But soon, a twinge of irritation crept into his mind.
He was sitting right there beside her, yet she showed absolutely no interest in him.
Instead, she was interested in some faceless stranger she’d met online, and a single photo had her blushing and her heart racing.
Even though that photo was of him.
He was still annoyed.
He put his phone away and stopped replying to the private messages.
When Lin Xuechun saw that the other person had stopped responding, she also put her phone away.
She had only been casually flirting anyway—the presence of the guy on her right was too overwhelming, and she needed something to do to distract herself.
Without her phone, she placed both hands on the desk, straightened her back, and pretended to listen to the lecture very attentively.
Every now and then, she’d pick up her pen and jot down a few notes in the book.
The class was nearing its end.
The teacher assigned the semester’s assessment project.
“Choose one of these topics, form a group of 2-4 people, and submit a report. The group project will account for 80% of your final grade, with the remaining 20% being attendance.”
“You have five minutes before class ends. Feel free to form your teams.”
The moment those words left his mouth, the classroom erupted into noise.
Everyone was looking around or standing up to find teammates.
Lin Xuechun had done almost all her group projects with Zhou Xinran, and with Zhou Xinran’s boyfriend, that made three members—enough to complete the assignment.
She was just about to send a WeChat message to Zhou Xinran when Zhou Xinran messaged her first: “Babe, rope in that handsome guy next to you and let’s form a four-person squad!”
Lin Xuechun: “Do you have eyes in the back of your head? How do you know there’s a handsome guy next to me?”
Zhou Xinran: “Hehe, how could a handsome guy ever escape my notice! Go get him, babe!”
After sending the message, Zhou Xinran turned around from the front row and winked at Lin Xuechun, signaling her to hurry up.
Lin Xuechun put down her phone and glanced hesitantly to her right.
The guy was lounging casually against the back of his chair, his loose gray hoodie stretched into shape by his broad shoulders.
The sleeves were pushed up, revealing a stretch of smooth, taut forearm with a prominent wrist bone, a black sports watch hugging his wrist—lean yet radiating strength, with a boyish handsomeness.
His profile was sharp and cold, every curve and angle of his features like the creator showing off.
Just objectively handsome.
Lin Xuechun looked away and silently rehearsed her words in her head.
Hey, want to team up?
Want to team up?
It was just a simple invitation, but she couldn’t seem to get the words out. Her teeth nervously nibbled on her lower lip, and her slender fingers on the desk curled slightly as she unconsciously picked at the surface.
She had none of the boldness she had when chatting online.
Just as she was hesitating, a girl from Zhou Xinran’s row got up from her seat and started walking toward the back row.
Zhou Xinran frantically signaled her with her eyes.
Babe, go! First come, first served!
Lin Xuechun steeled herself, took a deep breath, and turned to her right:
“Hey, want to team up? We already have three members.”
After she said it, her cheeks inexplicably felt warm, and she struggled to keep her gaze steady on him without letting her eyes wander.
Just talking to him, and she’s this shy?
Her face is already red.
She’s so bold when she’s online.
“Sure.”
Xi Chenzhou’s gaze swept over her flushed cheeks, his voice low with a crisp, slightly raspy quality.
Lin Xuechun hadn’t expected him to agree so readily. She was a beat slow in picking up her phone: “Then… should we add each other on WeChat? I’ll make a group.”
Xi Chenzhou’s phone was already in his hand. He swiped the screen to unlock it: “Should I scan you, or you scan me?”
His tone was lazy, his manner nonchalant.
Lin Xuechun tapped the scan function, a thin line sliding up and down on her screen: “I’ll scan you.”
Xi Chenzhou pulled up his QR code, flipped his phone around, and angled the screen toward her.
Ding.
After Lin Xuechun scanned it, her phone screen jumped to his profile page. His WeChat name was XCZ.
Lin Xuechun wrote her name and major in the greeting field, then sent a friend request.
It was approved instantly, but he didn’t send his name over.
“Hey, your name and major—so I can note them down.”
“Xi Chenzhou, Computer Science.”
Lin Xuechun had never heard this surname before. But she didn’t know exactly which characters it used, so she bit her lip and looked at him with a troubled expression: “…How do you write it?”
Xi Chenzhou leaned slightly toward her, closing the distance between them, and looked down at her phone screen.
The space between them suddenly shrank.
Lin Xuechun instantly felt enveloped by a wave of warmth.
Are all guys this hot?
Just being a little closer makes it feel so warm.
And what laundry detergent does he use? The scent is actually quite nice—a cool, faint fragrance.
Lin Xuechun’s thoughts scattered in all directions as her slender fingers tapped on her phone screen, typing out the pinyin of his name.
Xi Chenzhou’s gaze landed on her hands.
Her fingers were delicate and slender, her wrist so thin it looked like less than half the width of his own.
His gaze drifted upward. Her nose was small and pert, her soft red lips gently pressed together, looking both delicate and adorable.
His eyes returned to the screen.
Not a single character under the string of pinyin she’d typed was correct.
“Give me your phone.” The corner of his lips curved up slightly, finding this somewhat amusing.
Lin Xuechun let out an “oh” and obediently handed over her phone.
When most people hold a phone for a long time, the sweat and heat from their hands transfer onto it, making it sticky and clammy. Xi Chenzhou had a bit of a cleanliness obsession—he didn’t particularly like touching other people’s phones, nor did he like others touching his.
But her phone was unexpectedly smooth and dry. Holding it in his hand, he felt not the slightest hint of aversion.
His fingertip moved swiftly across her screen.
His fingers were long, with clean, defined knuckles, nails trimmed neatly and rounded. Faint veins and tendons lay just beneath the cool, pale skin of the back of his hand, exuding a restrained, powerful elegance.
Watching a pair of hands like that, Lin Xuechun’s mind uncontrollably flashed to the fingertips of the male leads in the otome games she’d played…
A faint blush crept across her cheeks, and her breath grew a little tight.
“Done.” Xi Chenzhou finished typing the name and handed the phone back to her.
Lin Xuechun snapped back to reality. As she took the phone back, her fingertips accidentally brushed against his. Their skin touched ever so lightly—a brief, fleeting contact—but both of them paused for a split second in that moment.
Lin Xuechun grabbed her phone and curled her fingers inward. Several seconds passed, and her fingertips still felt scorching hot.
What was his body temperature, anyway?
How could a single touch burn like this?
Xi Chenzhou naturally lowered his hand, the finger that had touched hers curling almost imperceptibly. Her fingertips had been cool, like jade.
With his other hand, he picked up his own phone and swiped the screen to look at the greeting message she’d sent.
So her name was Lin Xuechun.
Then he glanced at her WeChat name—Little Snow Not So Pure.
Cough, cough, cough…
He nearly choked on his own saliva.
That name was bold enough, alright.
And her Douyin name was Chunchun Loves Meat.
She looked like a little white rabbit, yet she loved meat.
What kind of meat, exactly?