It Seems Like My Senior Seems to Like Me - Chapter 20

The president of the Student Union, Du Bin, came to observe the Veterinary College’s training, only to witness a moment that shook everyone’s hearts.

The orderly rehearsal suddenly fell into a strange vortex. The music player that had been playing the break-time music was stopped. Everyone who had been sitting on the ground chatting sensed a subtle tension in the air, fell silent, and turned in unison toward the twenty stone steps ahead.

Standing in the middle of the ninth step was Pei Suye. The hem of her denim long skirt floated lightly in the night breeze, making her silhouette appear tall and statue-like.

She asked everyone to form up in ranks, her usually relaxed brows slightly knitted, her expression a little stern.

“Everyone, move closer. I need to talk to you about something.”

Ye Wanjia already knew the reason, so her curiosity went a step further than the others—how would Pei Suye explain it in a way that both calmed everyone’s emotions and persuaded them to keep practicing?

“I just received some news. Our final freeze-frame formation clashes with another college’s. The moves are very similar, and their team drew an earlier performance slot than us.”

Pei Suye stated the facts plainly. She didn’t use words like “plagiarism,” “theft,” or “leak,” which carried accusatory tones, but rather “clash,” carefully avoiding an explosion of resentment.

As soon as she finished, murmurs of surprise rose from the crowd.

“Huh?”

“How did that happen?”

“Just our luck…”

Even the Student Union president, Du Bin, commented that this was a tricky situation.

Next came the solution. The hardest part was that, after more than two weeks of grueling training, not everyone would be willing to start over and relearn moves.

So, Pei Suye laid out two options:

“Right now, we have two possible solutions. First, we don’t change anything—we stick to what we’ve practiced. It’s safe, but because we’re performing after them, our score may be lower. Second, we rework those moves, increase the difficulty, change the formation, and make the ‘Blooming Together’ move look even better. But if we do that, our training intensity will increase a lot.”

After all, the competition was the day after tomorrow, which meant they only had one day left.

When she finished, the thirty-member team fell into a heavy silence. For more than two weeks, they had trained every night after classes until ten o’clock. The exhaustion had been building up, and just when it seemed they could finally relax after setting the moves, the thought of reworking the last several eight-counts was a bitter pill to swallow.

After three seconds of silence, Ye Wanjia stepped forward from the middle.

“Senior, I support the second option.”

The students around her froze, turning to look. Her eyes were as clear and resolute as polished pebbles washed by rain, shining with determination. She continued:

“The cheerleading competition only happens once a year. If we miss this chance, we’ll regret it for an entire year. Being a little tired, a little exhausted, doesn’t matter. It’s only one day left—if we grit our teeth, we’ll get through it. Back during the college entrance exam, all of us made it through by gritting our teeth. I don’t want us to look back a year from now, or even ten years from now, and regret slacking off today.”

What does it mean to be eighteen? It means eating dinner at six and feeling hungry again by seven. It means staying up all night and still jumping around the next day. It means being crushed one second, then fully revived the next.

It means overflowing energy, surging passion, and no fear.

Sometimes, what a team needs is one bold voice to awaken everyone’s dormant fighting spirit. After Ye Wanjia finished, the other teammates quickly joined in.

“I agree, let’s change the formation!”

“It’s just one more day—let’s go all out!”

“Better than sitting here and waiting to fail.”

“President, just tell us how to change it, and we’ll get to work.”

And so, one after another, they echoed the call. When it came time to vote, “Option Two” passed unanimously. Even Chen Fangfang, who had leaked the formation to another college out of selfishness, raised her hand in favor.

After the decision, Pei Suye gave a reminder:

“But everyone, please keep the new moves confidential. One person’s slip-up could waste the sweat and effort of dozens. In past years, our scores haven’t been great. But this year, we have both the ability and the confidence. I want us all to be united as one. After all, this is a team event, and we represent the entire Veterinary College.”

To ordinary ears, this was just a gentle reminder not to leak the new formation. But to Chen Fangfang, it was an unmistakable warning—

I know it was you. I won’t pursue it this time. But don’t do it again.

Ye Wanjia glanced at her. As expected, Chen Fangfang looked like a thief caught in the act, head bowed, fiddling nervously with the hem of her shirt.

Wei Xiaoxiao had once said that Pei Suye was the epitome of “a gentle knife.” At the time, Ye Wanjia had disagreed, thinking that Pei Suye was only gentle, without the knife. But now, she had to admire Pei Suye’s calm in the face of crises and her mastery of words.

The “knife” only cut those with guilty consciences.

The next morning, Ye Wanjia had no classes. She went to the training ground with a few other students who were also free to rehearse the new “Blooming Together” move. Overnight, Yi Meixi had come up with a better idea for the formation and adjusted their positions. Pei Suye filled in for a teammate who had class, crouching on the right side of the formation.

But with people missing, it was hard to fully run the new routine. Just as they were worrying, hurried footsteps came from the college gate.

They turned—and saw the rest of the twenty-some teammates arriving.

“Senior!”

“Good morning, Senior!”

“We’re here!”

“If we’re practicing, we’re practicing together!”

Each person carried two pom-poms, still with backpacks stuffed with textbooks. Their hair was tied high, faces glowing with excitement and laughter. That vitality was the very definition of youth.

Pei Suye was stunned for a moment and stood up. “Don’t you all have class?”

The League secretary, leading the group, replied righteously: “We do. But today, we all got sick and took leave. As long as you don’t rat us out, the teachers won’t know!”

A girl beside her made a face. “Just kidding! We told the teachers the reason, and they agreed to let us come!”

And so, thirty thin strands twisted together into one thick rope, spiraling upward beneath the blue sky, shaping their collective will.

To change the formation, they followed Ye Wanjia’s suggestion—three boys squatted in horse stance, two girls stepped onto their thighs, and finally, they lifted the light and precise Ye Wanjia into the air.

Beyond that, several of the last eight-counts were reworked: for example, what had been a simple spin became a kneeling spin combined with a shift in the left-right formation. By the end of the day, they could finally run through the full routine with music. Even they could feel that the new formation was a clear level above the old one.

“Alright, great work today, everyone. The competition starts tomorrow at 2 p.m. If we perform like this, we’ll get a great result.” Pei Suye, satisfied with the day’s progress, treated everyone to milk tea out of her own pocket.

When the Student Union heard about the cheer team’s grit, they also came to help. Liang Shangbin pushed a cart loaded with milk tea takeout, Xu Qian handed out herbal cooling drinks, Qiu Yan carried two huge bags of snacks, and the Red Cross president arrived with a fully stocked medicine kit.

The sight of a whole group striving in one direction carried a powerful surge of emotion. Exhausting, but deeply uplifting.

After practice, Ye Wanjia was pulled aside by Yi Meixi to go over some final competition tips.

“That’s it. Tomorrow, it’s all on you guys! I’ve got something else to do, so I’m heading off first.”

As the large group gradually dispersed, Ye Wanjia stretched long and hard, lifting her head toward the crimson evening clouds. The fatigue in her body was swept away in an instant, replaced by a long exhale—

The feeling of working hard was so fulfilling.

“Little Leaf.”

The voice came from behind. Ye Wanjia pulled her gaze from the sunset and turned.

The human eye is strange—whatever you see in one moment lingers into the next. Even as she turned her head, the warm tones of the sunset still painted a golden filter over her vision.

And in that golden light stood Pei Suye, eyes tender.

“Your knees are bruised purple. Here, take this and rub some on.”

Support It Seems Like My Senior Seems to Like Me