“Pei Huan, senior!” Yan Zimi called out as they prepared to leave, his tone carrying a hint of something different.

Pei Huan paused mid-sip, the last gulp of water halted at his lips. The unexpected shift in Yan Zimi’s voice made him stop, his curiosity piqued. “What’s wrong?” he asked, looking at Yan Zimi with a mix of intrigue and concern.

Yan Zimi took a moment, searching for the right words. “I just wanted to say… thanks for today. I had a lot of fun,” he said, his sincerity shining through. “And, um, sorry for hitting you with the ball earlier.”

Pei Huan smiled, his expression softening. “No problem at all. Just a small price to pay for such a great show,” he teased lightly, but the warmth in his eyes was unmistakable.

“Next time, I’ll be sure to aim better,” Yan Zimi replied, grinning. There was a comfortable camaraderie between them, a budding friendship that felt refreshing in its simplicity.

Pei Huan chuckled, “Looking forward to it.” The two shared a knowing glance, the kind that hinted at future adventures together, both excited and nervous about where this connection might lead.

Yan Zimi glanced over at the audience area, his tone still teasing. “When seniors play basketball, are there girls watching?”

Pei Huan finished the last of his drink, tossing the empty bottle toward a nearby trash can with a satisfying thunk. “Are you saying girls watch me play?”

Yan Zimi pressed on, “Do you know some girls sneakily take pictures of you?”

Without missing a beat, Pei Huan pulled Yan Zimi closer, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and playfully pinching his cheek. “What’s with the teasing, huh?”

Yan Zimi chuckled, shaking his head to escape Pei Huan’s grip. “Aren’t you the senior? Why are you acting all coy about it?”

Pei Huan shot back, “Am I not a senior?”

Yan Zimi challenged, “If you’re not, then who is?”

Pei Huan gestured ahead. “You have your own seniors.”

It took a moment for Yan Zimi to process the jab, finally realizing Pei Huan was referring to his old roommate, a senior he had always admired. He let out a laugh, shaking his head. “I’m talking about you! You’re the one in the spotlight here.”

Pei Huan smirked, “Well, you’re clearly more interested in me than anyone else,” he teased, but there was a hint of warmth in his eyes.

Yan Zimi felt a flutter in his chest at the playful banter, appreciating how easily they fell into this lighthearted rhythm. “Maybe I am,” he admitted, a mischievous glint in his gaze. “You’re pretty fun to be around.”

Pei Huan raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Just fun? I’ll have to step up my game then.”

Their laughter filled the air as they walked away from the basketball court, the friendly banter setting the stage for a deeper connection that neither of them had anticipated.

Pei Huan had already taken several steps ahead, and Yan Zimi found himself momentarily lost in thought, staring at Pei Huan’s retreating figure. But he quickly shook off the feeling; it just wasn’t possible.

The day had ended early, and the sky was still bright.

However, a gentle evening breeze swept in, prompting Pei Huan to slip on Yan Zimi’s jacket that had been draped over his wrist. Yan Zimi quickened his pace to catch up, glancing over at Pei Huan as he pulled his hands out of the sleeves.

“Are you going to wear it tomorrow?” Yan Zimi asked quietly, curiosity dancing in his eyes.

Pei Huan tugged at the collar playfully, returning the question. “Do you want me to?”

Yan Zimi nodded quickly three times, his movements small yet enthusiastic.

Pei Huan chuckled. “Then I will.”

He was set to meet with a company the next day with his teacher, and somehow, wearing Yan Zimi’s jacket felt like a way to bring him along, too.

But this also meant that Yan Zimi wouldn’t be able to join Pei Huan for dinner that night, nor would they have the chance to listen to audio exercises together in the library the next day.

As they walked, about 200 meters of shared path remained, and soon they would part ways. The proximity felt comfortable, yet there was an underlying tension—an unspoken acknowledgment that they both enjoyed each other’s company more than they had anticipated.

“Guess I’ll have to find a way to sneak in some time with you later,” Yan Zimi said, his voice light but hopeful.

Pei Huan glanced back with a smile. “I’d like that. Just let me know when you’re free.”

They exchanged grins, a silent promise lingering between them, even as their paths began to diverge.

Yan Zimi couldn’t help but steal a glance at Pei Huan, but to his surprise, Pei Huan turned to look back at him, catching him in the act.

He could have easily brushed it off as an innocent coincidence or redirected his gaze to the horizon, but his mind momentarily froze, and his nervous system conspiring against him, causing his ears to flush a bright red.

Pei Huan, of course, found it amusing. “What were you thinking about?” he asked with a teasing smile.

Fortunately, Yan Zimi’s brain kicked back into gear quickly, and he managed to squeeze out a response. “I just remembered your painting isn’t finished yet.”

Pei Huan pondered for a moment. “You have classes on Tuesdays and Thursdays, right?”

“Yeah,” Yan Zimi confirmed.

“Let’s plan for the week after next then. I won’t have time next week,” Pei Huan said. “Will you be able to finish it in one evening?”

“If you come early enough, we can definitely finish it,” Yan Zimi replied, trying to sound confident.

Pei Huan nodded in agreement and raised his hand, mimicking riding a motorcycle, just like he had done the last time they talked about it.

Yan Zimi burst into laughter, his eyes crinkling into crescent moons, and he joined Pei Huan in pretending to ride, their shared joy hanging in the air between them like a fragile thread of connection.

The light-hearted moment broke any remaining tension, and as they shared a laugh, Yan Zimi felt a warm thrill of anticipation for their next meeting.

Yan Zimi blinked in confusion, unsure of what Pei Huan meant. “What do you mean?”

Pei Huan smirked, keeping his palm hovering in front of Yan Zimi’s forehead. “Just try it. You know, like a cat.”

A mix of embarrassment and amusement washed over Yan Zimi. He hesitated for a moment, then narrowed his eyes playfully. “You want me to meow like a cat?”

Pei Huan nodded with an exaggerated seriousness, clearly enjoying this little game. “Yes, exactly! Just one little ‘meow’ for me.”

With a dramatic sigh, Yan Zimi decided to play along. He took a deep breath and, in a voice that was half amused and half shy, let out a soft, “Meow…”

Pei Huan burst into laughter, the sound ringing out like music in the evening air. “That was adorable!” he exclaimed, clearly delighted by the response.

Yan Zimi couldn’t help but smile at Pei Huan’s infectious laughter. “I can’t believe I just did that,” he said, his cheeks warming again, but this time it felt more like a pleasant blush than embarrassment.

Pei Huan grinned, his eyes sparkling. “You should do it more often! It suits you.”

With a playful roll of his eyes, Yan Zimi shot back, “I’ll only meow for you if you promise to keep feeding me cat videos.”

“Deal,” Pei Huan replied, a mischievous glint in his eye. They continued walking, the conversation flowing easily as the sun began to dip lower in the sky, painting everything in warm hues.

Yan Zimi was puzzled but went along with it: “Meow?”

Pei Huan smiled, gently pressing his palm against Yan Zimi’s hair on his forehead.

Yan Zimi understood: “I’m not a cat.”

It was fine until he said that; Pei Huan’s hand, which was about to retract, came back and rested on Yan Zimi’s forehead again: “Come here.”

Just a moment ago, he had insisted he wasn’t a cat, yet Yan Zimi cooperatively rubbed against Pei Huan’s palm.

“Meow~”

Pei Huan smiled happily.

Before long, they parted ways. After walking a few steps in different directions, Yan Zimi couldn’t help but glance back at Pei Huan.

Pei Huan had his hands in his pockets, and with the sunset casting long shadows, even his silhouette looked handsome.

He was just a person walking, but Yan Zimi stared for a long time, wondering if Pei Huan would turn around and look at him too.

Thinking about how Pei Huan would never smile at him, Yan Zimi couldn’t help but look away. He let out a soft sigh and took out his phone from his pocket.

What he didn’t realize was that just as he was lowering his head to unlock it, the person who was about to turn down another path glanced back.

Why was Yan Zimi walking so slowly?

He intended to complain to Lin Jie, but upon seeing the two people he had blocked on the screen, he remembered that he hadn’t replied to the messages from earlier that morning.

He didn’t need to respond to Xiao Gang, as he hadn’t been asked any questions.

As for the senior…

“You have your own senior, you know.”

Pei Huan’s words suddenly flashed in his mind.

Yan Zimi pressed his lips together, only unblocking the senior’s messages without replying. He exited the chat and found Lin Jie below.

Yan Zimi: “What should I do…?”

Lin Jie was probably busy playing on his phone and quickly replied: “Pei Huan?”

Yan Zimi: “What should I do?”

Lin Jie: “It’s dry and desolate; stay away from straight guys.”

Yan Zimi: “If only that were possible.”

Yan Zimi had fallen so far that when Pei Huan asked if he had free time, his heart would already soar to him.

Lin Jie added: “Why not give it a try?”

Lin Jie: “What if?”

Yan Zimi hesitated: “I’m scared. He’s straightforward, and he’s also homophobic.”

Yan Zimi: “So isn’t that just being afraid of me?”

Lin Jie: “Well, that makes things complicated.”

Yan Zimi knew that Lin Jie didn’t have any good ideas—there were only options to advance or retreat—but he still wanted to talk to Lin Jie. It felt like having someone give him advice would ease his heart a bit.

But really, weren’t there just three ways to handle this: to move forward, to step back, or to maintain the status quo?

After discussing this, Yan Zimi felt he had addressed his emotions, and his sentimentality for the day came to an end.

With nothing much to do in the evening, he had a bowl of noodles downstairs before heading back to his apartment. Once inside, he set out the painting that Zhao Di had requested.

Since it was a gift for a girl, Yan Zimi decided to add some romantic colors to the artwork.

After studying the painting for a few minutes, inspiration struck him. With a squeeze of paint and a flick of the brush, he began!

This painting easily consumed his entire evening, and since it was Zhao Di’s request, Yan Zimi was even more meticulous.

After applying the first layer of color, he instinctively checked his phone—good, no one was trying to reach him.

Looking up, he felt like the layers in this painting resembled something.

So, he took a photo and posted it to his Moments.

The caption read, “While painting, I suddenly craved Ocean Tea Momo.”

At this moment, the large painting didn’t look very real, but this little image started to resemble it more and more.

Before long, Yan Zimi received numerous comments from people. Some said it really looked like it, some mentioned that they were craving it after his post, and others said they hadn’t had it in a long time…

“Ocean Tea Momo.”

On the other side, seeing Yan Zimi’s post, Pei Huan pronounced this unfamiliar term: “What is that?”

“Ocean Tea Momo?” Zhao Di, who was playing games in the back, repeated, “Isn’t that milk tea?”

Pei Huan: “Milk tea?”

Zhao Di nodded: “Yeah, Ya Ya used to love it. I often bought it for her.”

Pei Huan asked, “Where can you get it?”

Zhao Di said, “There used to be a place on East Street, and I think there’s also one on Lanhua Street.” He was watching TV while educating Pei Huan: “That shop is called Tea Momo. You used to have to wait in line for a long time every time. Later, the owner opened a branch, but only the Ocean Tea Momo sold well there; the other drinks didn’t do so well, so when they saturated the market, the East Street location ended up closing down.”

Pei Huan replied with an “mm.”

At this moment, Pei Huan had just returned to his dormitory. He had intended to find Yan Zimi and saw a notification from him on Moments, so he checked it out first.

Pei Huan asked, “Are you painting?”

Yan Zimi quickly replied, “Yeah, it’s Zhao Di’s painting.”

Yan Zimi: “Are you done?”

Fire: “Just finished, heading back to the dorm now.”

Yan Zimi: “Have you had a drink?”

Fire: “No, just had a meal and chatted a bit before coming back.”

Fire then asked, “Want some milk tea?”

Yan Zimi glanced back at the photo again.

When the Tea Momo on East Street was still open, he would always bring back a cup every time he finished work at the studio.

After that location closed down, he craved it and went to the one on Lanhua Street.

But it was just too far.

He wondered if the Lanhua Street location was still in business.

Yan Zimi: “Sigh, I’m craving it.”

Yan Zimi: “Have you ever had Ocean Tea Momo?”

Fire: “No.”

Yan Zimi: “It has a really unique taste—fragrant, smooth, sweet but not overwhelming. It’s especially delicious.”

Yan Zimi: “I’ve never had a texture like this before.”

Fire: “Is it that good?”

Yan Zimi: “Yeah.”

Thinking that Pei Huan probably wouldn’t be interested, Yan Zimi decided not to continue the conversation about milk tea.

He said, “Don’t tell Zhao Di that it’s his painting. Let me finish it first before you say anything.”

Fire sent an “OK” emoji from his phone.

In Yan Zimi’s circle, only his dad, grandfather, and teachers used that kind of emoji.

Now, there was also Pei Huan.

Yan Zimi smiled and replied to Pei Huan, “You need to wake up early tomorrow, so go to bed early tonight.”

Fire: “You should be the one to sleep early.”

Fire: “Don’t stay up late just to paint.”

Fire: “He’s not worth it.”

Yan Zimi laughed: “I know, I know.”

He hadn’t planned to finish the painting in one night anyway. Once he had an idea, painting actually went pretty quickly, especially since Zhao Di’s ex-girlfriend wouldn’t be back in the country for several weeks.

After their chat ended, Yan Zimi immersed himself back into the painting.

Once he got lost in his art, time seemed to fly by for him.

Before he knew it, it was already past midnight.

Yan Zimi gathered the ends of his painting, stretched his shoulders, and let out a long sigh.

Just as he stood up, he heard the doorbell ringing.

Frowning in confusion, Yan Zimi put down his paintbrush and walked over.

He first looked through the peephole, and upon seeing who it was, he quickly opened the door.

Pei Huan was standing there, still wearing his jacket. After being out in the wind for who knows how long, Yan Zimi could feel the chill radiating from him.

He was wearing black gloves, one hand holding a set of car keys and the other carrying a bag that Yan Zimi hadn’t seen in a long time.

Yan Zimi couldn’t hide his surprise, staring blankly at Pei Huan.

Pei Huan lifted the bag and asked, “Do you still want to drink some?”

It wasn’t an exaggeration; at that moment, Yan Zimi felt a nerve inside him—one he couldn’t name—almost like an electric shock, making him tingle.

It felt so unreal.

“I do.”