Li Wu hadn’t expected to run into Wan Chun here. After answering the question reflexively, the girl’s bright, energetic smile dimmed slightly, but she didn’t ask anything more. She just said “I won’t disturb you then” and walked past.
Li Wu immediately looked back at his phone.
The screen showed only the chat window – Cen Jin had ended the video call.
He hurriedly replied: Why did you hang up?
Cen Jin: You were talking with your classmate.
Li Wu: She’s not my classmate, we just exchanged a few words.
His serious, eager-to-explain demeanor was amusing. Cen Jin said: I’m not jealous or angry.
Li Wu became dejected instead: Why not?
Cen Jin laughed: What do you mean why not? Why would I be jealous of normal conversation?
Li Wu: Then I’ll talk longer next time.
Cen Jin sent an emoji of hands wielding a large knife: I’ll chop you!
Li Wu, having achieved his goal, was so happy he wanted to immediately deliver himself to her for whatever torment she chose: Oh.
Back in his dorm room, Li Wu sat at his desk, opened his laptop to read some papers, and then took out his phone to review his chat history with Cen Jin.
He propped his face with one hand while scrolling with the other, occasionally letting out soft chuckles.
Since school started, this had been his default state every day outside of studying and sleeping. His peony dorm mates could only watch with irritated teeth and itching fists, unable to criticize too much.
Finally, Zhong Wenxuan couldn’t take it anymore: “Li Wu, can you finish laughing in the hallway before coming back in?”
Li Wu immediately suppressed his emotions, flipped his phone face-down, and stared at his computer expressionlessly.
“You guys have it good,” Xu Shuo was also at his wit’s end: “I have to face this guy in the lab too, and I haven’t said anything.”
“I’m sorry, okay?” Li Wu couldn’t maintain his silent mode any longer and hurried to apologize to his roommates.
Xu Shuo seized the opportunity to inquire: “Who are you dating? Not someone from our school, right?”
Li Wu gave him a bland look: “The sister you and Zhong Wenxuan met during freshman orientation.”
“Holy shit?” “No way!”
The words hit like thunder from clear skies, sending the entire male dormitory into an uproar.
Zhong Wenxuan abandoned his game, eyebrows dancing with teasing admiration: “You got yourself a sugar mommy?”
The comment wasn’t pleasant to hear. Li Wu frowned slightly: “It’s just normal dating.”
Xu Shuo thought about the sister’s appearance: “How old is she? 26, 27?”
Li Wu paused for a second: “Thirty.”
His roommates’ jaws dropped as they howled in unison.
This kind of relationship, usually only seen in certain special works, excited these hot-blooded young men immensely. Even after lights out, they continued chattering, wanting to dig deeper.
“I thought there was something between you two last year.”
“How did you end up together?”
“Did you pursue her? Damn, is this what being a top student means? Even your taste is different from normal people.”
“Li Wu, do you still have your virginity?”
“What’s it like dating a woman that age? Must be amazing, right?”
“Be careful, she might just want your body since you’re so handsome.”
…
Their questions became increasingly inappropriate, their discussion more and more outrageous, finally revolving exclusively around matters below the belt. Li Wu listened until his face burned red, lying in bed like a corpse, unwilling to respond with even half a word.
―
As summer heat gradually retreated, autumn quietly infiltrated the human world, laying a new foundation color for the city – the bleakness of rainy days and the warm gold of clear ones.
After completing her department transfer, Cen Jin officially became an account manager.
She was immediately handed two projects – a cosmetics brand and a payment app. Just as she finished dealing with one side, she had to report to the other. Every day was spent arguing with various parties – suppliers, media, clients, colleagues, bosses, finance. She was on 24-hour standby handling all calls and messages, barely able to squeeze in time for a paid bathroom break.
Sometimes her subconscious identity hadn’t fully changed, and she would involuntarily try to get involved in creative matters. Teddy would then sharply rebuke this traitor: “Just be a good switchboard operator and do your job.” Cen Jin naturally wouldn’t back down: “Should I mention how your copy isn’t as good as what I could write with my eyes closed?”
After a chaotic month, Cen Jin was mentally and physically exhausted. Every day after work she was too tired to speak, having spent all her energy on words during the day.
After one failed attempt to convince a client to increase their budget, Cen Jin collapsed back onto the sofa, closed her eyes, and wanted to throw her phone into the toilet and flush it away, never to wake again.
The phone vibrated again.
Cen Jin felt a surge of anger, but upon seeing the caller’s name, her mood brightened. Still, she hesitated before answering, “Hello…”
Hearing her voice so lifeless and weak, he also lowered his tone: “Another exhausting day?”
Cen Jin gave a soft “mm.”
“Should I come back tomorrow?”
Cen Jin pressed her lips together, afraid to disappoint him: “But I have meetings all day tomorrow, and after work, I have to take clients to dinner. You might be asleep by the time I get back.”