It Seems Like My Senior Seems to Like Me - Chapter 7

The Metasequoia dormitory area had some of the best facilities among the undergraduate dorms. In addition to en suite bathrooms, each floor was also equipped with its own self-service laundry room.

After showering, Pei Suye carried her change of clothes to the laundry room. Her roommate, Xu Qian, followed right behind with a basin of laundry in her arms, obviously more interested in Pei than in her own washing, as she opened the washer right next to Pei’s.

Pei Suye was wearing a honey-colored nightdress. Her long hair, freshly dried, cascaded loosely over her shoulders, lending her a languid charm not usually seen on her. After scanning the QR code to start the washer, she slipped her phone into her pocket and turned around—facing Xu Qian, who was standing there with her arms crossed, studying her.

“Minister Xu, what’s your business here?” Pei asked.

Xu Qian, head of the Life Committee, had been the first to notice that something was different about Pei Suye lately.

“Hehe.” Xu Qian squinted her eyes with a matchmaker’s signature smile. “Just thought I’d do a little interview.”

“Interview about what?”

“Just want to know how that chivalrous heroine managed to catch your eye.”

Xu Qian’s observational skills were razor-sharp. She could instantly notice who had gotten a haircut, whose family was going through something, who had switched perfumes.

Naturally, that included her own dormmate—Pei Suye—whose moods had been noticeably different of late.

Pei’s gentle eyes lowered slightly. In her mind, she recalled that moment on the bike earlier today, when Ye Wanjia had tugged lightly at the hem of her shirt from the back seat. Long, slender fingers, with soft pink nails and smooth nail beds. Her gaze softened involuntarily as she admitted calmly:

“Loud and clumsy… like Judy Hopps.”

“Judy?” Xu Qian thought for a moment. “You mean the bunny from Zootopia?”

“Mhm.”

Xu Qian clicked her tongue—hiss! Justice-driven, full of rookie energy and enthusiasm—yeah, that fit.

But as soon as she understood the cartoon analogy, she immediately dug deeper into the implication. Her look toward Pei grew more mischievous, one eyebrow arched high.

“Hissss… Don’t tell me you’re trying to say—you’re the sly, calculating Nick Wilde?”

What answered her was a rare flash of mischief on Pei Suye’s face, and a little shrug of her shoulders.

When you first enter university, everything feels novel.

No more stiff uniforms every day. No more constant stress over pop quizzes. No more worrying about failing the last math problem on an exam. Every day there was now at least some time without classes, free to be spent as one wished.

In a blink, October 16th arrived—the day the College of Veterinary Medicine opened its annual sports meet.

At first, no one thought much of slender, delicate Ye Wanjia when it came to athletics. But Wei Xiaoxiao reminded the class monitor that Wanjia had learned gymnastics in the past—and had even done a flip during military training. Naturally, the high jump and long jump were assigned to her.

To encourage her, Wei Xiaoxiao signed up for the high jump as well.

“With legs as long as yours, all you need is one easy stride and you’re over. Unlike me—I’ve gotta sprint and push off hard just to clear it.”

Wei Xiaoxiao, at 155 cm, was 13 cm shorter than Ye Wanjia. Still, with her good proportions, in sportswear she looked well balanced.

“I’ve never competed in a sports meet before,” Wanjia admitted nervously.

“Don’t worry. You did flips during training like they were nothing. This bar is child’s play for you.” Wei Xiaoxiao jogged in place to warm up, the bracelet on her wrist glinting under the sun.

Wanjia reminded her: “Shouldn’t you take that off? What if it falls during the jumps?”

Wei quickly put it away. “Good point. If I lost it to Wang Zhaodi again, that’d be a disaster.”

Wang Zhaodi—one of their roommates.

That bracelet had been the spark that divided their dorm.

A week ago, Wei Xiaoxiao’s bracelet went missing in the communal washroom. The next day, she saw it on Wang Zhaodi’s wrist. When asked, Wang denied everything and claimed it had been a gift from her boyfriend. The argument escalated into a shouting match, finally ending in the counselor’s office. With receipts and payment records as proof, Wei forced Wang to admit she’d simply found it in the washroom.

After that, Wang Zhaodi and two other roommates slapped labels on Wei—“bully,” “classist,” “looking down on the poor.” Wei, in turn, cut ties with them completely.

“That bracelet was my coming-of-age gift from my mom. Cost more than six thousand! If it were really from her boyfriend, she would’ve shown it off eighty times already, no need to wait until I asked.”

Just mentioning Wang Zhaodi put Wei in a bad mood. “Ugh, forget her. Total buzzkill. Come on, let’s check in for the event.”

Ye Wanjia didn’t want to stir up further conflict, so she just comforted Wei, saying at least the bracelet was back. Then she quickly changed the subject, asking what other gifts Wei had received besides that bracelet.

The College of Veterinary Medicine was the largest faculty at Nanzhou University. Other departments had to combine to hold a sports meet, but the Vet College could host one all on its own.

The entire student union, from vice ministers to junior staff, all took on the role of referees and staff for different events. And who happened to be referee for the high jump? None other than Student Union President, Pei Suye.

“Oh my god, am I seeing this right?!” Wei Xiaoxiao jumped in excitement, only for Ye Wanjia to clamp a hand over her mouth.

“Keep your voice down!” Wanjia was panicking.

“Mmmph mmmph…” Wei pried her hand off, whispering in a barely contained frenzy, “Heaven itself is helping you! Come on, let’s crush this event and impress her!”

Wanjia’s heart nearly leapt out of her chest. “Shut shut shut up! You’ll make the whole college find out I like her!”

As soon as the words left her mouth—silence.

Girls from the neighboring class overheard, their heads whipping around. “Ye Wanjia, who do you like?”

“Is it Song Yang? He was waiting for you after class yesterday.”

Boom—

Wanjia’s cheeks went scarlet. Like a guilty child, she twisted the hem of her T-shirt into a crumpled mess.

“No, I don’t like him!”

“Then who?”

“It’s just…”

Luckily, Wei Xiaoxiao reacted quickly. “We were talking about the two cats downstairs! You know, the white one and the black one? She happens to like the black one.”

Freshman girls were still a bit naive, so they believed it.

“Ha, that black one’s kinda ugly though.”

“Eh, it’s still cute. One time it rubbed against my leg when I walked by.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

Phew—

With the probing gone, Wanjia finally breathed again and blended back into the line of twenty-odd students waiting to check in.

Everyone seemed preoccupied with the competition ahead, sharing tips they’d found on Baidu about high jump techniques. Standing ninth in line, Wanjia pulled out her phone, pretending to scroll Weibo to hide her nerves.

By the third trending topic, her finger froze. She looked up, sneaking a glance at the check-in desk.

There sat Pei Suye, right in the middle. Her ash-brown curls were braided loosely to one side, resting against her shoulder. She wore a blue camisole under a white sun jacket, her skin luminous like porcelain.

Flustered, Wanjia tore her gaze back, randomly clicking a trending post. Photos of glamorous actress Yan Zhaoxi flooded the screen, her red-carpet look dazzling. Wanjia scrolled mindlessly through them, yet her body leaned forward unconsciously, the gravel crunching beneath her sneakers as her eyes once again drifted toward the desk.

In the crowd, Pei’s figure stood out effortlessly. One hand pressed the check-in sheet, the other held a pen. The serious look on her face filled even the briefest glance with meaning. Her downcast lashes fanned like crow feathers, highlighting the tiny vermilion mole on her nose bridge.

So beautiful…

Wanjia quickly looked away, whispering the words only in her heart.

She tapped into another hot search. Videos of Yan Zhaoxi being splattered with stage blood filled the screen, chaotic and messy—yet nothing pierced her mind. All of it bounced away before it could sink in.

Meanwhile, the seed of stolen glances was taking root. Roots spread deeper, anchoring into her heart.

A third time, her eyes followed her heart’s will, drifting back toward that figure. And just then, as though by fate, the one being watched lifted her head. Their gazes collided in midair.

Heaven’s lightning meeting earth’s fire. Withered wood meeting spring.

Nearby, hiding in the crowd, Wei Xiaoxiao had been recording the whole thing—the stolen glances, the collision of eyes—clicking her tongue as she whispered to herself while filming:

“Damn… look at this hopeless lovesick mess…”

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