The game was more intense than expected, the sound of sneakers squeaking against the floorboards echoing sharply in the chilly air. Xi Liye played with total focus. High-statured and steady in his ball-handling, he made several quick counterattacks after steals, drawing low cheers from the small crowd at the sidelines.
Being socially anxious, Wen Chu didn’t dare shout his name. Instead, she pulled out her phone. Her fingers were stiff from the cold, making every tap a struggle:
Wen Chu: It’s so cold out here. Are you really not cold wearing so little?
Wen Chu: That guy bumped into you so hard just now! Is your arm okay?
Wen Chu: Are you sweating? You’re going to catch a cold. Do you want to take a break?
The teammates gathered at the sidelines, steam rising from their heads as they gulped hot water from thermos flasks handed to them. Xi Liye walked over as well, his damp bangs plastered against his brow.
He picked up his phone and glanced at Wen Chu’s messages. Without reaching for water first, his gaze swept the sidelines until it locked onto her, and he walked straight toward her.
Wen Chu immediately held up the mineral water and the chocolate, her voice muffled behind her scarf. “For you.”
Xi Liye came to a halt in front of her, breathing slightly hard. He looked at the items in her hands for two seconds before taking the water. The bottle was lukewarm. He twisted it open and took a few swigs, his Adam’s apple bobbing. Only then did he look at the chocolate.
“I don’t eat sweets,” he said, his voice slightly raspy with the post-exercise heat.
“Ah? Oh…”
“Then I’ll just eat it myself,” she said, stuffing the chocolate into her own pocket.
But Xi Liye suddenly reached out. He wasn’t reaching for the chocolate; instead, he used his knuckle to lightly brush the tip of her nose, which was peeking out from her scarf.
“Ice cold,” he noted succinctly. Then, he took the athletic jacket draped over his arm and handed it to her. “Put it on.”
Wen Chu: “???” She looked at the thin-looking jacket, then at her own thick down coat. “…I’m not cold.”
“Your nose is red.” Without leaving room for argument, Xi Liye tucked the jacket into her arms. The fabric still held his lingering post-exercise body heat, feeling warm and toasty. “You were standing in a draft. Put it on.”
A teammate walked by zipping up his own jacket and grinned at the sight. “Brother Xi, look at you, learning how to pamper someone!”
Xi Liye ignored him, simply watching Wen Chu hug the jacket in a daze. “We’re done here,” he added. “Wait for me while I change in the locker room, then we’ll head back.”
Wen Chu: “Ah? Oh… okay.”
Xi Liye gave a nod and turned toward the locker room. After two steps, he stopped and looked back at her. “Follow me.”
Wen Chu: “…?”
“You want to stand out here and blow in the wind?” His brow quirked slightly, his tone flat. “There’s a bench outside the locker room.”
Oh, so he’s worried about me freezing.
Wen Chu reacted a beat late, hugging the jacket and trotting after him. Xi Liye slowed his pace to walk side-by-side with her. He was tall with a long stride, but he walked slowly to match her. There was a small gap between them, yet Wen Chu could still feel the heat radiating from him, mixed with a clean, athletic scent of sweat that drifted over in waves.
The locker room was on the side of the gymnasium, and sure enough, there was an old wooden bench by the door. Xi Liye led her to it. “Sit and wait.”
“Okay.” Wen Chu sat down obediently, still clutching his jacket.
Xi Liye looked at her, appearing as if he wanted to say something, but ultimately he just pursed his lips and pushed through the door.
The door shut, cutting off the noise and the warmth from inside. Wen Chu sat alone on the bench, listening to the distant, muffled sounds of basketballs and shouting. She looked down at the jacket in her lap.
How did I end up agreeing to come here? What if other guys see me? It’ll be so awkward.
Just as her thoughts were spiraling, the door opened.
Xi Liye stepped out. He had changed out of his jersey and was back in the black hoodie he’d arrived in, which looked quite form-fitting. He held a gym bag. Seeing Wen Chu still sitting there dutifully, gripping her phone with her mind clearly miles away, he paused.
“Let’s go,” he said, reaching out to pat her head.
Wen Chu stood up abruptly and handed the jacket back. “Your clothes.”
Xi Liye took it and pulled it on. “Are you still cold?” he asked, his eyes scanning her face.
“I-I’m okay.” Wen Chu pulled her scarf up a bit higher.
“Mhm.” Xi Liye didn’t say more, turning to lead the way out of the gymnasium.
“Where are we going?” Wen Chu couldn’t help but ask.
“A new Tanghulu (candied hawthorn) stall opened just outside the campus. I think you’ll like it,” Xi Liye said.
“Tang… Tanghulu?” Her voice wavered slightly.
“Mhm.” Xi Liye glanced at her, the streetlights casting a long shadow from his eyelashes. “I passed by the other day and saw a lot of guys buying them for their girlfriends.”
“Oh…” Wen Chu chirped. “Then I want one too! Whatever other girlfriends have, I want it too!”
“Okay.”
Wen Chu couldn’t shake the feeling that Xi Liye had planned this trip long ago.
“But won’t there be a lot of people?” Wen Chu hesitated. Ever since the male lead found out she was afraid of crowds, she hadn’t bothered to hide it. After all, they might be together for a while; if they went to crowded places every time, she really wouldn’t be able to take it.
Xi Liye laughed. It was rare to hear him actually laugh out loud—the sound was like a feather brushing against her eardrum, light and tingly.
“Then ‘stay right here and do not move while I go buy you some Tanghulu’?” Xi Liye leaned down, teasing her.
Wen Chu: “……”
Her brain short-circuited for three seconds.
That line… that phrasing… why is the sense of déjà vu so strong? (Note: This is a famous line from the classic Chinese essay “The Sight of My Father’s Back” by Zhu Ziqing, often used as a “dad joke” to imply the speaker is the other person’s father.)
“You’re taking advantage of me, Xi Liye!” Wen Chu blurted out. The “cold and gloomy male lead” filter from the original book shattered into a million pieces.
Whether it was from the cold or pure indignation, her cheeks felt hot. Perhaps it was because Xi Liye’s temper had been so good around her lately, but she didn’t even think before stepping closer, standing on her tiptoes to try and swat his shoulder in a fit of playful embarrassment.
But she forgot she was dressed like a giant marshmallow and vastly overestimated her own athletic coordination.
The moment her toes left the ground and her arm was halfway through the swing, her wrist was easily caught by a warm palm. Immediately after, an irresistible force traveled up her arm. She lost her balance and pitched forward—
Instead of the expected fall, she crashed solidly into a chest that smelled of the crisp winter air and a faint scent of soap.
Xi Liye’s arm swept around her, loosely encircling her padded back, catching her perfectly. Wen Chu’s cheek was pressed against the knit of the sweater beneath his jacket; she could feel the firm, warm chest underneath and the steady thrum of his heartbeat. He was so tall that being half-wrapped in his arms like this left her still slightly on her tiptoes, a posture both awkward and humiliating.
Wen Chu’s mind went blank. Her nose was filled with his clean, fresh scent, and her wrist was still gripped in his hand—she could feel her pulse racing wildly against his palm.
“You want to hit me?” Xi Liye’s voice drifted down from above, that trace of subtle teasing returning.
Wen Chu snapped back to her senses and began to struggle as if she’d been burned.
“Let—let go!” Her voice was muffled against his clothes, frantic and shy.
Xi Liye followed her lead and let go of his hold on her back and her wrist. Wen Chu immediately scrambled back two steps, nearly tripping over her own feet before steadying herself. Her entire face was flushed deep red—half from shame, half from anger. Her scarf had come loose, letting the cold wind rush down her neck, but it couldn’t cool the heat in her face.
“Why did you hug me?” Wen Chu muttered awkwardly. Weren’t we supposed to be just a cannon fodder girlfriend and the male lead?
“Wen Chu,” he called her name. “Aren’t you my girlfriend?”
Wen Chu was speechless.