It Seems Like My Senior Seems to Like Me - Chapter 8

By mid-October, the stifling heat had finally eased.

The sun no longer burned skin the way it did in July and August. Its dazzling white light now carried a faint golden tint of early autumn, gilding one’s eyes with a honeyed warmth.

The check-in process went smoothly, and soon the 9th participant—Ye Wanjia—stepped up to the desk.

Just as Pei Suye finished with the person before her and lifted her gaze, her lips curved in a gentle smile.
“Name?”

“Ye Wanjia.”

“Which class?”

“Veterinary Medicine, Class 233.”

“This is your number bib. Put it on yourself.”

“Alright, thank you.”

The exchange was brief and businesslike, no different from the interaction between any other athlete and the check-in staff. Until—just as Ye Wanjia accepted the bib and was about to walk away—Pei Suye’s soft voice followed:

“Good luck.”

Snap!

As if a match had been struck inside her, setting her calm heart alight with a flicker of fire.

Sweetness rushed through her chest. She bit her lip to suppress the rising smile, but two dimples still formed at her cheeks.
“Thank you, President.”

High jump had always been the Veterinary College’s strongest event. Every year at the University Games, they almost always took first place. As outstanding athletes graduated, the college constantly replenished its roster by scouting talent from the college-level sports day and training them, ensuring a steady stream of contenders for the championship.

But in reality, for untrained freshmen, high jump was an event full of accidents.

At 110cm, the referee waved the flag—start!

• Veterinary Pharmacy, Class 231 – Class Committee Secretary: “Uprising.”
  He sprinted too fast, couldn’t stop at the bar, and ended up snatching the crossbar with his arm while tumbling onto the mat.
• Veterinary Medicine, Class 222 – Class Life Committee: “Clean Break.”
  She had explosive power, but planted her foot right on the bar—snap!—broke it in half.
• Animal Science, Class 221 – Class Belle: “Invisibility Technique.”
  She jumped astonishingly high and far, soaring past the first mat entirely, then lost balance, slipped between two mats, and disappeared from sight.
• Veterinary Inspection, Class 231 – Study Committee: “Twisted Pretzel.”
  With weak vertical power but rich childhood jump-rope experience, she twisted her torso like a pretzel midair, somehow clearing the bar sideways.
• Veterinary Medicine, Class 233 – Ordinary Student, Wei Xiaoxiao: “Flying Martial Arts.”
  Unable to jump frontwards or sideways, she relied on years of mischievous somersault practice. Sprinting forward, she launched into the air spread-eagle, clearing the bar like a scene straight out of a wuxia novel.

That day, the school’s online forum exploded with new posts. Half of them were screenshots of the Veterinary College’s high jump, and someone even made a meme video titled “The Years When Math Teachers Substituted for P.E. Class.”

“Hahaha, I’m crying! High jump is officially the funniest event!”

“Sports Day always delivers the best memes!”

“Graduated two years ago, but these pics bring it all back—we were just as wild then.”

“This year’s freshmen are strong—the moves are way more creative than last year’s!”

After the 110cm round, the 24 competitors were whittled down to 8. Both Ye Wanjia and Wei Xiaoxiao made it through.

Wei, brimming with energy, kept warming up on the sidelines:
“This next round, I’m going to unleash my martial arts move to the max!”

Ye joined her, practicing leg lifts. Even through her track pants, the long, defined lines of her legs were striking.

“Yeah, let’s both give it our all. First place is worth 9 points.”

Wei gulped down water. “Exactly! We’re neck-and-neck with Class 1. If we win high jump, we’ll overtake them. My martial arts move can maybe add 5cm, tops. But you’re different—you’ve got more potential. Just don’t overthink it and charge forward. I’m betting everything on you!”

Ye winced. “That’s a lot of pressure.”

“Pressure? What pressure?” Wei adjusted her glasses. “Ye Wanjia, this isn’t just any high jump—it’s high jump judged by Pei Suye. Your crush is literally watching you. If you can’t even clear a bar, how are you ever going to win her heart?”

Though the blunt words “your crush” made her cheeks burn, the logic was solid. Instantly fired up, Ye sprinted toward the 115cm bar.

Whoosh!

She cleared it with ease.

But the assistant referee raised the red flag.
“Number 9, it’s not your turn yet. That attempt doesn’t count.”

“Pfft—HAHAHA!”

Laughter exploded around the field like thunder. Ye’s face flushed scarlet as she tugged at her pants and scurried back to the athlete zone.

Wei doubled over, tears in her eyes.
“Ye Wanjia—you—you’re killing me, oh my god…”

After the brief interlude, the women’s high jump continued.

• At 115cm, 2 were eliminated.
• At 120cm, 4 more were cut—including Wei Xiaoxiao.

That left 2 finalists to battle for the championship: Ye Wanjia (with gymnastics experience) versus Chen Fei from Class 1.

“Come on, Wanjia! If you beat her, our class takes first!”
“Let’s go, Chen Fei! We’re one point ahead of them—if you win, we’ll widen the gap!”

At 125cm, Chen Fei cleared it easily. Ye failed her first try but scraped through on the second, her hips barely brushing past the bar.

Wei shouted herself hoarse as a one-woman cheer squad:
“Way to go, Wanjia! Beautiful jump!”

Ye nervously sipped water, then looked up—just in time to see Chen Fei approach the chief referee, Pei Suye.

“Senior, I heard you were the high jump champion at last year’s University Games. Could you give me some pointers?”

Trying to get private coaching during the finals, huh?

Pei’s lips curved faintly.
“You cleared 1.25 meters with ease. What advice could you possibly need?”

Her gaze shifted, catching sight of Ye stomping in frustration not far away. She beckoned her over.

“You both have good jumping ability. Chen Fei has prior competition experience, so her technique is smoother. But you,” she turned to Ye, “you lose out by always approaching from the front. Try running in at about a 30-degree angle.”

Then her eyes softened.
“And with your gymnastics background, your vertical leap is actually much stronger than average. But you jump too early, so by the time you reach the bar, your body is already descending. Delay takeoff by half a step—cross the bar at your peak height.”

Her words were sharp and precise, cutting straight to the problem.

But Ye cared about more than just the technical feedback—

“She just smiled at me…”

Wei smacked her forehead.
“Smiled my ass! That was just basic courtesy. Stop swooning and focus! Chen Fei literally rolled her eyes at us just now. You have to beat her, you hear me?!”

But the harsh scolding only melted into a flurry of pink petals inside Ye’s head, drifting through the dreamlike haze of her mind.

Years later, Ye Wanjia could no longer remember the exact details of that day. Only that she suddenly felt unstoppable—and in the end, cleared 138cm, defeating Chen Fei.

Her victory earned Class 233 nine points. Chen Fei’s second place only netted seven, allowing Ye’s class to surpass Class 1 on the leaderboard.

Taking first place also meant Ye officially became a seeded athlete for the University Games.

The Sports Department head approached her, exchanged contact info, and informed her she would represent the Veterinary College in women’s high jump.

At that moment, Pei Suye was standing nearby. Her gentle gaze lingered on the dimples in Ye’s cheeks.

“Starting tomorrow, come train after class.”

Support It Seems Like My Senior Seems to Like Me