It Seems Like My Senior Seems to Like Me - Chapter 93

The nights in Davis were very quiet.

Unlike the metropolitan environment of San Francisco, Davis was just a small town, with more old streets and sidewalks paved with square bricks. A single black-painted streetlamp beside the road looked like a scene straight out of an oil painting.

Near the town center, there was a bit more life. The street resembled a calmly rippling river, winding under the night sky, meandering leisurely into the distance.

The two of them got off their bicycles one after another, parked and locked them, then strolled slowly along the street lined with bars.

The streetlamps cast a dim yellow glow, slanting down on the pair of shadows—one with her hand hanging loosely, the other with hers tucked inside her coat pocket.

They were not holding hands.

Pei Suye lowered her head, a wisp of hair blown down by the night wind brushed over the tiny vermillion mole on her nose bridge. She tucked it back behind her ear.

Her hand, buried inside her pocket, twitched. Slender fingers curled up, lifted slightly, then dropped again.

“Sigh.”

A soft sigh came from beside her. Turning her head, she saw Ye Wanjia gazing at a streetlamp far in the distance. “Lately, things feel a little strange.”

Strange—because both of them seemed to share an unspoken agreement to hide something.

Odd—because clearly, both of them had so much they wanted to say.

Pei Suye’s eyes flickered. She pulled her hand out of her pocket and reached across, lacing their fingers together—this was the way they used to walk the streets.

“Does this feel a little better?” she asked.

Ye Wanjia turned to look at her, her smile warm and tender. “Mm.”

Bathed in the glow cast from the shop windows, their steps unconsciously slowed. The checker-paned windows scattered patches of light on the sidewalk, making it feel as though they were walking through knee-high grass, surrounded by fireflies glowing in the dark.

Pei Suye moved her lips and finally broke the silence:

“Little Leaf, what do you think… the future will be like?”

Ye Wanjia shrugged. “I don’t know. I feel like as long as I can make money, anything is fine. But with you, it’s certain—you’ll definitely be a scientist in the future. Maybe you’ll teach at a university, or maybe open your own research institute, publishing lots and lots of papers.”

Pei Suye lowered her lashes halfway. “Research is fascinating, but life shouldn’t just be about research. I hope you’ll also have a beautiful life.”

Ye Wanjia curled her lips into a sly smile, glancing sideways at her. “Of course. Now that I’ve graduated. But honestly, I used to think graduation would mean freedom. Now it doesn’t really feel that much easier.”

Tap.

Her steps suddenly stopped. Even the wind seemed to halt, listening quietly to everything happening at the street corner.

Pei Suye turned to face her directly, pulling away the thin veil between them:

“What are you planning to do in the future?”

She asked bluntly, straight to the point—asking about the very cloud of uncertainty that had been hovering over both their hearts.

Ye Wanjia lifted her gaze, staring at that calm face under the streetlight, and instead of answering, she countered with a question:

“What do you think? I want to hear your thoughts.”

Pei Suye’s lips pressed together, the corners tugging downward. She felt a sudden loss of confidence, but she still had to say it:

“I still have at least two more years before I graduate. But I don’t want to see you wasting your time every day at home just waiting for me.”

Her beautiful eyes glinted with a hint of mischief, and Ye Wanjia asked, “And how exactly would I be wasting my time?”

Pei Suye’s expression was serious—as always when it came to matters of the future, she refused to joke:

“The first two years after graduation are the golden period. The first platform you establish in your career is crucial; it can shape your entire professional path. It may sound cold, but it’s the truth. That’s why I don’t want you to give up such a good opportunity just for our relationship. I’d rather we live apart and grow separately, than have you stifle your career. Because that would…”

Her lips trembled slightly. After a pause, she finally found the precise word—

“Wilt.”

Her words revealed her stance—and more importantly, her unwavering view on love.

When advising others, she always said: never give up your own things for the sake of someone you love. Now, facing the situation herself, Ye Wanjia’s sacrifice would have made their relationship easier, even deepened her reliance on Pei Suye, making Suye the greater beneficiary.

But she didn’t want that. She still told Ye Wanjia:

You can fight for someone, but don’t give up your life for them.

Ye Wanjia studied the face before her. Deep in those intelligent eyes, she saw a sincerity more dazzling than crystal.

And so, the mist around them cleared. Ye Wanjia stepped forward, her eyes curving into a smile.

“I think so too.”

Her voice lightened with relief. “That’s why I won’t be throwing away a good job just for you.”

In other words—she had already found one.

Pei Suye’s lips tightened. On the one hand, she was happy for her; on the other, her heart ached at the thought of two years apart.

“Is it in Nanzhou, or back home?”

If it was Nanzhou, then at least there was an international airport—meeting would be a bit more convenient.

Ye Wanjia didn’t answer right away. Instead, catching sight of the faint disappointment in Suye’s eyes, she pulled out a folded sheet of A4 paper from her shoulder bag, handed it over, and calmly said two words:

“California.”

Pei Suye blinked for two seconds. “California?”

She quickly snatched the paper, unfolded it with urgency, scanning its contents. Her eyes widened in disbelief.

“You—you…”

Looking up again, she saw Ye Wanjia tilting her head proudly, a dimple gracing her cheek like ripples spreading across a lake touched by a dragonfly.

“Starting tomorrow, you can call me Dr. Ye.”

She refused to give up her career, and she refused to give up Pei Suye, who was still pursuing her doctorate. Striking a balance, she had applied to the UC Davis-affiliated Veterinary Hospital to work as a surgical doctor.

No one had imagined that the home-loving Ye Wanjia would be willing to work in the U.S. Even more surprising, that this highly competitive position would fall into her hands.

“When did you apply?”

Pei Suye was both shocked and overjoyed. The feather-light sheet of paper felt impossibly heavy, as though it might vanish like an illusion, leaving her with nothing after the joy.

Ye Wanjia tilted her head, strands of hair falling across her eyes, her smile brimming with pride.

“Just last week. I was only trying it out, but it went smoother than I thought.”

At that moment, the way she smiled with her head tilted looked exactly like the first time back in college—stealing a kiss beneath the cherry blossoms. Pure, bright, and tinged with mischievous triumph.

“This position isn’t something you just ‘try out’ for. I heard there’s a really tough exam.”

Pei Suye studied her closely, her eyes drifting to the faint shadows under her lids—she understood at once.

Recently, since she had been working on her dissertation, afraid of disturbing Wanjia’s sleep, they had been sleeping separately.

Now it was clear—Ye Wanjia had probably been going to bed even later than she had.

“It wasn’t that bad.”

Ye Wanjia’s smile only grew brighter, eager to play down the exam’s difficulty. “The written test was okay. The main part was the surgical exam. But you know—I’ve done so many surgeries these past two years, I’m really experienced. Plus—”

The rest of her words were swallowed as Pei Suye pulled her into her arms. She held her tightly, burying her face in her neck, breathing in deeply the tenderness, feeling the steady pulse beating beneath her skin.

“Wanjia…”

She whispered her name, each syllable soaked in affection.

The lively Ye Wanjia stilled, her brows softening as she tentatively raised her arms to return the embrace, inhaling deeply the cherry-blossom scent in her hair.

“Shijie…” (senior)

Her murmur was so soft only the two of them could hear:

“This way, we can stay together. And I got such a wonderful offer, too. See? As long as we work hard, things can turn out for the better.”

In this world, there is indeed a way to have it both ways—betraying neither the Buddha nor the one you love.

Support