Yan Lie was clearly thrown — or rather, the weight of an undeserved accusation had him momentarily at a loss. After a brief pause, the messages began tumbling out one after another. You could picture it from the speed alone: him sitting there holding his phone, fingers flying furiously across the screen.

Lielie With a Fierce Name: I trust that adults have already learned to distinguish what a rumor is, especially someone as smart as our Zhuozhuo! [Sharp-eyed]

Lielie With a Fierce Name: And I only checked in yesterday — we’ve only been dating for a month and a half. [Pitifully pleading]

Lielie With a Fierce Name: WHY?! [Extremely fierce]

The emotional swings in his stickers were wild.

This was Yan Lie’s first earth-shattering question to the universe about university life.

University really is a dazzling, complicated world.

Little Sun: Joking.

Little Sun: [Little panda with hand raised]

Lielie With a Fierce Name: When a little panda raises its hand, it usually means it’s about to hit someone…

Fang Zhuo sent him a picture of a little bear clutching its head with a dazed expression, then directly screenshotted the earlier exchange about the uniform and showed it to Yu Qingjiang as proof that it had been an accident.

Yu Qingjiang scanned the few lines on screen. She couldn’t say for certain whether the person in question was or wasn’t a bad guy, but she could say with confidence that he was someone who had a very smooth way with words and a practiced hand at this sort of thing. Either he was naturally gifted or he had plenty of experience. In contrast, Fang Zhuo seemed almost painfully guileless — she told him everything and believed everything he said.

Yu Qingjiang looked away, wanting to advise this girl to keep her guard up no matter what, so she didn’t get taken in.

But then she thought about how Fang Zhuo had shared the chat history with her just now — she probably wouldn’t appreciate being told. So Yu Qingjiang swallowed her words and only asked: “Is your boyfriend good-looking?”

Fang Zhuo said in a perfectly matter-of-fact tone, which was somehow infuriating: “Very.”

Yu Qingjiang: “…”

The other two roommates couldn’t hold back their laughter.

Yu Qingjiang laughed too and said: “Is everyone hungry? Let’s go get dinner. I’ll take you to the third cafeteria — the cold noodles there are cheap and good, and the rice bowl sets are pretty solid too.”

Fang Zhuo told Yan Lie she was heading out, got up, and went with them to the cafeteria.

The next day, most students had arrived, and the school began running through all sorts of arrangements. Fang Zhuo unmuted the class group chat and received a notification from the advisor about a physical examination.

Their department had been scheduled collectively for one-thirty in the afternoon. But when the roommates went to join the queue, the line still stretched more than ten meters ahead of them. Every station required waiting. It wasn’t until dusk that everything was finally done.

One of the items on the exam form was a blood draw.

The queue Fang Zhuo ended up in wasn’t particularly lucky — the nurse handling it was not very experienced.

Under ordinary circumstances, Fang Zhuo would have been ideal for any trainee nurse: she had done a lot of physical work as a child, so her veins were quite visible. Yet somehow this particular nurse missed on the first attempt, then grew even more flustered than Fang Zhuo, shifted positions and tried again, and finally had to switch to the other arm.

By the time the examination was all wrapped up, the group grabbed a quick, rough dinner and then headed off to the designated classroom for the class meeting.

The class had slightly more women than men — roughly three to two — though according to the chatter among some of the students, this year’s intake had a few more boys than usual. Apparently the previous year, the male count had been truly sparse.

The homeroom teacher and the advisor asked everyone to come up and introduce themselves, then gave a brief overview of University A’s functional facilities — things like the library’s operating hours and the free wifi in the academic buildings.

Fang Zhuo wasn’t great at remembering names, and she wasn’t great at remembering faces either. Beyond her own roommates, she only managed to commit the class monitor and the sports representative to memory.

For the sake of convenience, she also followed everyone else’s lead and signed up for a messaging account, in addition to the one she already had.

Why does a person need two social media accounts? — Fang Zhuo asked.

That’s nowhere near the full count, actually. — Yu Qingjiang replied.

Back in the dormitory after the meeting, Fang Zhuo came out from the shower to find several new friend requests on her phone — mostly from classmates, plus one forwarded contact.

She accepted them all. The other parties immediately sent cheerful greetings. Thinking that these were all classmates and being too distant wouldn’t be great, she sent everyone a uniform “hello” sticker in reply.

Fang Zhuo had been intending to spend the evening playing on her laptop and watching the drama series Yan Lie had recommended. But her phone started buzzing incessantly, constantly derailing her progress.

She cycled between several accounts, reading through all sorts of questions and racking her brain for appropriate replies. She felt completely at a loss.

It was harder than the college entrance exam.

The boys’ conversation topics weren’t remotely interesting.

Her acting ability and social intelligence were meeting their greatest challenge in recorded history.

The male students at university were far more enthusiastic than those in high school — and also smarter and more tactful, keeping to an appropriate distance while naturally expressing interest in their new classmate.

Fang Zhuo was frowning, about to send everyone a blanket “getting ready to sleep,” when Yan Lie’s chat window jumped to the top.

That familiar profile picture. Fang Zhuo let out a long breath of relief.

Lielie With a Fierce Name: Is your class meeting over?

Little Sun: Just finished.

Lielie With a Fierce Name: [Husky grinning face] Me and my roommates are wandering around outside. It’s actually pretty cool out now.

Fang Zhuo typed carefully.

Little Sun: Is it mandatory to greet everyone in a new class? I’ve gotten messages from a bunch of people and the conversations are a little awkward.

Little Sun: How should I reply in a way that doesn’t come across as presumptuous, but still maintains a decent relationship with them as classmates?

Lielie With a Fierce Name: What are they asking you?

Little Sun: They asked what fun places and good food there are in City A. I said I don’t usually go out or eat outside.

Lielie With a Fierce Name: You can’t answer like that. That’s giving them a hundred and eight follow-up conversational angles.

Little Sun: …So what should I say?

Lielie With a Fierce Name: And looking at their questions — obsessed with eating and playing around — you can see these are clearly people who don’t put much effort into studying.

Lielie With a Fierce Name: Tell them your boyfriend’s home-cooked food is the best thing there is. And that the ocean of learning is the best place to explore! [Light of righteousness]

Little Sun: …

She couldn’t possibly look that foolish, could she?

Lielie With a Fierce Name: [Forcibly holding back tears]

Lielie With a Fierce Name: Just say you’re going to shower/do laundry/read/sleep.

Little Sun: What about after that?

Lielie With a Fierce Name: Starting tomorrow, there won’t be an “after that.”

Little Sun: ??

Yan Lie changed the subject quickly on his end.

Lielie With a Fierce Name: Did you finish all the items on the physical exam today? If not, there’s still half a day tomorrow. After that, you’d have to go to a hospital instead.

Fang Zhuo glanced down.

It hadn’t been very obvious during the day, but by evening, the spot where the needle had gone in wrong had turned a deep bruise. Pressing on it still hurt a little.

Fang Zhuo took a photo and sent it over, and this time it was Yan Lie who was speechless.

After a moment he sent a sympathetic sticker.

Lielie With a Fierce Name: Well, on behalf of humanity’s medical advancement, I thank you for your sacrifice.

Lielie With a Fierce Name: That young nurse’s progress owes something to you.

Lielie With a Fierce Name: In recognition of your contribution, your boyfriend — standing in for her — will treat you to a late-night snack. Would you prefer fried chicken, ice cream, or, since you are an adult, both?

Little Sun: I’ll take option 4.

Lielie With a Fierce Name: Noted. If you’d chosen option 3, you would have received the adult version of Lielie. Unfortunately, you’ve missed the hidden reward. [Disappointed]

Lielie With a Fierce Name: I’ll go smell out what’s most fragrant on the snack street and bring it to you. I’ll text you once I’ve bought it.

Little Sun: Okay.

Yan Lie’s military training uniform was more or less dry by then. Fang Zhuo went to take it down from the balcony, folded it, put it in a bag, and headed out to bring it to him.

Not long after, Yan Lie’s text came through. Fang Zhuo picked up the clothes and went downstairs, swiped her card to exit the dormitory building, and as she turned around, there it was — a long silhouette standing in the lamplight.

At the boundary where light met shadow, Fang Zhuo thought she noticed, in a half-dreaming way, that Yan Lie seemed to have grown taller again. His upright figure stood beside the tall osmanthus tree, and even from a distance he looked distinct from the other young men — sharp, handsome, composed.

In the quiet, spacious campus at night, with only a handful of people passing through, the smile that broke across his face when he saw Fang Zhuo was faint — and yet utterly clear, like the wind, dissolving into the sparse, swaying tree shadows, visible only to her.

Fang Zhuo walked toward him. Yan Lie extended the paper bag toward her.

“Got fried pork strips — they smell incredible.”

Fang Zhuo had already caught the scent. She speared a piece with a bamboo skewer, ready to eat, when Yan Lie turned her hand and directed it into his own mouth instead.

She gave him a long-suffering look, utterly resigned to this particular brand of childishness.

Yan Lie said: “The top pieces have gone cold, I’ll have those. The bottom is too oily, I’ll have those too. You pick from the middle.”

Fang Zhuo was caught off-guard, thrown by his unexpectedly thoughtful gesture. A faint warmth crept into her voice: “You don’t have to do that.”

“Am I good to you?” Yan Lie looked down at her and said, “I can be good to you forever. Give you everything that’s best. Will you be a little good to me too?”

Fang Zhuo thought to herself: when was she ever not good to him? She looked up and asked: “What kind of good?”

Yan Lie simply looked at her without speaking. The upward curve at the corner of his lips carried a hint of mischief, but he had covered it up, masking it behind an expression of innocent expectation. He had always been this way. Whether saying something sweet, or angling for a desired answer. Whatever expression, whatever approach — he could always make it come across as open and sincere.

And in the end, he always got what he wanted.

Fang Zhuo stepped forward and grabbed the front of his shirt, pulling him down. Yan Lie bent his head cooperatively.

Fang Zhuo meant to kiss his cheek. Yan Lie dodged it. He raised an eyebrow and looked at her with a wounded expression.

Fang Zhuo felt the heat rise in her face. Getting a little flustered, she grabbed his chin directly and kissed him on the mouth.

He must have used lemon-scented body wash — at that closeness, Fang Zhuo caught the scent of it.

She liked it very much.

Yan Lie had many endearing qualities, and his good points shone bright as stars — yet his territory had only one entrance, and only Fang Zhuo was permitted to pass through.

Yu Qingjiang was lying in bed scrolling through her phone when she idly checked her social media feed and found that Fang Zhuo’s account had just posted something new.

A photograph.

The photo showed two people sitting side by side. A pair of hands that were visibly male had entered the frame, holding a bag from some fried food stall.

Above the image, in perfectly unremarkable text, read: “Tastes pretty good.”

Yu Qingjiang: “…”

For crying out loud — who on earth lets a couple flaunt their happiness in the middle of the night like this?