Chapter 16: Cafeteria Encounter  

The bustling crowd in the cafeteria enveloped her as the aroma of food wafted through the air.  

Lin Yumo slowly moved along with the line, her mind tangled in the dilemma of what to eat for dinner.  

Song Xingran, who was ahead of her in the queue, suddenly turned around, her eyes sparkling as she asked, “Little Jasmine, what do you feel like having tonight? I can’t decide—I’m craving ribs but also want chicken legs.”  

Lin Yumo gave a helpless smile, equally torn. “Why not have both?”  

Song Xingran quickly shook her head, her face scrunched in distress. “No way! I’ve already gained three pounds this month. And even though I slathered on sunscreen during military training, I still got tanned.”  

She leaned in closer to scrutinize Lin Yumo’s face, her expression full of envy. “Meanwhile, you’re as pale as if you just stepped out of a milk bath. Did you secretly drink Immortal Water behind my back?”  

The light reflected off the tiles danced along Lin Yumo’s wrist, where the faint warmth of her jasmine tattoo pulsed imperceptibly.  

Gazing at Song Xingran’s slightly flushed cheeks—thin from stress—Lin Yumo found herself blurting out impulsively, “Then let me teach you a trick to lose weight fast.”  

Song Xingran’s eyes instantly lit up. “Little Jasmine, tell me quick! I can’t wait!”  

Lin Yumo deliberately drew out her words, her fingers tracing an imaginary line in the air. “Just leave your heart with me.”  

“Cough, cough, cough!” Song Xingran choked on her own saliva, completely caught off guard.  

In the awkward silence that followed, a muffled laugh suddenly sounded from behind them.  

Lin Yumo stiffened, then slowly turned around—only to meet a pair of peach-blossom eyes brimming with amusement.  

Jiang Bozhou stood with one hand in his pocket, the collar of his school uniform casually unbuttoned, a silver chain glinting faintly beneath. The smirk on his lips resembled a cat that had just stolen the cream.  

Jiang Bozhou seemed equally surprised to have been caught. He cleared his throat awkwardly to break the silence, then smoothly turned his head toward Chi Miao behind him. “Chi Miao, this is all your fault—you just had to tell me that joke.”  

His tone carried deliberate complaint, but when his gaze met Lin Yumo’s slightly flustered one, he faltered.  

As Jiang Bozhou spoke, Chi Miao frowned slightly, his eyes filled with bewilderment, as if unsure what nonsense Jiang Bozhou was spouting now.  

He studied Jiang Bozhou’s poorly suppressed grin, his Adam’s apple bobbing slightly as he opened his mouth to speak—only for Jiang Bozhou to suddenly lean in close. Chi Miao instinctively tilted his head away.  

“Bro, I’ll keep you in my heart—just don’t say anything,” Jiang Bozhou whispered, his voice low and laced with laughter.  

Chi Miao gave him a long, searching look before finally pressing his lips together, as if silently agreeing to this inexplicable “arrangement,” and averted his gaze.  

Only then did Lin Yumo notice the boy standing in the shadows.  

He lingered at the border between light and darkness, his blue-and-white school uniform buttoned meticulously to the top, every fastener perfectly aligned—exuding an air of almost rigid discipline.  

A strange unease surged in her chest. The thought that Chi Miao might have overheard her teasing words sent her heart into a frantic rhythm.  

She instinctively looked up—only to lock eyes with Chi Miao, who had just turned his attention away from Jiang Bozhou.  

In that instant, the noisy cafeteria seemed to fall silent.  

The shouts of the lunch ladies, the clatter of trays, the chatter of students—all vanished.  

Time itself seemed to freeze. The only sound Lin Yumo could hear was the thunderous pounding of her own heart, her blood roaring through her veins.

Chi Miao’s deep eyes were like an unfathomable lake, drawing her in completely until she even forgot to breathe.

“Little Jasmine!”

Song Xingran’s excited voice suddenly rang out as she tightly grasped Lin Yumo’s hand.

Only then did Lin Yumo snap out of her daze, casually being the first to look away and turn her body back around. Yet the sweat in her palms and her rapidly beating heart silently betrayed the turmoil within her.

Song Xingran also turned back, one hand still subtly fidgeting with Lin Yumo’s, seemingly still excited about their recent encounter.

The cafeteria line moved like a slowly crawling dragon, and in the blink of an eye, it was Lin Yumo’s turn.

The lingering palpitations from locking eyes with Chi Miao hadn’t yet faded, her fingertips still tingling slightly. Even the rich aromas wafting from the food counter now seemed indistinct.

Her gaze swept over the tempting sweet and sour pork ribs and golden crispy fried chicken legs, but she couldn’t muster the energy to deliberate, randomly pointing at two vegetarian dishes instead.

After getting her food, she sat down with Song Xingran at an empty corner table, the metal chair slightly cool against her skin.

No sooner had Song Xingran set her tray down heavily than her eyes sparkled as she lowered her voice, unable to contain her excitement:

“Ahhh! I just saw the Lord of Zero!”

Lin Yumo lowered her eyes and pulled out a tissue, handing it over with her usual calm tone:

“Mhm, I saw him too. Here’s a tissue for you to wipe your utensils.”

Song Xingran took the tissue but remained immersed in their recent encounter:

“It’s been so long since I last saw him. Our PE class isn’t scheduled with theirs, ugh.”

She let out a soft sigh, her voice full of regret as she absentmindedly pushed her food around with her chopsticks.

Lin Yumo looked up at her friend’s crestfallen expression and couldn’t help but smile. “Hurry up and eat. We have monthly exams tomorrow, and you still haven’t figured out that math problem.”

She tapped Song Xingran’s tray with her chopsticks, producing a crisp sound.

Song Xingran frowned in distress, her face practically scrunching up. “Little Jasmine, I’d almost forgotten about that. Why’d you have to remind me of such unhappy things?”

She grumbled, finally stopping her chatter about Chi Miao as she switched to complaining mode – from their math teacher’s excessive homework load to the complicated problem types – all while poking at her rice.

Lin Yumo listened quietly, occasionally murmuring in agreement.

The warm yellow lighting in the cafeteria corner cast shadows of Chi Miao’s trio on the stainless steel tables.

Jiang Bozhou set his tray down: “That moment earlier almost gave us away!”

The youth deliberately adjusted his unbuttoned uniform collar, the silver chain at his collarbone catching the light. “My carefully crafted ‘effortless look’ definitely caught the little fairy’s attention.”

Wen Yannan pulled out a chair from behind, its legs scraping against the floor.

“More like they noticed you almost laughing yourself silly,” he retorted, tapping Jiang Bozhou’s tray with his chopsticks and splattering sweet and sour sauce onto the other’s hand.

“Last time you wanted to add Class 3’s beauty, now it’s Class 7’s ‘little fairy.’ Careful or you’ll end up on a most-wanted list someday.”

Chi Miao remained silent throughout, merely using his silver spoon to cut the tofu in his bowl into small cubes.

But when Jiang Bozhou mentioned “she looks really good in uniform,” his fingers suddenly tightened around the spoon, the porcelain bowl emitting a faint, crisp sound at the rim.

The image of the girl with her ponytail suddenly flashed through his mind—the collar of her blue-and-white school uniform brushing against her fair neck, a few stray strands of hair slightly curled from the steam in the cafeteria.  

When she turned, the ends of her hair swept through the warm light above the serving window, like the wings of a white bird taking flight.  

“Hey, Lord of Zero, what are you thinking about?” Jiang Bozhou suddenly poked his chopsticks into Chi Miao’s bowl. “Admiring her too, huh?”  

Chi Miao snapped back to reality, the tofu cube in his spoon crumbling into pieces.  

He didn’t respond, only scooping up the scattered tofu and eating it. The motion made Wen Yannan raise an eyebrow.  

By the time Lin Yumo and Song Xingran disappeared through the cafeteria doors, Chi Miao had just finished his last sip of soup.  

“Let’s go, let’s go! We’re gonna be late for evening self-study!”  

Jiang Bozhou’s urging rang out repeatedly as Chi Miao stood and left with them.