It Seems Like My Senior Seems to Like Me - Chapter 2

“Now, please welcome the president of the College of Veterinary Medicine’s student council, Pei Suye, to give a speech.”

The host’s voice rang through the speakers, followed by thunderous applause welcoming the No.1 “seed academy’s” student council president, Pei Suye.

She wore a white lab coat symbolizing animal experiments, with a light blue dress underneath. The shirt collar was crisp and flat, buttoned all the way up to the top. Her long neck resembled an elegant swan gliding across a still lake.

With practiced ease, she stood before the microphone. Her gaze toward the audience was generous and proper, lips curved in a smile:

“Respected leaders, teachers, and all freshmen juniors, good afternoon.”

Her gentle voice flowed like an autumn stream—warm, delicate, and calm.

At the A1 entrance, on guard duty, Wei Xiaoxiao pulled out her phone and secretly snapped photo after photo, zooming in for close-ups of the figure on stage.

“Whoa, so she’s the student council president? … She’s literally a legendary figure!”

Standing across from her, Ye Wanjia clearly wasn’t up to date with the gossip and asked blankly: “Is she really that impressive?”

“Impressive doesn’t even begin to cover it!”

Wei Xiaoxiao’s eyes widened. “You have to know—our veterinary medicine department is the biggest program in the whole school. The school leadership values it a lot! Whenever there’s a school-wide event, our department is always in the front row. Competing for student council president in our college is harder than running for the whole university’s student council!”

Ye Wanjia looked at her with admiration. “Xiaoxiao, we’ve only been here three days, and you already know all this. Amazing.”

Wei Xiaoxiao flicked her bangs with a showy orchid-finger gesture. “Hmph, of course. I lurked in the freshman group chat the whole summer, okay? Only thing is—the president looks so different from the photos people shared online. I almost didn’t recognize her. Damn, this is my first time seeing someone who’s even prettier in person than in photos! Amitabha, Amitabha…”

Prettier than her photos?

Ye Wanjia thought for a moment. Earlier, all her attention had been on the cinnabar mole on Pei Suye’s nose bridge, so she hadn’t really noticed her overall appearance. She tilted her head curiously toward the stage. From her angle, she could only see Pei Suye’s right profile.

Her wavy hair cascaded over her shoulders. Her jawline was smooth and defined, her lips moved steadily as she read the speech, her nose was elegant, her brows graceful. In the bright gymnasium lights, her side profile looked like a delicate medieval oil painting.

“Yes, she is beautiful,” Ye Wanjia concluded.

Remembering how she had kindly told them earlier to rest, Ye Wanjia felt her heart soften. “But she’s actually really approachable. She just told us to go rest. I thought student council presidents would be strict.”

“That depends on personality. Pei Suye clearly comes from a well-bred family. But if she managed to become president, she definitely isn’t some timid little rabbit.” Wei Xiaoxiao slipped into comic mode, unable to stop talking. “Just look at her outfit. Seems simple, but that dress inside? It’s from Oligado, costs over four thousand.”

“Four thousand?!”

Ye Wanjia gasped. Her own T-shirt for military training had been two for forty yuan from a street stall. “You’re amazing, being able to tell what brand she’s wearing at a glance.”

Wei Xiaoxiao waved her hand modestly. “I saw the logo, duh. Plus, my mom just opened an Oligado store, so of course I know it.”

Then, remembering Ye Wanjia’s poor family background, she quickly added: “But hey, it doesn’t matter. Rich or poor, we’re all here studying. It’s not like the school gives me extra points just because my mom opened a store. You’re so hardworking—who knows, maybe in two years, you’ll be the one up there giving the speech.”

Ye Wanjia laughed, her round eyes curving into crescents. “How could that be? You’re just feeding me pipe dreams again.”

“How is that pipe dreams?” Wei Xiaoxiao protested dramatically. “Besides, your names even match! Both have ‘Ye’ in them. Why can she stand on stage as Pei Suye, but you can’t as Ye Wanjia?”

At the mention of the word “Ye,” Ye Wanjia nodded thoughtfully, her expression the same as when she used to ponder tough questions in class back in senior high.

“Hmm, that’s anadiplosis,” she said.

Wei Xiaoxiao’s brows scrunched. “A what?”

“Anadiplosis. A rhetorical device.”

“Never heard of it. How does it work?”

“Pei Suye, Ye Wanjia. I link to her.”

The words had barely left her mouth before Wei Xiaoxiao’s gossip radar lit up. She leaned back, eyes mischievous, as though she’d associated it with something decidedly more suggestive.

They’d only known each other three days, but Ye Wanjia recognized that look—it was the same expression Wei Xiaoxiao wore when cracking dirty jokes in the dorm.

Realizing what she’d just said, Ye Wanjia’s face turned red. She quickly explained:

“I meant the rhetorical device!”

One little off-color joke made the long, boring guard duty much livelier. Wei Xiaoxiao swung her legs on the empty steps and sighed:

“I heard the president’s got tons of admirers. Wonder what kind of person a goddess like her would fall for?”

Ye Wanjia thought aloud: “I don’t know, but probably someone outstanding too.”

Wei Xiaoxiao grinned. “Let me time-travel ten years into the future and come back to tell you the answer.”

Ye Wanjia shook her head. “Why skip to the last page when youth is so much fun?”

Applause once again filled the hall as Pei Suye finished her welcome speech. Amid the thunderous clapping, she smiled gently, bowed to the audience, and stepped down. The pure white lab coat carried an aura of sanctity. In the shifting lights, she seemed like a bamboo stalk draped in frost—cold yet graceful.

In that moment, a line of poetry came to Ye Wanjia’s heart:

“If I had never seen Suye clad in snow, where else in life could I find such a white-robed figure?”

Southzhou University’s veterinary medicine program ranked among the very best in the country. Countless students had fought through the fierce gaokao to earn one of its precious seats.

Ye Wanjia was lucky—so lucky that her whole college knew it.

“So you’re that jackpot winner!”

In Room 617 of Dorm Building 12, Wang Zhaodi let out a wail of protest:

“I’m from the same province as you, and I scored thirty points higher just to barely get into this program!”

Wei Xiaoxiao froze mid-sip of milk tea. “For real?”

“Of course!” Wang Zhaodi slapped the table. “In our dorm, I got 668, Yongmei 665, Xiaolan 673, Xiaoyu 680. Xiaoxiao’s from Jiangsu so her score system’s different, but it’s high too. Only you, Wanjia—you got 638!”

Ye Wanjia pressed her lips together and gave a wry smile. “I put Southzhou as my first choice. My score was kind of in-between—too low for guaranteed admission, too high to waste. I thought, why not gamble? Maybe I’d get lucky. And I really did.”

Wang Zhaodi pouted. “Ugh, what the hell. Thirty points on the gaokao is worth tens of thousands of people, and I scored that much higher than you—yet it didn’t matter at all.”

Grumbling, she stormed off to the office to hand in materials.

Left alone with Ye Wanjia, Wei Xiaoxiao grabbed her hand.

“Ye-god!” she said, squatting slightly and holding it up reverently.

“W-what are you doing?” Ye Wanjia blinked.

“You’re the ultimate lucky girl! Take me with you wherever you go—I need your luck to rub off on me!”

Where Wang Zhaodi saw resentment, Wei Xiaoxiao saw blessings. Even in the tense dorm atmosphere after Wanjia’s score was revealed, she could always defuse it with a single sentence.

Soon enough, even the nickname “jackpot queen” was transformed into “goddess of luck.”

“Good thing I repeated a year,” Wei Xiaoxiao laughed. “Otherwise I wouldn’t have met you. Imagine how much luck I’d be missing out on!”

By the fifth day of military training, the boys’ platoons began learning combat boxing, while the girls started dagger drills.

The instructors demonstrated each move with sharp precision, their dagger drills radiating authority. But in the freshmen’s clumsy imitation, it looked more like a drunken dance.

“Lower into the lunge! Then strike sideways—put strength in your arm!”

Sweat streamed down under the brims of their hats. The blazing sun made every movement exhausting, yet the group still hadn’t mastered the fourth move, struggling on under the instructor’s watchful eye.

Finally, when their breaths grew ragged, a team of rescuers appeared in sight.

“Hello, Instructor, we’re from the College of Veterinary Medicine’s student council. We’d like to give the freshmen some gifts.”

It was the student council, led by none other than President Pei Suye. Alongside her were Vice Presidents Liang Shangbin and Qiu Yan, Youth League deputy secretary Dong Fangcun, Party branch secretary Wen Dan, and head of life services Xu Qian. Each one was a top student, their presence radiating authority from afar.

Standing at the very front row, Ye Wanjia immediately spotted Pei Suye in the group.

Pei Suye was tall—around 170 cm. Today, she wore a plain white short-sleeved shirt with striped wide-leg trousers, looking neat and efficient. While others carried umbrellas or wore sunhats, she wore neither, her long hair tied back into a low ponytail. The cinnabar mole on her nose remained vivid, lending her an air of effortless elegance.

The gifts were usually simple—a bottle of water and some medicated oil—but this year, with more funding, each freshman also received a small handheld fan.

Once the instructor gave permission, the council members followed Pei Suye’s lead, distributing the gifts. For once, Ye Wanjia felt the true privilege of standing first in line—her water was handed to her personally by Pei Suye.

“You’re Ye…”

Pei Suye paused mid-motion, her beautiful eyes narrowing slightly as she recalled the freshman ceremony. She couldn’t remember the exact name.

Ye Wanjia quickly supplied: “Ye Wanjia. I was on guard duty at the freshman ceremony the other day.”

“Right, Ye Wanjia.” Pei Suye handed her the water. “Can I call you Little Leaf?”

Ye Wanjia froze. In that moment, happiness exploded in her chest. She finally believed Wei Xiaoxiao’s words—maybe she really was the goddess of luck.

“Y-yes, you can.”

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