It Seems Like My Senior Seems to Like Me - Chapter 70

The tennis courts were six kilometers away from the dorms, so the three of them biked there together.

The sun was bright, the weather about fifteen degrees—perfect for outdoor exercise.

As usual, Du Ai insisted on riding side by side with Pei Suye. Since the bike lane was narrow, Ye Wanjia could only follow behind.

But riding alone didn’t make her feel left out, because her thoughts were elsewhere—wondering where exactly this Du Ai had popped out from, and whether she’d even been at the welcome party that night.

Also, wearing shorts in fifteen-degree weather—wasn’t she cold?

“Jessica, you haven’t come out for a long time. Have you been busy lately?” Du Ai asked cheerfully.

Pei Suye answered truthfully: “Not really. Just had some things to deal with.”

“What kind of things?”

“Personal matters.”

“Do you need help? If so, I’m always available.”

“It’s already resolved, thank you.”

From behind, Ye Wanjia listened to this pointless exchange with a cold sneer. Indeed, personal matters. The kind where she lay pitifully weak on a hospital bed, asking for a kiss.

And failing.

Du Ai pressed on with small talk: “You’ve been out of practice so long, can you still play?”

Pei Suye smiled faintly: “Of course. Just wait until I spar with Jeck and the others, you’ll see.”

“They’re not coming today.” A sly glint flashed in Du Ai’s eyes.

“Why not?”

“Something came up last minute.”

Watching silently, Ye Wanjia understood at once—this wasn’t “last minute.” It was a carefully planned one-on-one outing, which her presence had disrupted.

When Pei Suye didn’t reply, Du Ai laughed twice.

“What’s wrong? Afraid it won’t be fun enough? Don’t worry, I’ll play with you for as long as you like today!”

At that, Ye Wanjia—who had been left five meters behind—suddenly pedaled hard, overtaking them in a burst of speed, leaving behind only her receding silhouette.

Pei Suye blinked in surprise. Six kilometers was quite a distance—more like a long run that required steady pacing. Why was her Little Leaf biking like it was a hundred-meter sprint?

Puzzled, and worried she’d lose her way, Pei Suye pressed harder on the pedals, chasing after her.

Tennis, golf, skiing—the three sports of the wealthy.

Naturally, Ye Wanjia had never touched them. Her closest connection to tennis was probably back in her childhood, when she was obsessed with Prince of Tennis, and once dreamed she could pull off a “B” twist shot.

The three of them played in rotation, one-on-one, three sets each—the loser stepping down.

Du Ai’s skill was impressive. She and Pei Suye traded shots evenly, their scores neck and neck.

In the first round, Pei Suye lost narrowly, and Ye Wanjia stepped up.

Within five minutes, it was over.

At first Du Ai lobbed her a couple of easy balls, but quickly lost patience, swinging full force each time. Ye Wanjia’s main workout became running all over the court to fetch balls.

“Leafage, maybe you should just practice against the wall. You can’t return a single shot.”

To Ye Wanjia, this rival with designs on Pei Suye had actually given her some very sound advice.

As a strong woman of the new era, Ye Wanjia would not allow herself to have such a weakness!

So she grabbed a ball, walked to the side wall, and threw herself into training with a “level-up” mentality.

Pei Suye chuckled helplessly. She’d been planning to defeat Du Ai quickly so she could feed balls to her Little Leaf and rally gently with her. But clearly, she had underestimated Wanjia’s competitive streak.

So instead, the less-than-ideal trio fell into an oddly harmonious rhythm:
Pei Suye absentmindedly rallying with Du Ai, while Ye Wanjia attacked the wall with fiery determination.

Twenty minutes passed like this—until suddenly, smack—Du Ai mishit, and the ball flew out of bounds.

It arced through the air and landed in a banyan tree, wedged perfectly between two branches.

“Damn…” Du Ai groaned through her nose.

The three of them stood helplessly beneath the massive tree, three stories tall, able to glimpse the ball only from a sharp angle.

Du Ai struck the trunk with her racket, but the centuries-old tree didn’t budge.

“So annoying.” She stamped her foot. “If we were back home, I’d just have my dad send someone to chop it down.”

“This tree is at least two hundred years old. Even back home, you couldn’t chop it down,” Pei Suye said.

Tilting her head back, Ye Wanjia measured the height, then leaned her racket against the roots and crouched to tie her shoelaces.

Pei Suye guessed her intent and stepped forward. “Ye Wanjia, don’t. It’s too tall—it’s dangerous.”

Du Ai was startled. “You’re not actually thinking of climbing up, are you?”

Ye Wanjia’s expression was calm, even puzzled at their objections. “I used to do gymnastics.”

She reached up to a horizontal branch. “This one’s lower than the uneven bars. It’s easy.”

As soon as she finished, she grabbed the branch, swung her body upward, hooked her knee over it, and flipped herself up with ease—sitting on the branch in one fluid motion.

“Ah!”

Du Ai cried out instinctively, recoiling a few steps at the sudden movement. Only when she saw how effortlessly Ye Wanjia perched on the branch did she slowly lower her hand from her mouth.

But when her thoughts returned and she looked at Pei Suye—her heart dropped.

Pei Suye hadn’t stepped back in shock. She hadn’t looked surprised at all. Instead, she had moved forward, tossing aside her racket, and stretched her arms out, curved slightly, standing directly beneath Ye Wanjia.

The branch swayed, sunlight dappling through the leaves like fluttering butterflies, casting shimmering fragments into her usually calm eyes.

So Jessica could look like this.

Her gaze bent into a smile, rich with honey-like tenderness—yet laced with quiet worry. As if the one up there wasn’t a person, but a delicate crystal, ready to shatter at the slightest fall.

Du Ai froze, quickly averting her eyes. She couldn’t believe it. Jessica, who was always so rational in the lab, could reveal such an expression.

At that moment, all the world’s sunlight seemed to shine on her.

“Talk?”

When Pei Suye went to buy water, Du Ai stopped in front of Ye Wanjia, brimming with things to say.

At the time, Ye Wanjia had just mastered serving, dripping with sweat, fanning herself with her visor as she walked into the banyan’s shade.

“Sure. What do you want to talk about?”

Time was short, so Du Ai cut straight to the point: “When are you going to leave Jessica?”

Ye Wanjia had already seen through her intentions, but she hadn’t expected the question to be so blunt.

Leave?

That word wasn’t used for roommates. Even if that roommate might like Pei Suye.

Ye Wanjia paused, eyes sharpening. “Care to explain more clearly?”

Face-to-face chances were rare, so Du Ai chose to lay it bare:

“I know you two used to be together. At Nanzhou University—you dated for more than a year. But you’ve been broken up nearly two years now. Jessica needs to meet new people, fall in love again. If you really like her, you should let go. Don’t keep her trapped in past pain.”

Ye Wanjia listened quietly, her flushed face from exercise making her eyes shine even brighter.

“You like her.”

Instead of answering, she shot back with her own blunt statement.

Du Ai stiffened, her grip on the racket tightening. “That’s right. So what? Because I like Jessica, I know how much she wants to move on from a failed relationship.”

Her voice rose: “And she’s willing to build something with me. We meet up every week to play. Many times, it’s just the two of us—we can play all afternoon, then go to dinner together.”

She knew she was lying. Ye Wanjia didn’t know that Pei Suye spent almost every day buried in the lab, and that when she did agree to play tennis, there were always others around.

But Du Ai liked Pei Suye, and she intended to fight for her. She wanted Ye Wanjia to back down, pack up, and leave—understand that she belonged to the past, while Du Ai was the future.

Ye Wanjia wasn’t crushed as expected. Instead, the haze in her gaze cleared completely, like clouds lifting from the sun.

Looking steadily at Du Ai, her tone was calm:

“Thank you for telling me all this. I understand myself better now. I can tell you—I was jealous.”

Du Ai pressed her point: “That’s your problem. But for Jessica, you should let go.”

Ye Wanjia ignored her, continuing:

“And the second thing I’ll tell you is this—even if I don’t want to get back together, she won’t be with you. And I can prove it right now.”

With that, she walked forward under Du Ai’s unwilling gaze, toward Pei Suye returning with water, just ten steps away.

Without a word, without warning—she stopped, cupped Suye’s face in her hands, and kissed her deeply on the lips.

Just two days earlier, when she’d been sick and frail, Pei Suye had said: “If you kiss me, I’ll be very happy.”

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