It Seems Like My Senior Seems to Like Me - Chapter 79

That night, in the bedroom with freshly changed sheets, a dim golden photography lamp flicked on. Its round halo cast from the desk onto the canopy bed, spilling a painterly glow—rich, tender, and adding a layer of intimacy to the quiet night.

By the bedside, Ye Wanjia sat gracefully in a white lace slip dress, soft and dreamy. Her long black hair was tied back, with one loose strand slipping down like a silken tassel swaying gently, its shadow tracing across her cheek under the warm golden light.

Above that shadow shimmered a pair of crystal-like eyes, bright with the spirit of a woodland deer.

“What are you staring at me for?” She pursed her lips, tilting her head slightly, playfully scolding Pei Suye.

Leaning against the doorway, hand resting on the railing, Pei Suye gazed at her and answered, “You’re beautiful.”

Her brows curved, the smile in her eyes deepening. She stepped lightly forward, then leaned back to press the door shut behind her. Tonight, Ye Wanjia was the leading role.

She owed her this—last night, she had lost control and bullied her to tears, and promised to let Ye Wanjia take the lead next time.

To match her mood, Pei Suye obediently wore a pale-blue strapless backless gown. The thin satin outlined her slender figure—waist and hips elegant, the long skirt draping to the floor, inviting a hand to lift it and caress those smooth, endless legs.

“Hmph.”

Ye Wanjia, pleased at being praised, lifted her chin with pride. Sitting straighter, she patted the spot beside her. “Sit here.”

“Okay.”

Pei Suye sat down as told, knees shifting closer until her calf pressed lightly against Ye Wanjia’s. The warmth seeped through fabric, making Ye Wanjia flinch.

“Ahem.”

Her lack of experience left her flustered, nervous, unable to stay calm. Yet underneath her unease, she anticipated the moment she would push Pei Suye to the edge—when that calm face would twist with desire, eyes unfocused, unable to resist.

Taking a steadying breath, she turned in the golden glow and declared:

“Tonight, I’m the main character.”

Pei Suye’s hair spilled over her shoulders, her lips curving as she nodded. “Mm. What do you plan to do?”

Side by side in the lamplight, both could see the other bathed in that sunset-like glow.

“Do you know why I turned on this lamp?”

Ye Wanjia pointed at the desk lamp. Its small bulb spread a wide circle across the bed, like lying on a golden beach, basking in sunlight skimming the sea. Or like resting in an old grand hall, where dozens of candles filled the air with warm light—no bulbs, no electricity, just flame.

“Why?” Pei Suye asked.

She always asked about the little things Ye Wanjia arranged, curious for the meaning behind them, imagining the focused expression on her face as she adjusted the lamp’s angle.

Ye Wanjia explained, “Because in the old days, they believed, ‘A beauty seen under lamplight is three times as fair.’ So I want to see how beautiful you’ll look under this kind of glow.”

Her years in the literature club had rubbed off a little poetic sensibility. “A beauty under lamplight” was just one ideal—but right now, it was the one she most wanted to realize.

Pei Suye’s heartstrings tugged. She could picture her fussing over the lamp, tilting it left, adjusting it right, stacking books beneath it until she found the perfect angle. Her hair slipping forward, her hand tucking it back behind her ear.

“I see now,” Pei Suye whispered, leaning closer. “Satisfied?”

Ye Wanjia’s dimples deepened as she smiled. “Mm. Beautiful. More beautiful than any movie star.”

Their foreheads touched, noses brushing, lips meeting in a petal-soft kiss.

Their entwined silhouettes stretched against the wall—anyone could tell, just from the shifting outlines, that it was a kiss of tenderness and intimacy.

Mindful of Ye Wanjia’s dream of being the “number one player,” Pei Suye leaned back, letting the spring-breeze kiss deepen.

Ye Wanjia didn’t put her full weight on her, but knelt with one leg between hers and the other outside, left hand cradling her face, right hand braced beside her.

“Huuh…”

When the kiss broke, Ye Wanjia’s breath was uneven. Amid that breathlessness, she pulled out her secret weapon for the night—the tool that would make her the star.

“Tonight, we’re using this.”

From the bedside drawer, she pulled out a fan-favorite cat teaser wand.

“Hm?”

Pei Suye hadn’t expected a secret weapon. She turned her head and saw Ye Wanjia holding a long toy: at the top, a silicone cylinder the length of a finger, connected by a spring to the handle. Refined, sleek—the hottest-selling product from a certain adult company.

“You… bought this?”

She recognized it, but was surprised Ye Wanjia would.

“What? Not allowed?” Ye Wanjia jutted her chin and pouted.

She dared not admit it was a gift from Alma—otherwise, she’d have to hear that “We’re all good Samaritans back home” speech all over again.

Pei Suye studied the silicone tip, her gaze shifting to the little white button on the handle. Her thoughts spun.

Then, like a lighthouse flashing over a dark sea, a realization struck: the buzzing sound she’d heard that afternoon…

“Heh…”

Her soft voice broke into laughter, shoulders shaking as her collarbones rose and fell, elegance mixing with allure.

“What are you laughing at!” Ye Wanjia snapped, cheeks burning.

“Hehehe…” Pei Suye lay back on the bed, body trembling with laughter, her clean white teeth flashing.

When her laughter softened, she gazed up at Ye Wanjia’s flushed face and asked gently:

“So… that buzzing sound this afternoon—you accidentally turned this on, didn’t you?”

“It was not!”

As always when she lied, Ye Wanjia’s voice jumped in volume.

She whipped her head away toward the door, but the guilty gesture only betrayed her more. Flustered, she raised a hand to cover those teasing eyes.

“Aiya…” Her voice softened into a spoiled whine. “Just say it—are we using this or not?”

Pei Suye was still smiling, but her tone dropped lower, rich as a cello in a concert hall, seductive:

“Of course.”

“Really?” Ye Wanjia’s eyes lit up. She turned back, hand falling away so their eyes met. “You mean it?”

“Mhm.” Pei Suye’s gaze shimmered as she indulged her. “But this little toy looks fun… so the question is, do I use it on you, or do you use it on me?”

Hearing the faint signal of counterattack, Ye Wanjia declared solemnly:

“I already said I’m the main character. So obviously—it’s for me to use on you.”

Then she realized her words were ambiguous. It could mean using it on Pei Suye, or letting Pei Suye use it on her.

So she added firmly:

“On you.”

Simple, direct—nothing more elegant than plain Chinese.

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