It Seems Like My Senior Seems to Like Me - Chapter 80

“Play with you.”

When those two words came from the mouth of a top student at UC Davis, the depth of that “play” surpassed that of any smooth-talking libertine.

Or rather, Ye Wanjia was already heading in that direction.

It was just that her expression still needed some refining. Such desire-laden words clearly did not match the pure, college-entrance-exam face she was wearing.

So cute.

Pei Suye thought to herself.

So she decided to indulge her this once.

Her slender hand rose slowly, delicate skin wrapped in a golden glow beneath the photography lamp, like an oil painting.

Her wrist was slim, a single lustrous bone jutting like a pearl. Her fingers relaxed, languid and effortless, like the stamens hidden inside an orchid bud. They lifted halfway before landing on that silky smooth shoulder. Following the line of the collarbone inward, her fingers stretched, the forefinger slipping under the strap, idly, leisurely, pushing it aside until it slid off the fragrant shoulder.

“Alright.”

Her voice was laced with sultry temptation.

Ye Wanjia’s blood surged at once. She lowered her head and bit down on those soft lips like a wild beast.

This kiss was unlike the last—fierce, scorching, unrestrained, as if she wanted to bite off the very flesh of those lips.

“Wait.” Halfway through the kiss, Pei Suye lazily pushed her away and asked softly, “Did you disinfect this little toy?”

“Huff… huff… what disinfect?”

“This little toy.”

Ye Wanjia, flustered and impatient, was breathing raggedly. “N-no. I just rinsed it with water.”

Pei Suye helplessly pinched the bridge of her nose, then reached into the nightstand drawer for a pack of sanitizing wipes. Taking the object, she began carefully wiping it as she explained:

“A girl’s body is very sensitive, especially there. The inner wall is full of delicate mucosa. Repeated, intense friction can easily cause tears, and if the toy isn’t clean, infection is very likely.”

It was logical and reasonable. As a veterinary medicine graduate student herself, Ye Wanjia fully agreed.

And after agreeing, a thought sprouted in her heart, spreading like a seed bursting into bloom:

“Yesterday you didn’t know anything. How come today you suddenly know it all?”

At such questioning, Pei Suye raised her brows slightly, a trace of pride in her expression.

“Twenty-four hours is enough to study a lot.”

“Hm?” Ye Wanjia’s thoughts halted abruptly. She stared at that beautiful face in front of her, realization dawning. “Th-then you’re saying when you told me you went to the library today, you actually went to… y-y-you…”

After uncovering the truth, she declared with righteous indignation:

“Profanity! Blasphemy!”

Pei Suye only took it as praise—praise for her diligence, her effort to learn, her desire to share this experience with Ye Wanjia.

She slowly tossed the disinfectant wipe onto the nightstand, stuffed the little toy back into Ye Wanjia’s hand, and leaned on one elbow against the mattress. Her upper body lifted just enough for her face to emerge from Ye Wanjia’s shadow, bathed in warm golden light. Her eyes gleamed like ancient amber, lips curved like blooming petals, brimming with seductive charm.

“The library isn’t just for one kind of research.”

Smooch.

She placed a gentle kiss on those parted lips, her jade-like hand sliding downward as her voice grew low, husky, even bewitching:

“Someone’s reservoir capacity seems a bit lacking.”

Under the intoxicating glow, Ye Wanjia pounced on her again.

That night was utterly unrestrained. The “cat teaser stick” was played with until the battery died, the sheets crumpled like pickled cabbage, their voices hoarse and broken—so much so that it took three days before they could speak normally again.

At that moment, she understood the leaves battered by pouring rain, the small boat tossed in a raging storm, understood every living thing willing to abandon itself in a world of madness. She collapsed into her lover’s arms, endlessly seeking kisses, affection, pleasure—never to forget as long as she lived.

Later, she would write about it in the second volume of Miss Pei and Miss Ye.

That summer was filled with sweetness.

As she recalled it, there had been no unhappiness.

On weekdays, the two went to the lab together, one upstairs, one downstairs. Pei Suye continued researching her anti-failure drug, while Ye Wanjia began working on animal clinical surgeries, successfully neutering three tomcats.

Sometimes experiments dragged on past the 8 p.m. closing time. Whoever finished first would wait in the study room. Most often, it was Ye Wanjia waiting—she didn’t love research as much as Pei Suye. After finishing the assignments given by her advisor, she used her spare time to write her novel.

By September, Pei Suye had successfully secured a PhD program position in her third year of her master’s degree, continuing her academic journey.

From then on, Ye Wanjia often teased her by calling her “Doctor Pei.”

Although Pei Suye always corrected her, reminding her she was only a PhD student, not yet a doctor, Ye Wanjia called it with such enthusiasm, her eyes sparkling like diamonds, that Pei Suye eventually let her be.

But the road of research was not always smooth.

Just as Pei Suye was preparing her second paper, having reached the final verification stage of her experiments, fate struck her a heavy blow.

“No difference.”

She muttered the words in a daze, staring blankly at the instrument screen. Her back hunched, leaning against the window, even the white lab coat she wore had lost its clean, radiant luster.

Ye Wanjia stood by the door, heart twisted with sharp pain.

The lively girl moved quietly now, cautiously entering the lab. Standing behind her, she placed both hands on Pei Suye’s shoulders and looked at the results on the screen.

The control group, injected with saline, and the four experimental groups injected with the drug—Tube1, Tube2, Tube3, Tube4—showed no difference whatsoever.

In other words, the drug had no therapeutic effect at all.

“Should we repeat the experiment?”

Ye Wanjia bent down, hugging her neck from behind, cheek against cheek. “Didn’t you prepare the drug yourself? Maybe one of the reagents expired, lost effectiveness, and made the drug useless. That doesn’t mean the formula is wrong.”

They were in the same field; they could think of solutions together.

What was more precious was that, even in defeat, Pei Suye didn’t lash out. She simply turned her head, rubbing her forehead affectionately against Ye Wanjia’s cheek. And Ye Wanjia, instead of blaming her, stayed by her side, calmly analyzing the problem with her.

“Maybe…” Pei Suye finally spoke softly, “this is the first trial of my PhD journey.”

Ye Wanjia kissed her forehead, ruffling her hair playfully. “It’s fine. You’ve got so much hair—you won’t be afraid of trials!”

“Hehe…”

No matter how low her spirits fell, Ye Wanjia always had a way—a single line could make her laugh.

Swiveling in her chair, Pei Suye looked up at her. Even in her weary eyes, a bit of girlish charm leaked out.

“I want roast chicken wings tonight.”

Lately, with fewer experiments, Ye Wanjia had been trying out recipes. Honey chicken wings were her most successful dish.

Seeing her appetite perk up, Ye Wanjia felt proud. She cupped her face and planted a loud kiss on her forehead.

Smooch!

“Okay, let’s go!”

She dashed out of the room, heading to the study room to pack up her laptop and files.

Watching that lively figure skip away, her little ponytail bouncing up and down, Pei Suye’s heart grew soft.

The data on the screen might have been disappointing, but turning her head she found someone’s gaze waiting for her, someone who cared about her feelings, who minded her emotions, someone who gave her a shoulder when she was exhausted and defeated—

That was the second happiest thing in the world.

The first happiest thing in the world was knowing—she cared about her just the same.

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