On the day of the cultural festival.
Ye Xi and Li Rui went together to set up their booth. Their class had snagged a great spot inside the gymnasium—spacious, with lovely wooden tables and chairs arranged in a cozy layout. Even though it was indoors, they insisted on putting up a small sun umbrella.
Ye Xi stared for a long time before he couldn’t help but ask, “Isn’t this kind of stupid?”
Who puts up umbrellas indoors? Ridiculous. He’d even heard it might stunt your growth.
He was immediately glared at by both Li Rui and Liang Zhan.
“This is called setting the mood,” Li Rui explained. “We want people to really feel like they’re in a café. And there’s a transparent skylight above us—doesn’t it feel like warm sunshine?”
Li Rui jabbed him with a finger, exasperated. “Why don’t you have any sense of romance?”
Ye Xi pouted. If that’s what romance was, then he’d never understand it.
Ignoring Ye Xi’s lack of enthusiasm, Liang Zhan and Li Rui ordered the class PE reps to carry in a few pots of flowers and plants.
A hand-drawn blackboard sat at the entrance, decorated with white cursive writing and cute drawings of bread and coffee.
The students working the booth wore matching uniforms.
The boys wore black three-piece suits with a satin sheen, dark shirts crisp and neat underneath, and vests adorned with dangling pocket watch chains that shimmered subtly as they moved.
The girls were more playful—high ponytails, dark brown wool coats, matching short skirts, ribboned shirts, and high-heeled boots.
Even usually sloppy boys looked decent now, not to mention Ye Xi, Li Rui, and the naturally stylish girls.
Before they officially opened, students from nearby classes came to check it out.
“Such evil intent,” the class president from the next class was stunned. “You’re even using charm? I never noticed your class had so many hotties.”
Liang Zhan shot her a glare but looked quite pleased. She grabbed Ye Xi and said with a smile, “Don’t tell me you don’t like it.”
Ye Xi was suddenly pushed forward, totally flustered, not knowing what to do.
The class president from next class—a long-haired, glasses-wearing girl—looked refined and gentle, but she scanned Ye Xi from head to toe with such scrutiny that he turned his face away, embarrassed.
“Definitely a treat for the eyes,” she said with a soft laugh.
Then she elegantly sat down, not even waiting for them to officially open, and pointed at Ye Xi.
“You, young man, I’d like you to take my order.”
Thanks to this great start, Ye Xi and Li Rui were run off their feet all morning.
Originally, they were scheduled to work from 2 to 4 PM. Once the booth was set up, they were supposed to roam around freely.
But Liang Zhan saw how much attention they were attracting and immediately kept them there, making them run back and forth delivering coffee.
“This is exploitation,” Li Rui muttered, hiding behind the booth and biting into bread for lunch, eyes glistening with silent resentment.
He said, “I saw Class 3 has sushi, and the first-years are selling handmade dolls. I wanted both!”
Ye Xi patted him solemnly.
“Say no more. Liang Zhan said we have to keep working after we eat.”
But helping at the booth wasn’t all bad—it was great for gossip-watching.
During a break, Li Rui leaned against the table, covering his mouth with a tray, and whispered to Ye Xi, “Look in that far corner—see that pair? Isn’t that last year’s tennis club captain with that super pretty dance student from Class 7? I never saw them hang out before. And now they’re sharing coffee and cake?”
Ye Xi glanced over. The pair were indeed good-looking, but he was a little face-blind when it came to anyone but Bai Yue, so he couldn’t recognize them.
Luckily, that didn’t matter—Li Rui quickly moved on.
“And over there…” He added ice to a cup and nudged Ye Xi with his elbow. “Isn’t that the current student council president in black? And the guy next to him…”
Ye Xi looked up.
It was indeed him.
That face he knew—Bai Yue’s successor, Yan Jiangbai. With sharp features and a tall frame, he lacked Bai Yue’s warmth and friendliness. He seemed cold and unapproachable.
Next to him stood a slightly thinner boy in a white jacket. They weren’t standing very close and didn’t seem connected.
“The one in white is Tao Che, the top student from Class 10 who got in on a special recommendation,” Li Rui whispered even lower. “You might not remember, but the student council president once caught him skipping class. They almost fought. And now they’re here together…”
Li Rui shook his head, clicking his tongue.
Ye Xi, however, was completely lost.
“What do you mean?”
He looked puzzled and innocent, clearly thinking the two had just run into each other.
“Come on…” Li Rui sighed at Ye Xi’s cluelessness. He leaned closer, whispering, “I saw them together once—at a bookstore. The school council president even carried Tao Che’s bag.”
Oh.
Now Ye Xi got it. His eyes widened.
He looked toward them again—but unfortunately, they were already gone.
Still, he noticed that even when walking away, the two stayed near each other.
“Wow…”
Ye Xi let out a flat-sounding exclamation, his face blank, but his eyes twinkled with gossipy delight.
He told Li Rui, “I now understand why the cultural festival is necessary.”
With so many secret couples, how could they not come out to breathe?
They both burst into silent laughter.
But soon enough, Liang Zhan’s angry yell rang from behind them: “You two over there! How long are you going to make that coffee? Hurry up!”
….
They stayed busy until 4 PM before the booth finally slowed down.
Ye Xi and Li Rui finally had time to make themselves a coffee.
Li Rui chose a sweet mocha with a canelé on the side, totally unafraid of overdoing it.
Ye Xi kept it simple—a cup of hot latte.
He kept checking his phone. It was almost 4 PM, but Bai Yue hadn’t messaged him at all.
He felt a little down.
He’d been looking forward to it since noon—hoping Bai Yue would suddenly appear from the crowd, and he’d turn around and see him.
But waves of people came and went, and Bai Yue never showed up.
Ye Xi took a sip of coffee and found it bitter, even though he’d added sugar.
He didn’t want to show it, so he put his phone away—only to see that Li Rui was also looking at his phone.
“Are you waiting for Sheng Yuhe?” he asked softly.
Li Rui reacted like he’d been poked in the tail.
“No, I’m not.”
He quickly hid his phone.
He muttered, “I didn’t even invite him. Who cares. He’s not like Bai Yue, treating you so well. I’ve already…”
But before he could finish his sentence, someone lightly knocked on their cart.
A slender, pale finger tapped the wooden counter, and a cool, low voice spoke.
“One iced Americano and a plain scone.”
Li Rui froze as soon as he heard the voice.
He took several seconds to slowly turn his head and meet the gaze of the person outside.
There stood a tall boy in a gray jacket, looking like he’d just gotten out of bed, his hair a bit messy—but that didn’t diminish his good looks in the slightest.
He didn’t smile either, just looked at Li Rui like that, as if he really had just happened to pass by.
Ye Xi: “………”
Damn.
Now that was a real shock—talk about speaking things into existence.
This guy with the cold face and aloof aura—who could it be if not Sheng Yuhe?
Ye Xi had waited with Li Rui outside their university countless times, and was more familiar with that face than even Old Wang.
He couldn’t help thinking—turns out it’s not just the wild lovebirds inside the campus, but plenty outside too.
He glanced to the side, only to see Li Rui sitting there like he’d been hit with a petrification spell—completely frozen, just dumbly staring up at Sheng Yuhe.
It was such a scene that he couldn’t bear to watch. He jabbed Li Rui.
“Take the order.”
He squeezed the words through gritted teeth.
“Oh—oh!”
Li Rui finally snapped out of it, stood up at once—his silver watch chain on his suit swinging as he moved—grabbed the ordering iPad, and fumbled clumsily through the menu.
Ye Xi silently stepped away a bit, giving Li Rui and his crush some space.
But he took out his phone and glanced at it again, his heart growing even heavier.
He thought, What kind of joke is this?
Even Sheng Yuhe showed up—so where the hell was Bai Yue?
Quietly, he busied himself with arranging the silver coffee spoons, sugar tongs, cake spatulas, and complimentary biscuits on the cart.
Trying to distract himself with work.
But just as he was diligently working, two people came over.
Ye Xi didn’t pay attention at first—until he heard a voice so annoyingly familiar it made him flinch.
“Your class only sells cake, bread, oh—and soup. What a lack of creativity. Only six kinds of coffee? You call this a café?”
The person let out a cold laugh, clearly not there to order but to pick a fight.
Ye Xi closed his eyes. Of course, he thought, that annoying voice—who else but Zheng Yang.
He’d completely forgotten that Zheng Yang was also at this school—capable of showing up at any time.
Ye Xi dropped the rag in his hand, his face instantly turning icy—ready to snap back.
But as he looked up—
He was caught off guard, facing a pair of warm, smiling eyes.
Those eyes were usually somewhat sharp—clear and cool, with slightly upturned corners. They had the qualities of peach blossom eyes, but when cold, they held an effortless authority.
Yet the moment they smiled, all the cold vanished, like winter snow melting in spring. A thousand peach blossoms bloomed in a single night.
Those eyes immediately turned tender, like spring water.
Plop.
Ye Xi’s blue rag slipped from his hand onto the table.
Just moments ago, he’d looked ready to fight anyone.
Now, he visibly softened. His eyes flickered, turning into the shy little touch-me-not that hides when poked.
“Bai-ge…”
Ye Xi lowered his gaze. Even his voice went soft, like it was sweetened with honey.
“You’re here.”
“Mm.”
Bai Yue unwound his scarf and draped it over his arm. He had rushed over and even ran into Zheng Yang on the way, which delayed him. His heart had been anxious the entire way, only relaxing once he entered the gym.
He explained to Ye Xi, “I wanted to come earlier, but my senior suddenly asked me for help this morning. I just finished and rushed here.”
He took a step closer, saying sincerely, “Sorry for being late. I was worried you’d already changed shifts.”
“No, no,” Ye Xi shook his head like a rattle drum, forgetting all the hurt feelings from earlier—forgetting he had even mentally complained that Bai Yue was slower than Sheng Yuhe. “You’re not late at all. We’ll be open for quite a while.”
He immediately snatched the iPad from Zheng Yang without sparing him a glance and eagerly handed it to Bai Yue: “Bai-ge, take a look—what do you want? It’s on me.”
He beamed at Bai Yue, dimples popping out adorably.
Zheng Yang: “……”
He stared at his now-empty hands, then over at Ye Xi, who was already diligently taking Bai Yue’s order.
Damn.
He could hardly believe it.
Was he invisible?
He was standing right there—a whole living person—and Ye Xi acted like he didn’t see him at all?
