47

This was Xiao Wen’s first time experiencing such a scene. The room was dark, and the candles on the small car-shaped cake flickered brightly. His parents, uncles, and aunts surrounded him, singing together.

Xiao Wen blinked, a little confused about what everyone was doing, but it seemed quite fun.

However, when that cool car—just as handsome as him—was cut into pieces, Xiao Wen felt very dissatisfied. It wasn’t until a sweet, rich bite of cake was stuffed into his mouth that he became happy again.

After all, it was his first time tasting something so sweet!

After the birthday party, Xiao Wen fell asleep in the car. Zhu Jia leaned back in her seat, utterly exhausted.

“I’ll take you to school tomorrow,” Mo Yichen suddenly said.

“I want to go to the library early to study,” Zhu Jia replied.

“No problem,” Mo Yichen paused briefly. “Get some sleep; I’ll wake you when we’re home.”

Zhu Jia listened to the soothing car music and closed her eyes to rest against the seat.

The next morning, Xiao Wen was still asleep when Zhu Jia got up early. After a quick wash, she hurried downstairs for breakfast and saw Mo Yichen, dressed formally, sitting at the dining table.

“Morning.” Zhu Jia yawned widely. “Do you always get up this early?”

“Pretty much,” Mo Yichen replied, glancing at her with a flicker of interest in his eyes.

Today, she had no makeup on, her hair tied up in a high ponytail. She wore a short white sweater paired with high-waisted light blue jeans and carried a white canvas bag over her shoulder.

She looked so pure.

Mo Yichen lightly turned the teacup in his hand, smiling ambiguously.

At exactly eight in the morning, Zhu Jia arrived at the library, giving herself an hour and a half to study before her 10 a.m. class. The past few days had been too busy with Xiao Wen’s birthday preparations to find time to study.

The library was already crowded. Zhu Jia found a four-person table by the window and set down her canvas bag.

As she unpacked her books, a clean and clear male voice spoke beside her. “Is this seat taken?”

Zhu Jia looked up to see Chen Tingyan, someone she hadn’t seen for a long time. They had crossed paths twice before on campus, but each time it was just a quick greeting before hurrying off to class.

“It’s free. Have a seat,” Zhu Jia said, organizing her books neatly to avoid taking up too much space.

Chen Tingyan sat across from her, looking a bit groggy. His damp bangs hinted he had just showered, and the scent of minty body wash lingered in the air.

“Why so early?” he asked, pulling out some English study materials.

“It’s not that early. I have class at ten,” Zhu Jia replied, opening a green notebook and pulling out a blue pen.

Chen Tingyan took out a box of strawberry milk from his black backpack. “This came with breakfast. Do you want it?”

“I don’t like this flavor,” he added, turning his face away slightly.

Zhu Jia accepted the warm strawberry milk, delighted. It was a brand she liked but rarely bought because it seldom went on promotion. To think the campus store gave it as a freebie with breakfast!

Smiling, she said, “Thanks.”

Chen Tingyan responded with a quiet “Mm” and drank from a bottle of water, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he tilted his head back.

For the next hour, Zhu Jia immersed herself in her studies, carefully noting down key points in her notebook.

On the other hand, Chen Tingyan struggled to focus. The faint milky fragrance around her and her serious expression kept distracting him.

When Zhu Jia stretched after completing a page of notes, she caught him memorizing English vocabulary. Sensing her gaze, he looked up.

“Um, is there a computer here to search for books?” she asked, recalling a reference book she wanted to find.

“There is. I’ll take you there,” Chen Tingyan said, putting his pen down.

“No need, I can manage,” Zhu Jia quickly waved her hand, not wanting to trouble him.

But Chen Tingyan stood up anyway. “It’s hard to find. Let’s go.”

Feeling a bit embarrassed, Zhu Jia followed him. “Sorry for taking up your time.”

“It’s fine,” he replied, leading her to a computer tucked away in a corner.

Zhu Jia searched the library system, locating the book’s code: 115 1898.

“How do you make sense of this?” she muttered.

“I know where it is. Follow me,” he offered, lips curling into a slight smile.

Grateful, Zhu Jia nodded. “Thank you. Sorry to trouble you again.”

“It’s nothing,” he said, guiding her through rows of shelves. “It should be in these two aisles. Codes 115 and 1898 are both here.”

After a few minutes of searching, Zhu Jia spotted the book on the topmost shelf. It was just out of reach.

She stood on tiptoe, stretching, but still couldn’t grab it.

Suddenly, a refreshing mint scent enveloped her as a strong arm reached past her, brushing against her hair. The hand easily retrieved the book.

“Here,” Chen Tingyan handed her the book.

Taking it, Zhu Jia noticed his hands. Unlike Mo Yichen’s slender, artistic fingers, Chen Tingyan’s hands were muscular, with prominent veins, exuding youthful energy.

“Thank you,” she said with a smile, thinking to herself that he was a genuinely helpful classmate. No wonder Wang Zheng admired him so much.

“Hmm.” Chen Tingyan rubbed his nose and turned to head back.

From the side, Zhu Jia noticed the redness in his earlobes. “Chen Tingyan, I think you’re very sensitive to heat.”

Chen Tingyan paused, confused, and looked at her.

“You’re always blushing, even your ears.” Zhu Jia pointed to his ears.

A flicker of alarm and embarrassment flashed in his eyes. “That’s impossible!” he retorted, seemingly annoyed, before striding away quickly.

Zhu Jia: …It’s not like blushing is some shameful thing. Why did he run off so fast?

At 3 a.m. in a studio apartment near City University, Chen Tingyan sat up in bed, breathing heavily.

He wiped the light sweat from his forehead, unable to believe the dream he had just had.

He turned on the bedside lamp and stared at the faint glow in the darkness. In it, he seemed to see the same delicate figure from his dream: fair, soft, and supple, like a smooth splash of milk.

It was so silky that he had to firmly grip it with his veined, strong hands to keep it from slipping away.

The scene remained in the library—she stood on tiptoe to reach a book, her strawberry-milk scent lingering in the air as he reached over her shoulder to help.

But in the dream, he hadn’t handed her the book. The book had fallen to the ground, along with other things—like a white sweater.

Shaking his head, he walked to the bathroom and splashed cold water on his face, finally breaking free from the absurdity of his dream.

At nineteen, his youthful energy burned hot. Even after a cold shower, his skin radiated warmth.

He had only met her a few times—why was she invading his thoughts like this?

A blue-eyed Ragdoll cat lying on the bed let out a soft “meow.”

Picking up his phone, he opened her profile, marked by a yellow cartoon flower icon. Her Moments were limited to the past three days, leaving just a blank line below.

After some hesitation, he typed: “Are you going to the library tomorrow?”

A moment later, he added: “I can save you a seat.”

At 6:30 a.m., Zhu Jia was awakened by her alarm. Forcing her eyes open, she grabbed her phone to turn it off and noticed Chen Tingyan’s message from 3 a.m.

Rubbing her eyes, she thought she must have misread.

Chen Tingyan asked if she was going to the library at 3 a.m.? He must really love studying!

Feeling motivated in comparison, she quickly got up, dressed, and went downstairs for breakfast.

As usual, Mo Yichen was already seated at the table.

“I’ll drop you off at school later,” he said while peeling a boiled egg, his slender fingers moving with elegant precision.

“Okay!” Zhu Jia replied cheerfully, sipping her milk.

Mo Yichen placed the perfectly peeled egg on her plate.

“I don’t like eating boiled egg yolks,” she said, pouting slightly.

“Give it to me,” he replied.

Using a fork, Zhu Jia carefully scooped out the round yolk and placed it in Mo Yichen’s bowl. She watched as he ate it with black coffee and toast, looking pleased.

“Time flies—just two weeks until winter break and the New Year. How do we usually celebrate?” she asked while spreading strawberry jam on her toast.

“Nothing special, just a night at the old family estate,” he replied.

Zhu Jia nodded and continued nibbling on her toast, its edges slightly charred.