Shen Hua’s movements froze, caught off guard.
She collected her thoughts, calmed down, and turned back to look at him. After confirming he was serious, she said, “I’m available whenever I don’t have classes.”
Zhou Yunting raised an eyebrow and pressed further, “What’s your major?”
“Cello, in the Music Department.”
“Mm.” Zhou Yunting hummed in acknowledgment, his gaze fixed on her face. He then asked, “Aren’t you going to give me your contact info?”
Shen Hua was taken aback again. She pulled out her phone from her bag. “I just arrived in Hong Kong not long ago, so I haven’t set up WhatsApp or Facebook yet… I only have WeChat. Do you have an account?”
Zhou Yunting said, “I do.”
On her way back to the dorm, Shen Hua still felt light on her feet.
She had thought meeting Lin Qinghuai this one time would be the end of it, but looking down at her phone, she saw the newly added WeChat contact. The account name was just a simple “Z.”
She stared at that letter for a moment, puzzled, unable to guess its meaning, then figured he probably just typed something random—no need to overthink it.
She tapped into his Moments, only to find it completely empty, even his profile picture was the default gray icon.
On the other hand, her own Moments was a mess of photos and updates from high school to now, none deleted.
That meant if Lin Qinghuai wanted to, he could see all her joys and sorrows.
For some reason, Shen Hua felt a little embarrassed.
But it didn’t matter. She might have been foolish, silly, wild, and unruly as a kid, but she was never ugly.
Just as she reached the dorm, she ran into Xu Manjin, who was coming out to get water. Xu Manjin was wearing a pair of black-rimmed glasses. When she saw Shen Hua, she yelped in surprise.
“Why are you back so early?”
Startled, Shen Hua quickly covered her mouth. “Keep your voice down!”
Xu Manjin seemed to catch on. Her face fell. “Did it flop?”
“No,” Shen Hua released her. “He asked to meet again and added me on WeChat.”
“What?” Xu Manjin perked up. “Let me see.”
Shen Hua handed over her phone. Xu Manjin leaned in, studying the account name “Z” for a long time.
She noticed the WeChat account had nothing on it.
Xu Manjin figured big shots were always mysterious.
She started peppering Shen Hua with questions, like how the evening had gone.
Shen Hua went into the room to put down her bag. “I’ll tell you downstairs.”
The two walked slowly along the path near the dorm building, and Shen Hua spilled everything about the night.
After hearing it all, Xu Manjin doubled over, clutching her stomach as she laughed by the roadside. “Shen Hua, you’re incredible!”
“What did I do?” Shen Hua was baffled.
“You kept him on edge!” Xu Manjin slapped her shoulder, laughing so hard she could barely stand.
“No wonder you’re Su Daji. You’re a beast.”
Shen Hua didn’t get it.
Xu Manjin explained, “Your killer move is all in the ‘casualness’!”
Shen Hua and Zhou Yunting’s second meeting was set at a movie theater.
Since Zhou Yunting took the initiative to ask Shen Hua, “Where do you want to go?”
Shen Hua didn’t know what else to do, so she suggested watching a movie.
At the theater, Shen Hua picked a well-reviewed comedy.
They ended up in the very last row.
As soon as they sat down, Shen Hua felt something was off.
The entire screening room was completely empty—just the two of them.
She didn’t dwell on it, assuming the film just had bad timing and wasn’t popular.
But the moment the movie started, Shen Hua was completely lost.
The dialogue was all in Cantonese, and the subtitles were in traditional characters.
It was exhausting to follow.
Halfway through the film, Shen Hua had already given up.
Bored, and not wanting to ruin the movie for the other person, she pulled out her phone.
The moment the screen lit up, a cold, pale light flickered in the darkness.
Zhou Yunting had no interest in the film anyway.
Noticing the light, he glanced sideways. With his sharp eyesight, he immediately made out the content on Shen Hua’s phone screen.
She was typing in a group chat called “Loving Family,” while a few images popped up at the top of the screen—a full table of home-cooked dishes, lively and inviting. She kept typing “Want to eat, want to eat, want to eat,” even the punctuation carried a childlike craving.
A faint, almost imperceptible smile tugged at the corner of Zhou Yunting’s mouth.
Before he could look away, Shen Hua finished sending her message and, feeling a bit guilty, shot a quick glance his way.
Their eyes met directly.
Shen Hua’s ears immediately turned red.
It felt like being caught misbehaving by the homeroom teacher.
As a kid, she was most afraid of teachers, because she was both the best student in class and the most unruly. She couldn’t help it—the circles she ran with were full of privileged delinquents from wealthy, powerful families.
But they all had surprisingly good grades.
Each one secretly worked hard.
Too bad only she got into Hong Kong University.
Back to reality.
Zhou Yunting had already turned his head at some point, his profile lit by the screen’s glow—half bright, half shadowed. Only the depth in his eyes was darker than the ink of the night, even dimmer than when he had been watching the film in the dark earlier.
That gaze landed on her face, carrying a hint of scrutiny, mixed with an unreadable heaviness.
Shen Hua saw it and felt her heart tighten. “Am I bothering you?”
“No,” Zhou Yunting said.
Shen Hua thought his voice sounded hoarser than before.
For no apparent reason.
The atmosphere suddenly grew tense. At first, Shen Hua forced herself to stay calm, but then she instinctively began to explain. “I can’t follow the movie—it’s all in Cantonese, and the subtitles are traditional characters…”
Zhou Yunting’s eyes darkened slightly, his Adam’s apple bobbing subtly. He replied, “That was my oversight.”
Shen Hua smiled and said, “It’s oka—”
Before she could finish the last word, the man’s expression suddenly turned thick and heavy.
Shen Hua’s smile vanished.
In that moment, the theater was empty except for the two of them, plunged into a darkness so deep you couldn’t see your hand in front of your face. Combined with the man beside her, it seemed like he was deliberately pushing things forward. An undercurrent began to stir.
Zhou Yunting wasn’t actually doing anything.
He just let his eyes deepen.
It was a natural reaction.
A man’s very natural reaction to a woman he was interested in.
He simply didn’t bother hiding it anymore.
And just like that, it seemed the other person was already overwhelmed.
Which was strange.
Unless she wasn’t interested in him, or she had some other reservations.
Out of politeness and curiosity, his thin lips curled into a faint smile laced with a teasing, husky undertone.
He asked, “Not interested in taking things further with me?”
A very pleasant voice.
A very shameless question.
Hearing this, Shen Hua’s heart began to race.
Her voice softened as she countered, “What do you mean by ‘further’…?”
“What would you like it to mean?”
“…I don’t know.”
“You don’t know?”
The man let out a low chuckle, then suddenly leaned over, gripping her chin.
The distance between them instantly shrank.
The pleasant scent of cedar on him enveloped her like a net, weighing her down.
It almost choked her breath away.
It was this move that made Zhou Yunting reconsider his earlier thoughts.
Up close, he could see the tips of her ears turning red beneath her hair.
And the skin beneath his fingertips.
Burning hot.
Delicate.
Beautiful.
It made him want to wreck it, ravage it, go all in.
He forcibly suppressed the surging desire.
His voice dropped even lower, almost brushing against her ear, and he said, “Take a guess—what do I mean?”
Shen Hua’s mind went blank.
She had never been this close to a man before.
She could even see the fine stitching on his shirt collar, and smell the faint woody undertone mixed with the cedar in his scent.
When he spoke, his warm breath grazed her earlobe, like a feather lightly brushing past, or a small branding iron scalding her, setting her ear ablaze again, along with her cheeks.
Shen Hua stood frozen, forgetting even to breathe.
She just looked at him, dazed.
Zhou Yunting thought the scene was too visually striking.
Her shyness paired with a face that could steal souls.
Skin as white as snow, her lips pressed into a vivid splash of color from nervousness.
Even the red tips of her ears carried an unconscious, seductive charm.
That hint of timid embarrassment only made her face more alluring.
Like a dew-laden mandrake bloom.
Innocent and provocative, enough to make one’s heart clench.
So, he said,
“Still don’t get it?”
“I want to kiss you.”