Chapter Fifty-Two: An Unexpected Encounter

That night.

Ye Mian turned back, watching as the car’s taillights flickered and vanished. She thought of the QQ friend request she’d just received, and then remembered adding the WeChat contact. Her lips couldn’t help but curl into a smile.

The breeze before the rain softly swept past, making her steps lighter. The thoughts of a young girl were hidden away in the moonlight.

The wind at the end of that summer was sweet.

——

When Ye Mian returned to her dorm, Qin Feifei and Wang Xiang were not back yet. Inside, it was pitch dark, without a trace of light. Ye Mian entered, turned on the lamp, closed the door gently, set her bag on the chair, and placed the apple juice on the desk.

Wenda University’s dormitories were quite comfortable. Four students shared a space with a private bathroom, air conditioning, four desks, and beds that were not small—almost like a tiny apartment. After all, it was a prestigious university, having produced many outstanding graduates who, once successful in society, often gave back to their alma mater. The dorms at Yunda were considered among the best in the country.

Ye Mian tied up her loose hair, picked up her nightgown, and went to the bathroom to wash up. Warm water cascaded down, quickly filling the room with mist, relaxing every cell in her body. The delicate foam, with its faint fragrance, reminded her of what Jiang Chen had said in the car.

“So, you didn’t watch, then you avoided me, and now you say I’m heartless.”

So, he hadn’t been avoiding her.

Every word pressed down on her like a bubble, filling her heart with an awkward, bashful emotion.

It was a feeling all too familiar—like the night she’d first discovered her own feelings.

Her heart thudded, swelling slightly.

She couldn’t think about it anymore. Squinting, she smiled, slathered bubbles onto her face, and rinsed off quickly.

After slipping on her nightgown, she dove onto the bed, sinking straight into the soft quilt without resistance.

Lying there, staring at the small lamp on the ceiling, she grabbed a pillow, pressed it to her chest, and tried to stifle her excitement.

Ye Mian, have some self-control!

Yes! Show some self-control.

She exhaled, rolled over, and glanced at her desk. The apple juice looked delicious, and she recalled what Jiang Chen had said when he handed it to her:

“Is that so? But when I came down just now, you looked like you were throwing up pretty hard.”

Ye Mian buried her face in the pillow at once.

Oh no, had he recognized her from the start? Had she been embarrassed for nothing?

That mixture of shame and awkwardness tangled together, lingering until Ye Mian fell asleep, the corners of her mouth still upturned.

The next morning.

When Qin Feifei and Wang Xiang returned, they brought breakfast for Ye Mian.

Ye Mian was already up, washing in the bathroom. She’d slept well last night and was in great spirits—her eyes were bright and lively, more vibrant than early spring water, her skin pale and fine, her features handsome, yet softened by the gentlest gaze.

“Mian Mian, look what we brought you,” Wang Xiang said, grinning mischievously as she opened the takeaway box—inside was the most famous beef noodle soup in Wencheng.

The rich, milky-white beef bone broth sent its aroma straight to Ye Mian’s nose, making her mouth water. She quickly washed her face and came out, smiling, “It smells amazing.”

She split the disposable chopsticks, picked up a piece of beef, and popped it into her mouth, savoring the flavor that satisfied her taste buds.

Qin Feifei sat across from her, chin in hand, smiling, “So, tell us—what’s going on between you and Boss Jiang? You never explained yesterday.”

Ye Mian caught the key words at once, puzzled, “Boss Jiang? Who’s Boss Jiang?”

Wang Xiang, sprawled on her bed, put down her phone and glared, “What kind of response is that? Don’t tell me you don’t know? You really don’t know?”

Ye Mian nodded honestly, “I don’t know. Please explain.”

Qin Feifei was surprised, too. “The secret spot we went to yesterday is run by Jiang Chen! We only found out later. You two were high school classmates and you didn’t know?”

Wang Xiang nodded, “When we left, he even let us off the bill.”

Ye Mian shook her head slowly. To be fair, she really didn’t know.

A year ago, Jiang Chen was unloved.

She had tried her best, patching things up, but could never get closer to him.

Time, unnoticed, had changed that boy completely.

But knowing how things would unfold in the future, she felt little surprise.

She put down her chopsticks, suddenly realizing something—her eyes widened, “No wonder you two, who usually just bring buns, bought beef noodles for me today!”

Qin Feifei and Wang Xiang burst into laughter.

After breakfast, it was already nine o’clock.

Ye Mian had class at nine thirty, so she grabbed her book bag and hurried out.

Qin Feifei and Wang Xiang were in a different department; their classes were in the afternoon.

University courses allowed phones in class, and as long as you weren’t disruptive, teachers rarely interfered.

Each class felt long.

There’s a saying: In college, there are only two or three classes a day, but those two or three classes can fill the whole day.

Though a touch exaggerated, it wasn’t far from the truth.

Ye Mian always paid close attention in class, but even she couldn’t help yawning toward the end. Her water bottle held bitter coffee; she took a sip, letting the taste jolt her sleepy nerves and continued listening.

...

Within Wenda University, Jiang Chen sat on the steps near the basketball court. The morning’s eight o’clock class had packed the schedules of Guan Yi and his group of rich kids. After class, they played basketball.

They weren’t playing seriously, just tossing the ball around before sitting down.

Students passing by were curious—turns out, the wealthy students in college weren’t what they’d imagined: skipping class, fighting, living recklessly.

They actually attended classes on time; it was just their spending habits that set them apart. They didn’t crowd the cafeteria like everyone else, nor did they often appear on campus.

Guan Yi’s girlfriend was in the same department as Ye Mian, and happened to be in class too, sitting right in front of her, only half paying attention.

The teacher glanced at his watch, recapped the main points, and with a resounding voice announced, “That’s all for today. We’ll continue next time.”

High school teachers often kept students late, determined to finish the lesson. University professors rarely did.

Having just left high school, the students weren’t used to this, and a wave of delighted murmurs swept the room.

Ye Mian put down her pen, closed her notebook, and, with her meal card in hand, left the classroom.

She was never a picky eater, and the university cafeteria was much tastier than her high school’s. She looked forward to lunch every day.

To get to the cafeteria, you had to pass the basketball court.

Ye Mian walked slowly, eyes fixed straight ahead, never glancing sideways.

As if drawn by some invisible thread.

Jiang Chen, sitting on the steps, happened to look up and saw the girl in a white dress step into his line of sight.

At this hour, the sun hung high in the sky, beams of light threading through the leaves, casting starry shadows over the boy’s striking features.

He raised his brows, his gaze shifting to the person standing before the girl.

Tsk.