It Seems Like My Senior Seems to Like Me - Chapter 98

The sudden four-person trip disrupted the original plan. Outside the bus terminal, in front of a shabby tricycle, the four of them looked at each other in silence.

The tricycle was old.

It was the same one Ye Wanjia had bought back in undergrad with her very first scholarship.

Its blue paint had been weathered by wind and rain, peeling off in patches, mottled all over. The cargo bed was a rectangular box, meant for hauling goods. No canopy covered it; half-height rails stood on both sides. The bottom was padded with an old advertisement cloth from some long-forgotten business, its patterns so faded they were unrecognizable. Inside lay a few bundles of tied-up cardboard boxes, probably destined for the recycling station. Scattered in the corner were a few nuts and pieces of fried snacks like twisted crullers—leftovers that must have fallen when her parents were selling them at their stall.

Besides that, there were a few sheets of clean newspaper—clearly meant to be the passengers’ seats.

“Ah… so the senior has arrived?”

Her father, Ye Hua, scratched his head awkwardly with an apologetic smile. “This old tricycle is too dirty and unstable. How about this—Jiajia, you take your senior and hire a car instead. A ride into the village is just thirty yuan each, since it’s not New Year yet.”

Saying this, he pulled out the wallet Jiajia had given him last year for his birthday, took out a fifty and a ten.

In the city, they were used to paying with phones, but in less developed places, people still preferred cash.

Chen Meijuan quickly nodded in agreement. “Yes, yes! Xiaopei’s clothes are so clean. It’d be a shame if they got dirty!”

Ye Wanjia bit her lip, torn.

Back in Davis, the two of them had gone through plenty of hard times together. Especially in the beginning, before publishing papers, they often traveled dozens of kilometers to farms just to save a few dollars on groceries, and they would return home dusty and grimy.

But she’d forgotten—Pei Suye had grown up in a comfortable family environment, while she herself had only been fortunate enough to climb out of poverty to reach where she was today.

Catching the flicker of inferiority in her eyes, Pei Suye waved warmly at the couple.

“Auntie, no need. I’ll ride with you. I always thought tricycles looked fun, and I’ve wanted to try. Today’s the perfect chance.”

Then she reached out her hand toward Jiajia, who was already seated. “Give me a pull.”

And just like that, the clouds parted, and the sunlight poured in.

Ye Wanjia’s brows relaxed. She took her hand and pulled her up, patting the cleanly spread newspaper beside her.

“Here, sit here.”

Seeing the genuine smile on her daughter’s face, Chen Meijuan was dazed for a moment. Ever since college, she had spent little time with her daughter, and the bond between them had stretched thin. But she could tell—Pei Suye was well brought up, and she respected Wanjia.

Since they insisted, Ye Hua didn’t argue further. He nodded cheerfully.

“Alright then, I’ll just drive slow!”

The patched-up wheels began to roll, carrying them from the city out toward the little village in the west.

The winter wind howled. With no cover overhead, the cold bit through them, whipping their hair from side to side, numbing their cheeks.

Wanjia took a scarf out of her backpack and wrapped it around her mother, then gestured for Suye across from her to pull hers tighter as well.

Chen Meijuan, basking in the joy of her daughter personally dressing her, felt some of her gloom lift. She made small talk with Pei Suye.

“Xiaopei, you’re working now too?”

Suye nodded politely, tugging the scarf down just below her chin.

“Yes. I’m two years older than Wanjia. I did a doctorate.”

Driving up front, Ye Hua let out a surprised cry, his voice swept away by the cold wind.

“A doctorate! Then you’re even more amazing than our Jiajia!”

Chen Meijuan nodded. “With a doctorate, doesn’t that make you a scientist?”

Neither of them had much education. Even the difference between a master’s and a doctorate, they only understood after Jiajia had gone to grad school.

Wanjia wanted to tell them that Suye already had a stack of publications to her name, and a drug she’d developed was about to hit the market—she already was a scientist. But that would be hard to explain, so she stayed quiet.

Suye thought the same, so she continued gently.

“I’m teaching at Nanzhou University now, leading students in research.”

Wanjia added with a smile, “Not just any teacher—she’s a professor. Among returning scholars in recent years, she’s one of the youngest.”

At the word “returnee,” pride lit up Chen Meijuan’s face.

“Returnees are impressive enough already. Our Jiajia is one too. Honestly, in our whole village—and even counting the whole town—no child has been as outstanding as Jiajia. America! If you had told me ten years ago that my daughter would study in America, I would never have believed it!”

Suye agreed wholeheartedly. “Yes. She’s worked really hard. Even back in undergrad, she won many scholarships. When she went to the U.S. for graduate school, she earned a guaranteed spot.”

Meijuan nodded vigorously. “Exactly! And when she went abroad, we thought we wouldn’t be able to afford it. But luckily the state had student loans, and she got so many scholarships that they almost covered tuition. Really, raising this child—we never had to worry about her. It’s just…”

Her voice faltered, guilt creeping in. “It’s just… we’ve never been able to give her much. Sometimes when I think about it, I feel we’ve let her down.”

“Mom, what are you saying?” Wanjia scolded softly, shaking her mother’s arm.

At that moment, Suye’s eyes grew hot. Her own mother, before she passed, had also often said: I’m sorry, I didn’t do enough for you.

Parents so easily fall into guilt. They gave life itself, yet blame themselves for not giving more.

Her throat tightened. Suye said gently,

“You’ve given her love, and that’s precious. A child from a happy family can focus more energy on her own pursuits. Wanjia is so outstanding—you both deserve a lot of the credit.”

Wanjia nodded quickly. “Exactly. Compared to chaotic households, our family is so much better.”

“Yes, that’s true.” Meijuan agreed, blinking back tears. After a pause, she asked, “Xiaopei, which country did you study in again?”

“America,” Suye answered truthfully.

“Oh… and which school?”

This time, Suye froze, her eyes flickering toward Wanjia. Her long lashes trembled. Then, deciding not to hide, she spoke the truth.

“Davis.”

Crack.

Meijuan’s face stiffened, as if plaster had dried and cracked open, tearing into a jagged wound.

After graduating, Wanjia had stayed in the U.S. for two years, saying it was for work, which gave her a higher starting point when she returned. But if you counted the time—exactly when Suye had graduated.

Up front, intent on driving, Ye Hua didn’t notice the shift in expression. All he heard was their words, and he exclaimed loudly:

“Wow! Then you and our Jiajia went to the same school! Fate, fate indeed!”

Forcing a smile, Meijuan said nothing, her mind suddenly a haze of confusion.

Having lived all her life in a small village, she didn’t know what homosexuality was, nor the idea that two women could love each other. She only felt something odd—that the closeness between Jiajia and this senior seemed to surpass ordinary friendship. But love? She wasn’t sure.

Wanjia said nothing either. In the rush of the cold wind, she and Suye exchanged a quick glance, sharing a small, encouraging smile.

Three parts encouragement. Seven parts bitterness.

She knew—coming out to her family, even just in words, would be as difficult as a calamity.

But it was something she had to do.

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