It Seems Like My Senior Seems to Like Me - Chapter 23

Pei Suye never expected Ye Wanjia to take the initiative to wait for her—standing in the sunset, bathed in golden light.

Her long hair fell gracefully down her back, reaching her waist, carrying an almost dreamlike aura. She wore a simple white floral blouse paired with a denim long skirt and canvas shoes—utterly plain—but in the sunset glow, she seemed almost sacred, like the wind gently caressing golden wheat fields.

Strictly speaking, Pei Suye’s feelings for Ye Wanjia hadn’t risen to the level of affection; she just found this freshman girl’s personality rather cute.

If anything, it was more like appreciating a beautiful person—a tiny flicker of fondness—before this sunset moment.

Ye Wanjia’s heart was a little anxious, her pulse racing, and her smile forced, slightly stiff.

That day, Pei Suye’s bicycle tire had just been punctured. They had each taken a shared bike to the subway station. The celebration was two subway stops from school, near a freshwater lake, with beautiful scenery at night.

But Ye Wanjia had no mind to enjoy the scenery. Her thoughts were entirely on how to explain her unilateral modifications during the competition.

Although the result was good, she hadn’t consulted anyone beforehand. If she had failed, she would have been the academy’s scapegoat. Pei Suye’s decision to address her formally as “Ye Wanjia” rather than “Xiao Yezi” was completely understandable.

She exhaled slowly as the subway moved, staring at her polished thumb nail while nervously saying:

“During the competition today, I saw that the Foreign Languages College scored so high… I got anxious.”

No preamble, no beginning, she just blurted out the pent-up words, clumsy and awkward. Even Pei Suye didn’t immediately understand her intent.

“Hm?” She paused, then replied, “Oh, yes, they were right before us. Feeling nervous is normal.”

Ye Wanjia fiddled with the textured pole with her thumb, avoiding Pei Suye’s gaze, forcing herself to continue:

“So I really wanted to win, so I added a few extra moves at the last minute. Though I used to do them in gymnastics, it’s been so long since I retired, and I didn’t plan for negative outcomes. That was my fault.”

Hmm?

Pei Suye’s thoughts lagged for a moment. She turned to look at Ye Wanjia. The girl had both hands gripping the pole, ears flushed, her big round eyes staring at her hands, unable to look up—like a child caught sneaking candy, offering an apology.

Or, in this moment, she really was apologizing.

Pei Suye’s calm features moved slightly, softening like ripples spreading across water.

Her interest was piqued. She hadn’t expected that a fleeting emotion of hers would be noticed and remembered by this little girl, who had rushed from the dorm to meet her, “just because,” to apologize.

Yes, she had been momentarily displeased, but not for the reason Ye Wanjia assumed.

She let out a light laugh, and slowly said:

“When people say ‘although…but’, the focus is on the ‘but’.”

“But?”

Ye Wanjia blinked, confused. Pei Suye hadn’t said “but” at all on the way, had she? Then a flash of insight struck—she recalled Pei Suye’s words before the competition:

“I trust you, but safety comes first.”

Ah—so Pei Suye wasn’t upset about her altering the moves; it was…

She turned in surprise, meeting Pei Suye’s calm gaze, rippling with gentle emotion.

“No matter what, safety comes first. You’re so young; I don’t want to see you get hurt chasing after something.”

At that moment, an arrow from Cupid struck Ye Wanjia’s heart—Pei Suye didn’t blame her for holding the team back or adding risk, but cared about her personal safety.

Was this… the rarest form of concern in the world?

“I don’t want to see you get hurt chasing something.”

Ye Wanjia’s cheeks flushed. She almost asked, “Senior, would following you hurt me?”

At the last moment, she preserved her pride and didn’t say it aloud.

Still, it didn’t stop their mutual understanding from deepening. The seemingly carefree Pei Suye also had moments of unease. And the outwardly shy, clumsy Ye Wanjia had noticed it—more attentively than anyone.

Pei Suye really only had kindness, no harshness.

The school’s cheerleading competition ended. The College of Veterinary Medicine, as a dark horse, claimed the championship and appeared on the school’s official account the next day.

Early the following morning, Ye Wanjia received an invitation in her student email—to participate in the Nanzhou City University Cheerleading Competition.

This time, the school would select 50 students to represent Nanzhou University. The overall person in charge was the student council president, Du Bin. Pei Suye, as the student council president of the College of Veterinary Medicine and due to her excellent results this year, was appointed vice-captain.

Ye Wanjia, due to her outstanding performance, along with three other arts students, was assigned as the central lead jumper.

The city-level competition was larger in scale. The aerobics coach had choreographed more professional moves, which meant more grueling training.

Ye Wanjia, as the only non-arts student among the leads, received extra attention during practice. Often, while other team members rested, she continued training.

That day, after training, Pei Suye was finishing organizing materials. The two walked slowly toward the dorm together. Alongside them were Coach Ouyang, who trained Ye Wanjia, and Du Bin, who had coincidentally finished work at the same time.

With the instructors present, Ye Wanjia spoke very little.

In contrast, Du Bin talked non-stop, always directed at Pei Suye. At that moment, Ye Wanjia felt like she could see herself—the girl who once scrambled for topics to talk about in front of Pei Suye, often making conversations awkward.

“By the way, Suye,” Du Bin said, taking a box of pastries from his shoulder bag and handing it to Pei Suye. “Don’t you like this shop’s snow cakes? I passed by this afternoon and bought one for you. Here.”

Pei Suye didn’t take it immediately, smiling calmly. “How did you know I like it?”

Du Bin replied confidently, “I saw you buy three boxes last week; obviously, you must like it. See? I’m attentive.”

Pei Suye clarified, “Last week, I bought those because our student council meeting ran late, and I wanted to treat everyone.”

The atmosphere became slightly awkward. Coach Ouyang Fei, kind and perceptive, saw Du Bin’s attentions and tried to help the young people, chiming in:

“This shop’s snow cakes are indeed delicious. Pei Suye, just take it. Du Bin meant well.”

At this point, refusing would seem overly pretentious. Pei Suye accepted the box, thanked him, and untied the pink ribbon. There were three cakes—pink, green, and yellow.

“President Du, I hope it’s okay for the three of us girls to each take one?”

Not “Du Bin,” nor the commonly used “Bin-ge” from the cheer team—but “President Du”. Adding his title subtly created distance.

Du Bin’s eyelids twitched, forcing a stiff smile. “Sure, go ahead.”

Coach Ouyang Fei also understood Pei Suye’s polite refusal and smoothed the situation: “Thanks! Next time, I’ll treat you to their milk shortcakes.”

Du Bin felt uncomfortable inside. Pei Suye was a goddess-level figure, flawless. He, Du Bin, was also student council president, well-off, handsome, with admirers—yet no one had handled rejection as gracefully as Pei Suye.

Was Pei Suye naturally indifferent?

No. After opening the box, she subtly let Coach Ouyang Fei choose the yellow peach-flavored one, then handed the cake to Ye Wanjia, softly saying:

“The one on the right is peach—this is for you.”

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