Chapter 9: Ice Cream Cone

Jiang Xihan held the ice cream cone, taking a delicate bite of its tip under the watchful eyes of Ye Wenzhu and Bai Yin.

It was cold, refreshing, with a sweet strawberry fragrance.

Ji Pei instinctively turned away, feeling it was somehow wrong to stare at Jiang Xihan eating.

It was just an ice cream cone—everyone’s had one.

Sure, Jiang Xihan ate elegantly, but Ji Pei had no reason to keep gawking.

Her thoughts drifted to Dongri, who’d “banished her to the cold palace,” not messaging her all day. Ji Pei tapped her phone screen, wondering what Dongri was up to.

From what Dongri had said before, she wasn’t a student—maybe a staff member at A University.

A janitor passed by with a broom. Ji Pei shook her head—no way Dongri was a cleaning lady.

She wanted to check the app to see how far she was from Dongri, but her ice cream melted, dripping all over her hand.

Ye Wenzhu quickly handed her a tissue. Ji Pei wiped it off, finished the cone in a few bites, and tossed the wrapper in the trash.

The other two had finished, but Jiang Xihan was still holding half her cone.

Ji Pei sometimes wondered if Jiang Xihan was made of ice, eating so slowly and meticulously. Why didn’t her ice cream melt?

It wasn’t like Jiang Xihan eating ice cream was the Mona Lisa’s smile, so why did Ji Pei find it so fascinating?

Shifting her gaze, she saw Ye Wenzhu and Bai Yin had reached the school gate.

Ye Wenzhu elbowed Ji Pei’s back, whispering, “We’re getting fried skewers at the gate. Ask Professor Jiang if she wants some.”

Ji Pei was stunned, glancing at Jiang Xihan, who was nibbling her cone, and lowered her voice.

“You’re paying—why don’t *you* ask? Why make me do it? What’s your game, Ye Wenzhu?”

Ye Wenzhu’s lips curved.

“I’m giving you a chance to shine. You deceived her yesterday—you gotta make up for it today.”

Ji Pei was shocked.

“Yesterday? How do you know what happened?”

Ye Wenzhu nodded toward Bai Yin.

“Bai Yin told me. You went to class for Ji Fan, got caught by Jiang Xihan, lost all your participation points, and failed on the spot.”

Ji Pei tried to reason.

“Failed on the spot? I only failed after she called me to her office—”

Before she could finish, Jiang Xihan approached.

Ye Wenzhu bolted to the barbecue stall to join Bai Yin, whispering and glancing back.

Ji Pei gritted her teeth. Ye Wenzhu was unreliable, and today she’d taught her a lesson.

“Professor Jiang, Senior Bai Yin and Wenzhu are getting fried skewers. Want some?”

Ji Pei mustered her courage, though she figured someone as refined as Jiang Xihan wouldn’t touch street food.

As expected, Jiang Xihan said,

“I don’t eat street food.”

Ji Pei nodded, pulling out her phone.

“Okay, I’ll message Wenzhu.”

With the recent cold snap, Ji Pei wore a cream-colored coat. She sent a message to Ye Wenzhu, then turned and bumped into something.

It was Jiang Xihan’s half-eaten strawberry cone, its melted ice cream smearing all over her sleeve.

Both froze. Jiang Xihan pulled her hand back, apologetic.

“Sorry, I didn’t see where I was going.”

Ji Pei accepted her bad luck, wiping her sleeve with Ye Wenzhu’s tissues and smiling.

“It’s okay, Professor Jiang.”

Jiang Xihan eyed the large pink stain.

“Take it off. I’ll wash it and return it to you.”

“…”

Ji Pei thought she’d misheard, her brain glitching. She blinked, convinced Jiang Xihan had been possessed.

“No… no need, Professor Jiang. I’ll toss it in the washing machine at home.”

Jiang Xihan insisted,

“I dirtied your clothes. I should clean them.”

Staring into Jiang Xihan’s earnest eyes, Ji Pei realized she wasn’t joking.

But… how could she let Jiang Xihan wash her clothes, even if she did cause the stain?

Yet, meeting Jiang Xihan’s gaze, Ji Pei nodded as if bewitched.

Though autumn had arrived, B City’s temperature hadn’t dropped much.

Under her coat, Ji Pei wore pink rabbit pajamas with two sewn-on bunny ears on the back—something she only wore at home, covering it with a coat even to take out the trash.

The pajamas were a matching set Ji Fan bought, insisting they both wear them to sleep.

Too lazy to change before coming to campus for a quick meal, Ji Pei had thrown on the coat.

Jiang Xihan continued,

“Take off the coat. Aren’t you hot in that?”

She’d been puzzled since the afternoon—everyone else wore short sleeves, but Ji Pei stood out in her coat.

Ji Pei slowly unbuttoned her coat, moving as if in 0.5x speed.

“I’m not that hot.”

When she finally took it off, Jiang Xihan understood her reluctance.

Ye Wenzhu and Bai Yin were busy buying barbecue at the stall, missing the scene.

When Ye Wenzhu returned with grilled squid, she noticed Ji Pei’s coat was gone, revealing her pink rabbit pajamas.

Jiang Xihan’s gaze lingered on the bunny ears, realizing why Ji Pei had been so hesitant to undress.

She was shy in front of her.

But those bunny ears were cute, soft and pink, like Ji Pei’s flushed cheeks from embarrassment.

Jiang Xihan folded Ji Pei’s coat and tucked it into her bag.

Ji Pei, facing away, took a skewer from Ye Wenzhu and bit into it vengefully, snapping the bamboo stick in two.

Ye Wenzhu was shocked.

“Ji Pei, where’s your coat?”

She tugged at the bunny ears, munching on squid.

Ji Pei mumbled, but Jiang Xihan answered for her.

“It’s with me.”

Ye Wenzhu’s shock grew. She grabbed Ji Pei’s arm—

“You said you had an online girlfriend. Why’d you give your coat to Jiang Xihan, you fickle woman?”

Ji Pei: “…”

Too tired to explain.

As dusk fell, Jiang Xihan left, leaving Ji Pei, Ye Wenzhu, and Bai Yin on the tree-lined path.

Tomorrow was Saturday, no classes. Bai Yin didn’t want to go home early, so she invited her new friends to karaoke.

Ji Pei had no plans—her art exhibition wasn’t until Thursday.

Ye Wenzhu called Chen Yingying, saying she’d be back late and to mind the shop, then hopped into Bai Yin’s car.

Ji Pei sat in the passenger seat. The three chatted about Jiang Xihan’s exploits.

Whenever Bai Yin mentioned Jiang Xihan, her eyes sparkled like a die-hard fan.

“You don’t know, but Professor Jiang’s really great, just a bit strict.”

Ji Pei sipped her milk, debunking her.

“I heard she took blood pressure meds for a semester while tutoring you for grad school.”

Bai Yin stammered,

“That’s… not true…”

Ye Wenzhu gave a knowing look, sitting in the back, enjoying the night breeze.

“But Professor Jiang’s genuinely good. She sponsored my education when I couldn’t afford it.”

Bai Yin’s eyes twinkled, gazing ahead dreamily.

“My family was poor. My parents didn’t want me to go to high school. She funded me to keep studying.”

“I got into A University because of her and chose philosophy.”

Ji Pei hadn’t expected such a backstory. Her view of Jiang Xihan softened, and she felt guilty for complaining about her to Dongri.

She opened the app, checked her chat with Dongri, and saw a recent message.

Dongri: [I’m home.]

Ji Pei typed back.

Jifeng: [I’m going to karaoke with friends. What song do you want? I’ll sing it for you over the phone.]

Dongri: [Anything you sing sounds good.]

Ji Pei smiled, satisfied. Such a sweet talker.

After chatting with Dongri, she opened WeChat Moments to clear notifications.

She noticed Jiang Xihan had posted again.

Half of Jiang Xihan’s body was in the frame, holding a watering can, tending to a bonsai.

Her slender, pale fingers looked like polished ivory under warm yellow light.

Ji Pei blurted,

“Does Professor Jiang have a photography team? Her Moments posts are so well-composed.”

Bai Yin looked confused.

“What? Professor Jiang posted on Moments? I didn’t see it.”

Ji Pei showed her the screen, pointing to Jiang Xihan’s hazy photo from yesterday.

“Look, she just posted.”

Bai Yin’s eyes widened. She rubbed them, opened her WeChat, and checked Jiang Xihan’s Moments—empty.

“There’s nothing on my Moments!”

She refreshed repeatedly, devastated by the harsh reality, her face crumpling.

“She blocked me from her Moments? Am I not her favorite student anymore?”

Ji Pei hadn’t expected such a complex teacher-student dynamic. Bai Yin hadn’t done anything terrible—why would Jiang Xihan block her?

Patting Bai Yin’s shoulder, Ji Pei comforted,

“It’s okay. The fact that she hid taking blood pressure meds from you shows how much she cares.”