

Chi Yao showed absolutely no intention of letting go: “Do you watch movies with your hands?”

Lin Zhexia: “…”

Chi Yao: “Or am I covering your eyes?”

Neither was true.

But it was still very distracting.

Lin Zhexia couldn’t find a more formal reason, so she could only say: “Then don’t… don’t keep fidgeting.”

Just as she finished speaking, Chi Yao, as if bored with their current hand-holding position, slowly withdrew his fingers from between hers, then changed positions and gripped her hand firmly in his palm.

Lin Zhexia gave up.

She felt that she probably couldn’t reason with this person.

In the end, she didn’t understand what the movie was about at all, only catching bits and pieces of the story development. After the movie ended, she threw away the popcorn bucket and followed the crowd out.

The cinema itself was located inside a shopping mall, the largest mall in the university town.

She and Chi Yao walked to the entrance of the cinema, and Chi Yao asked what she wanted for dinner.

Lin Zhexia casually chose something, mainly because she and Chi Yao were standing at the cinema entrance where they were attracting quite a bit of attention, and she was eager to find a place to hide: “Let’s go to that restaurant across the way, the environment looks decent.”

After saying this, she added accusingly: “You’re a bit too eye-catching.”

Chi Yao: “?”

Lin Zhexia: “Many people are looking at you. Next time, when you go out with me, bring a mask.”

Chi Yao: “Do you think that’s appropriate?”

Lin Zhexia: “I think it would be fine.”

“But I think,” he said, dragging out the last syllable slightly, “…wearing a mask isn’t very convenient.”

Lin Zhexia vaguely felt this statement had some implication, but at first hearing, she couldn’t figure out what was wrong with it.

After all, wearing a mask is inconvenient.

It’s inconvenient when using facial recognition on your phone, and it’s also difficult to breathe.

The restaurant across the way required waiting for a table. The mall had a large flow of people, with students from so many nearby schools coming here to dine after evening classes, making it more bustling than other places.

Lin Zhexia wanted to memorize vocabulary to pass the time, but when she took out her phone, she found it was almost out of battery.

She had just put her phone back when Chi Yao handed his over: “The password is still the same, enter it yourself.”

Lin Zhexia took his phone, paused for a moment: “Oh.”

“But,” she said while entering the familiar password, “you don’t have the app I need on your phone…”

She had barely finished speaking.

The phone screen successfully unlocked.

The first app icon on the home screen was exactly the vocabulary memorization app she frequently used.

And not only was she surprised to see the vocabulary app.

She also saw the phone’s wallpaper.

It was her photo. The “landscape photo” Chi Yao had taken of her when she turned eighteen, crouching beside a hydrangea.

Lin Zhexia: “So you did photograph me—You said it was a landscape photo at the time, but I’m clearly in it.”

Chi Yao casually replied: “You got caught in the frame by accident. If you’re not happy about it, you can edit yourself out.”

Lin Zhexia: “…”

This person was quite knowledgeable about beauty apps.

Not only did he know about photo editing, but also about cutting parts out of images.

Lin Zhexia carefully examined her profile in the photo. More than being captured by Chi Yao, she was concerned about whether he had taken an unflattering photo of her.

After all, no one wants to appear as an “ugly photo” on the phone wallpaper of the person they like.

“Let me see how you photographed me,” she said. “If it doesn’t look good, I’ll cut myself out.”

But surprisingly, Chi Yao’s photography skills were quite good.

The photo even looked better than some she had posted on her social media.

After a while, Chi Yao asked: “How does it look?”

Lin Zhexia looked away: “It’s okay, I’ll reluctantly allow you to keep me in the frame.”

“But why do you have this app?” she asked before opening the vocabulary app. “Your major doesn’t study this.”

As she spoke, a group of people tried to squeeze past them from the side, crossing through the queue.

Chi Yao grabbed her arm and pulled her toward himself, saying: “My girlfriend’s major studies this.”

“…”

The number of people queuing in front had decreased.

When Lin Zhexia followed the server inside to find seats, she wondered if this person was really in his first relationship.

Otherwise, how could he be… so skilled?

With this question in mind, she kept observing Chi Yao’s every move during dinner.

She discovered that Chi Yao was indeed very skilled.

Skillfully pushing the dishes she liked in front of her, and when he noticed she wasn’t eating much, asking if she didn’t find the food tasty.

“No,” she shook her head, her gaze falling on the black elastic band on his wrist, and said, “It’s quite good.”

“Not much appetite?”

“My appetite is fine too.”

She added, “Stop asking, it’s not because of the food anyway.”

After a while, Lin Zhexia couldn’t resist probing indirectly, using a casual tone to test him: “During your senior year of high school, besides taking care of Aunt Bai, what else did you do?”

Chi Yao replied in a tone that suggested he was answering an idiotic question: “Studied.”

“…”

“Of course I know you were studying,” Lin Zhexia pressed, “anything else?”

Chi Yao: “Eating, sleeping, breathing.”

“…”

“Besides those.”

Lin Zhexia clarified the topic, “You made a pinky promise with me back then. When you were in Beijing, you didn’t secretly date anyone behind my back, did you?”

Chi Yao tugged at his lip: “Do you think I have forty-eight hours in a day to spare time for dating?”

Lin Zhexia: “Who knows, maybe you found time despite being busy.”

Otherwise, how could he be so professional when dating her?

She hadn’t even thought of downloading his major’s materials on her phone in advance, then finding an unexpected opportunity to move him.

That’s too much of a calculated move.

The kind of strategy you wouldn’t think of without having dated several times before.

Chi Yao asked her in return: “You think I dated someone?”

Lin Zhexia nodded slowly while eating: “It’s not impossible.”

“I was planning to hide it from you,” he put down his chopsticks, raised his eyes to look at her, and sighed lightly, “didn’t expect you to find out. So I’ll be honest, I actually dated over a hundred people in my senior year.”

Lin Zhexia calculated seriously: “In a total of 365 days, you averaged changing girlfriends every three days?”

Chi Yao was both amused and annoyed by her counting on her fingers: “Lin Zhexia.”

“You believed that? What is your brain made of?”

“…”

Only then did she realize that Chi Yao had been joking completely.

“You can’t blame me,” she muttered to herself, “with that face of yours, changing every three days isn’t impossible.”

Chi Yao didn’t hear what she was mumbling to herself.

He just set aside his teasing and joking attitude, and looked at her seriously: “I’ve never dated before.”

“You’re the first.”

The last dish served at this meal was a dessert.

“Lemon panna cotta,” the server said while serving, “please enjoy.”

Chi Yao didn’t like sweet things, so the dessert all went into Lin Zhexia’s stomach.

Midway through, the phone beside Lin Zhexia vibrated twice.

She was about to check it when she remembered it was Chi Yao’s phone: “Someone messaged you.”

Chi Yao didn’t seem concerned: “See who it is.”

Lin Zhexia entered the password to unlock: “He Yang.”

Hearing this name, Chi Yao said, “Don’t bother with him.”

Lin Zhexia was too full to think clearly, and obediently typed a reply to the chat: Chi Yao says to ignore you.

He Yang: …………

Lin Zhexia: …Um, sorry, can you pretend you didn’t see that? Let me retract it.

Just as she was wondering how to explain the current situation, He Yang responded quickly: Xia-bro?

Lin Zhexia: Yeah, it’s me.

Lin Zhexia: How did you guess so quickly?

He Yang: Hehe

It felt strange to be messaging with Chi Yao’s cat avatar. She typed a clarification: Anyway, those were his words, I’m just relaying them. If you want to hold a grudge, hold it against him.

He Yang: Speechless.

He Yang: Want to delete a friend.

He Yang most likely guessed that the two were together, and in the intimate situation where one was using the other’s phone.

But his current role was that of an innocent childhood friend who didn’t know what was going on, so he casually asked another question: Why are you two together? Not inviting me along.

Lin Zhexia didn’t know how to respond.

Logically speaking, since she and Chi Yao were dating now, she could openly tell him, “We’re together.”

But perhaps because the person she was talking to was He Yang, the He Yang who had grown up with her and Chi Yao.

The relationship was too close, making it hard to know how to bring it up.

If she said she and Chi Yao were together, it would probably shock him.

Lin Zhexia hadn’t decided exactly how to say it, but her fingers moved faster than her brain, ambiguously replying: Just having dinner together, we’ll treat you next time.

He Yang replied: Alright, I’ll remember this meal. And I’ll remember today’s grudge too.

“I told you to ignore him.” Chi Yao saw her chatting for a while and asked, “What are you talking about with him?”

Lin Zhexia finished replying and turned off the screen: “Nothing much, just him asking if we’re together, and I said we’re together having dinner.”

After paying the bill, the two headed back the way they came.

To reach the elevator, they needed to turn a corner and pass through a long corridor. At the end of the corridor was a half-closed door—an emergency exit.

Lin Zhexia vaguely felt this layout was familiar.

But she couldn’t quite place exactly what was familiar about it.

Maybe many places were arranged like this, such as shopping malls or hotels.

Many people were waiting for the elevator. Lin Zhexia remembered something she had forgotten to tell him, so she tugged at Chi Yao’s hand: “Bend down a bit, I have something to tell you.”

Chi Yao didn’t understand why.

But he still bent down, leaning toward her.

Lin Zhexia stood on her tiptoes, leaned close to his ear, and quickly said: “You’re also the first.”

…

First boyfriend.

First time dating.

Also, from the time when she didn’t yet understand what it meant to like someone, he was the first person she fell for.

Chi Yao clearly hadn’t expected there would be a follow-up to their earlier dining table conversation, nor had he expected that when she asked him to bend down, it was to tell him this.

After a moment of surprise, his footsteps stopped, no longer moving forward.

Lin Zhexia was about to ask, “Why aren’t we walking?” when in the next second, she was involuntarily pulled by him into the emergency exit beside them—

People outside were still waiting for the elevator, and many mixed sounds came through the half-closed door of the emergency exit.

Outside, people were coming and going.

Her back was against the wall, her entire body pressed against his chest, separated from the crowd outside by just a door.

Chi Yao’s voice was very close to her. He lowered his voice, carrying a certain bewitching quality: “…Do you know what things would be inconvenient to do while wearing a mask?”

Lin Zhexia’s mind went blank for a moment.

Then all her thoughts pointed to the only answer.

And then, she began to regret.

—She should have brought gum.

She belatedly realized that her current position and posture with Chi Yao were very similar to when she had pulled him into an emergency exit in Haicheng City during their sophomore year of high school to give him a lucky charm.

Chi Yao lowered his head, leaning toward her. The young man’s neck bent down as if in submission, his throat moving slightly. As he came closer, a familiar scent of laundry detergent that seemed etched in her memory also drifted over.

“Want to try?” his voice, incredibly intimate, disappeared between her lips, “…kissing your boyfriend?”

Chi Yao’s kiss was much like the person himself.

It imposed before it descended, but became very gentle at the moment of actual contact.

His lips carefully touched hers.

Lin Zhexia’s heart skipped a beat, not knowing how to react, until Chi Yao reminded her: “Close your eyes.”

She closed her eyes.

All senses were amplified, and the sounds outside the emergency exit gradually disappeared.

All that remained was the warm sensation from the other’s lips, and halfway through the kiss, the other’s increasingly bold, gentle biting.

Like marking his territory, he delicately ground against her lips. Occasionally, he would gently bite down, then quickly release.

Fortunately, the last dish earlier had been a dessert.

The taste of lemon panna cotta in Lin Zhexia’s mouth was gradually taken away by him.

“I tasted it,” Chi Yao said when he released her.

Lin Zhexia opened her eyes: “…What?”

Chi Yao raised his hand, his fingertip pressing against her reddened lips, wiping them in a very intimate manner: “That dessert from earlier.”