It Seems Like My Senior Seems to Like Me - Chapter 75

“Little Leaf, don’t say things that will make me misunderstand.”

Her soft voice was like a feather landing on a violin string, the fine fibers brushing against it again and again, producing faint humming sounds.

Squatting in front of the wardrobe, Pei Suye didn’t turn her head around. Otherwise, she would have no way of hiding her trembling lips pressed tightly together, nor stopping herself from pouncing the moment she saw Ye Wanjia lying naked under the quilt.

Her mind raged like a storm, trying to sweep away her filthy thoughts. Her long fingers clutched the edge of the closet door, gripping hard to conceal the trembling at her fingertips, and she slowly stood up.

Hoo… hoo…

Deep breaths—deep breaths—

Little Leaf was pure and innocent. She didn’t mean it that way.

What did she say just now? Oh—she said, If you hold me, I won’t be cold anymore.

But hugging was impossible. Her mind was already clouded by desire—if she really hugged that bare, fragrant shoulder, inhaled the fresh, sweet scent of her just after bathing, she would turn into a beast.

No, that can’t be… though isn’t it true that even Beauty and the Beast can make a pair?

No, no, no! Pei Suye, when did you become so indecent, filled with such filthy thoughts?!

She shut her beautiful eyes and silently recited the Four Sentences of Hengqu in her heart:

“To ordain conscience for Heaven and Earth,
To secure life and fortune for the people,
To carry on lost teachings of past sages,
To bring peace to all future generations.”

Three times over, she forced the sacred ideals of self-cultivation and order into her tainted mind, calming herself—just a little.

And just as that “little” calm had not yet fully settled, from the bed came a soft, sticky, buzzing whisper:

“Then… let it be a misunderstanding…”

One person was desperately trying to purge impure thoughts, while the other, curled in bed, told her not to avoid the misunderstanding.

Thump! Thump! Thump!

Her heart pounded wildly in her chest, scalp tingling. The hand gripping the closet door lost all feeling; bracing herself with her other hand, she wobbled upright, legs numb, staggering against the door as she turned.

On the bed, the girl curled up obediently in the quilt, wrapped so tightly that only her towel-wrapped head and a slender bit of neck showed. Her back was arched, knees drawn in, whole body shrinking down, as if she wanted to bury her head between her legs. The bones at the back of her neck pushed out, curving in an elegant line.

But her flushed ears betrayed everything.

Snap.

Delicate fingers released the closet door. From gripping it so long, her hand made a tacky sound as it came free, and the light revealed clear fingerprint marks.

Tap… tap…

She walked step by step toward the bed, sat at its edge, and slowly raised her long, slender fingers to test the girl’s thin shoulder. It was cool, like the “icy skin” often described in novels.

And so her palm burned hotter.

The fragrance of fresh bathwater filled her nose. Her gaze fixed on the crimson earlobe; her throat bobbed twice, and her breathing grew heavy in an instant.

“Little Leaf.”

She whispered hoarsely, voice so raw it was almost just air.

“I… I want… to kiss you.”

Her slim hand slid to the front of the girl’s neck, cupping her chin and lifting it gently. At the same time, her grip on the shoulder tightened slightly, pulling the delicate body toward her.

As the small chin tilted up, Ye Wanjia bit her lip hard out of nervousness.

A thumb with a rounded nail bed brushed against her lips, coaxing them open. Her bottom lip bore a clear ring of bite marks.

And then—Pei Suye lowered her head, softly taking the lips into her own, carefully sucking.

“Mmh…”

The sweet, sticky kiss was like a match head dipped in red phosphorus, striking down into a pile of dry wood—instantly, flames roared up.

From beneath the quilt, white arms slipped out, wrapping around the one kissing her. Her hands pressed against the other’s spine, clutching at the soft knit fabric of her sweater, feeling the frantic, heaving breaths of her body.

They had kissed before—more than once.

But always just light tastes, in fresh dresses beneath cherry blossoms, in sunlight, confessing pure and innocent love.

Never once had it been this wild—like they wanted to swallow each other whole.

She didn’t know how long the fierce kissing lasted, but soon Pei Suye’s sweater had slipped away, leaving only a silver shirt buttoned all the way to the top.

Their hair was messy, their breaths harsh, and their pretty eyes brimmed with emotions too strong to contain.

“Then… then what now?” Ye Wanjia clutched at the fabric around her waist and asked.

Pei Suye looked lost. “I… I don’t know.”

And then she dove down again, kissing her neck.

“Ah!”

Ye Wanjia gasped and pushed her away, both hands braced on her shoulders. Her cheeks were burning scarlet. “If you don’t even know what to do, why are you just kissing me all over like this?”

Her voice was naturally thin; in passion she couldn’t control it, every word coming out broken, even a little cracked—fragile and tender, enough to nearly destroy Pei Suye’s reason.

She toppled the girl back down, grasped her wrists and pinned them above her head, and with ragged breathing whispered:

“Let’s just go with the flow.”

Ye Wanjia panicked, kicking under the quilt. “You—you don’t even know what to do! How can we just ‘go with the flow’?”

Pei Suye, thoughtless as she was, realized that made sense. Blankly, she released her hold, crawled aside a little, and said:

“I’ll get my phone.”

Sitting up, Ye Wanjia stared after her rushing toward the living room. “What do you need your phone for?”

Thinking of recent news stories, she quickly warned: “You’re not planning to record a video, are you? I’m telling you right now—you absolutely can’t!”

To show her resolve, she tightened the towel around her body again.

Pei Suye returned quickly, looking innocent. “I want to check.”

“Check what?”

“Check what we’re supposed to do next.”

“You—!”

Ye Wanjia’s brain buzzed, overcome by both shame and anger. She bowed her head, rubbing the towel fabric between her fingers. “That’s not something you can just look up online…”

Pei Suye’s fingers trembled as she typed, failing three or four times before finally entering the search term.

“There are sites for this.”

“Special sites?” Ye Wanjia asked nervously, clutching her towel. “Don’t you need a VPN?”

“We’re in the U.S. right now.”

“Oh… right.”

She propped the phone on the bedside table. As the video began to play, Pei Suye returned and pulled her into her arms, kissing her again and again.

But the video’s opening was unbearably slow—the two girls just bumping into each other in a supermarket, chatting idly.

Impatient, Ye Wanjia kissed her back, then crawled her hands up to Pei Suye’s collar, grabbing the front of her shirt and trying to tear it open.

Rip! Rip!

The fabric was good quality; despite her strength and whitening fingertips, she only managed to pull the buttons half out of their holes.

Pei Suye looked down at her hands. “What are you doing?”

“Tearing your clothes.”

Ye Wanjia answered seriously, “That’s how they always do it in TV dramas.”

At that, the fire in Pei Suye’s eyes blazed full force. She tugged at the edge of the towel, stripping it away, while her other hand fumbled at her own shirt, kissing her recklessly.

“Ah!”

Ye Wanjia yelped. “Didn’t you say you didn’t know what to do?”

Pei Suye lifted her head from her neck. “Learning as I go.”

Learning as she watched—improvising on the spot. A kissing method tailored just for Chinese babies.

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