Chapter Forty

“If only Chen Siyu and the others were here, it wouldn’t just be the two of us,” Lin Zimo said.

“This situation will pass soon enough,” Lin Ling replied, sipping her coffee. “I wonder when we’ll see everyone again.”

Outside, the pandemic was improving. In another week or month, people might be able to go out without masks. Wearing a mask every day meant constantly breathing in the air you exhaled yourself.

Lin Zimo gazed out the window. Unknowingly, two weeks had already slipped by. What was Yuxingyue doing now, she wondered?

Lin Ling set down her teacup and smiled. “Zimo, it seems you’re thinking about someone. Will you tell your senior who it is?”

Lin Zimo panicked, her cheeks turning crimson. “Senior, you must be misunderstanding something.”

“You can fool yourself but not others. Just one sentence and I’ve got you—look at you blushing. You’re definitely thinking about someone. My intuition never fails,” Lin Ling teased mischievously.

Seeing how Lin Ling reasoned so confidently, Lin Zimo knew there was no point in arguing. “You truly are my senior. I hope you can keep this secret for me.”

“Go on, who are you thinking about?”

“Well…” Lin Zimo faltered. “You know him, senior. You’ve met him before.”

“You mean… Hugo? Yuxingyue?”

Lin Zimo nodded. “Yes, him. I don’t know when I started being drawn to this boy with his stubbornly masculine ways. He’s not particularly handsome, yet somehow he stands out.”

“You like Hugo? That’s big news! Why don’t you just tell him how you feel?” Lin Ling pressed.

“I haven’t had the chance,” Lin Zimo replied with a wry smile. “It’s complicated. He doesn't like girls who wear heavy makeup.”

Lin Ling was speechless. Was it really just because of makeup? Yuxingyue simply disliked heavy cosmetics, but it wasn’t as if he disliked Lin Zimo herself. Lin Ling found Lin Zimo’s explanation a little confusing, but understood enough to analyze the situation. From what Lin Zimo said, Yuxingyue was simply oblivious to such matters for now; to pursue him was impossible unless, perhaps, after he turned eighteen he might begin to understand.

Lin Ling chuckled softly. “Silly girl, it’s not what you think. Makeup isn’t the main issue, it’s your feelings that matter. As long as you express them, Hugo will notice you, but the timing isn’t right yet.”

“So the timing really isn’t right?” Lin Zimo asked, head bowed.

Lin Ling moved beside her and smiled. “Not exactly. You’re right that he’s a bit clueless—it takes time. It’s like me and Wu Guanzhong; feelings are honed through time. My parents say they want me to marry him in the future.”

Lin Zimo, curious as a gossip reporter, looked at Lin Ling with wide-eyed interest. “Really? Is that true? That’s major news! Let’s talk about you now, senior, not me.”

Lin Ling shared everything, and now Lin Zimo understood—Lin Ling and Wu Guanzhong were together, and her parents wanted her to marry him.

“In general, I’m quite satisfied with him,” Lin Ling said slowly, unhurried. “At first, I thought he was a strange, not very smart guy, but after just a month, he seemed impossibly handsome. He’s my knight in shining armor.”

Lin Zimo grew even more curious. “So you really plan to spend your future with Wu Guanzhong?”

“Wait and see. One day I’ll introduce you to him—maybe you’ll feel his charm too.”

“You’re exaggerating, senior, but I like it,” Lin Zimo said, her mischievous expression startling Lin Ling.

“Don’t you dare try to steal my man. He’s mine!” Lin Ling warned.

“He’s your age. Do you really think someone my age would be interested?” Lin Zimo replied.

Lin Ling thought about it and realized Lin Zimo had a point. Wu Guanzhong didn’t like girls younger than himself; Lin Ling was the thorny rose in his heart.

The two chatted about men. Lin Zimo didn't know much, but Lin Ling remembered her experiences with Wu Guanzhong, and the conversation about men was lively and satisfying.

“There’s a saying—women’s hearts are as deep as the sea, and now, men’s hearts are as close as their undershirts,” Lin Zimo remarked.

“I’ve never heard that one,” Lin Ling said, puzzled. “Did you make that up?”

“It’s just something I thought of—it sounds nice.”

“You’re not entirely wrong,” Lin Ling mused. “Men can seem cold as stone but have a gentle side, too. Strong men’s hearts are like that undershirt you mentioned; weak ones are just pretty faces.”

Lin Zimo paused, then said, “You make sense, senior. Are you not fond of romance?”

“That’s not it—it’s just my perspective. I don’t want to impose my views on you. Your happiness is something you must pursue yourself,” Lin Ling said.

“Senior, I have another question I'd like to ask,” Lin Zimo said, lowering her head.

“Go ahead, I’ll answer if I can.”

“Well…” Lin Zimo hesitated. “Are you happy now? I’m not sure I understand.”

…

Huang Feifan was playing a game called ‘Two Hundred Fifty’s Battle,’ finally defeating the king with 233 stars. His skill had improved, but it wasn’t something to celebrate. Zhang Yi still hadn’t fully recovered; no matter how good Huang Feifan was, if teammates had issues, the team wasn’t complete.

After logging off, he opened QQ on his computer, bored and looking for Chen Siyu to chat. Aside from her, everyone else’s avatar was gray.

“What are you up to? [wave]”

“Sleeping. [snoring]”

“I won’t bother you, then. I’ll go find someone else.”

“You’ve already woken me—how could I sleep now? [angry]” Chen Siyu replied.

“Then chat with me. I’m bored. [grinning]”

Chen Siyu, helpless, got up and picked up her phone to chat with Huang Feifan. She was talking to the boy she secretly liked, and this time Huang Feifan reached out first. If her avatar had been gray, he probably would have chatted with someone else.

“So, do you have something to tell me?” Chen Siyu began.

“No, just wanted to chat. [funny]”

“That’s not funny. Tell me the truth!”

“Honestly, nothing. I just habitually add a ‘funny’ emoji.”

“…”

“My situation is simple, just…”

“Just what? [confused]” Chen Siyu replied.

Huang Feifan thought for a while, then quickly typed, “Just wondering, after the Tianyuan Team disbands, will we still meet again?”

Chen Siyu was silent after reading his question. Indeed, all gatherings must eventually end, but perhaps so that better meetings can occur. After a while, she replied, “That depends on our will. If we love this place, the Tianyuan Team will always be here. Would we let anyone else break our spirit?”

“No! Certainly not,” Huang Feifan replied.

“See? None of us will be defeated by hardship. Facing difficulties together is how we show our virtue.”

“But… will that day really come?”

Chen Siyu didn’t reply, pondering if things would really unfold as Huang Feifan suggested. It was a minor question, not a bother to everyone, but still not to be ignored.

Huang Feifan wrote, “Sigh, I wanted this to be a cheerful chat, but I lowered the mood.”

Chen Siyu replied, “No, not really. You’re just doubting before anything has happened. Let’s drop this topic and talk about something else.”

After reading Chen Siyu’s words, Huang Feifan tried hard to find something else to talk about, but his mind was blank, embarrassed by his lack of ideas. Seeing no reply, Chen Siyu quickly typed, “Then let’s talk about what I wrote on your hand before.”

That triggered Huang Feifan’s memories—he’d been reading alone in the classroom when Chen Siyu disturbed him, then wrote three characters on his palm and let him figure out the meaning. To this day, he hadn’t found the answer.

Now that they had a topic, Huang Feifan asked, “What did you write on my hand before? Can you tell me now?”

“Well, have you still not guessed?”