Chapter 7: Stubborn Denial

Ji Pei didn’t fall asleep until after 6 a.m., waking up past 3 p.m.

She expected her two cats and dog to be scratching at the door, starving, but when she opened it, Ji Fan was sitting on the floor, playing a clapping game with the rescued golden retriever.

Ji Pei looked surprised.

“Why aren’t you in class? No attendance?”

Ji Fan tugged the dog’s ears, staring at Ji Pei’s chest and gesturing to zip up her top.

“No class this afternoon.”

Ji Pei rubbed her eyes, adjusting her pajama collar. Seeing Ji Fan acting normal, she couldn’t help but ask,

“So… about yesterday, did you sort it out?”

At the mention of yesterday, Ji Fan’s calm expression flickered slightly.

“All sorted.”

Ji Fan changed the subject.

“Sis, how’d you sleep till the afternoon? Weren’t you all about building good habits?”

Ji Pei walked to the kitchen, pouring herself a glass of ice water. Sipping it, she sighed,

“Who was crying in my room at 3 a.m.? I was worried about you all night, you heartless little thing.”

Ji Fan touched her nose guiltily.

“I made you bird’s nest and white fungus porridge. It’s warming in the pot—go drink it.”

“Bird’s nest? Where’d you get that?”

Ji Fan didn’t seem like the health-conscious type, always staying up until dawn.

“Mom sent it from Switzerland, saying it’s some fancy stuff. I opened it, and it was full of feathers. Took me all morning to clean.”

If Liu Yanfen sent it, it was probably something she couldn’t finish or some overpriced, unpalatable health food.

The bird’s nest was likely the latter.

The thought of swallowing bird saliva made Ji Pei grimace. She opened the steamer, took out a small bowl of the porridge, and sniffed it.

It smelled of osmanthus and honey, sticky and stringy when stirred.

Ji Pei set the bowl down, grabbed a jacket, and changed shoes at the entrance, fleeing before Ji Fan could speak.

“Make me eat bird spit? Not unless you hold a knife to my throat.”

“I’ve got plans tonight, so I won’t be back for dinner. Fend for yourself.”

***

Outside, Ji Pei realized she hadn’t checked the messaging app since waking up.

No new messages—Dongri hadn’t texted her all day, a first.

Did she sleep in late like Ji Pei? That didn’t add up.

Pouting, Ji Pei sat on a bench in the community garden, opened the app, and scrolled through Dongri’s profile.

It was clean and simple, with a Kafka quote as her bio:

*Any suffering can bring me down.*

Ji Pei mouthed the words, her lips curving slightly, but her smile faded as she noticed something odd.

She’d seen that quote somewhere else.

Curious and puzzled, she opened WeChat, clicked on Jiang Xihan’s profile, and checked her bio.

The great demon Jiang Xihan had the same Kafka quote!

Great minds think alike, Ji Pei thought, unable to recall where she’d heard it before.

She hadn’t expected both Dongri and Jiang Xihan to love Kafka and use the same quote. It had to be a coincidence.

Yawning, Ji Pei stood from the bench, stretched, and recalled another Kafka quote. She posted it on Moments:

“Waking up this early makes you stupid. People need sleep.”

After posting, she grabbed a shared bike and pedaled to A University’s east gate.

Stopping, she remembered her plan to eat braised chicken rice at the cafeteria.

That day had been so unlucky, her mood so low, she’d left campus without eating, forgetting all about it.

Ji Pei opened WeChat, found Ye Wenzhu’s chat, and sent a long voice message.

At the flower shop, Ye Wenzhu was pulling cactus spines from a customer’s hand after they’d accidentally slapped a pot.

Playing the voice message, she deftly removed the spines and gifted the cactus to the customer.

Ji Pei: “I’m at the school gate. It’s almost dinnertime. Come join me—we’re hitting the new east cafeteria for braised chicken rice.”

***

Ye Wenzhu hadn’t been back to school in ages, and the mention of braised chicken rice made her mouth water.

A University excelled in everything, especially its cafeteria—cheap, hearty, and delicious. In four years, she rarely ordered takeout, gaining nearly 20 pounds from cafeteria food.

Her shop wasn’t far from campus, so she rode her electric scooter over.

“Afternoon!”

Seeing Ji Pei’s dark circles, Ye Wenzhu gave her a scrutinizing look.

“Didn’t sleep well? Were you up late with your partner… doing stuff?”

“Shut up. Nothing happened.”

They needed to scan their faces to enter campus. Ji Pei flirted with a familiar security guard at the booth, and he let them in through a side gate.

Ye Wenzhu grinned kindly.

“I don’t buy it. We’re adults—nothing to be shy about.”

Ji Pei sighed helplessly.

“Why would I lie? We haven’t met in person yet. Once we do, maybe…”

Ye Wenzhu recalled yesterday’s air-freighted rose order and probed, “By the way, what’s your online partner’s name?”

“Her username or real name?”

Dongri didn’t sound like a real name.

Ye Wenzhu: “Username.”

“She’s called Dongri.”

Just as she thought!

Seeing Ye Wenzhu’s sly smile, Ji Pei asked,

“What’s with that look?”

“Nothing, nothing. It’s a meaningful name.”

Ye Wenzhu turned away, stifling a laugh, then regained her composure.

They crossed a stone bridge. Ye Wenzhu was already tired, checking her watch—it was past 4 p.m., less than half an hour until classes ended.

“This campus is too big. We can’t use bus cards, so we’re stuck walking.”

Ji Pei glanced at the bikes parked nearby. “There’s a bike. Ride one.”

Ye Wenzhu shook her head, clearly spooked.

“No way. You know some psychopath hid a toothpick in a bike seat once—nearly pierced my butt.”

Ji Pei rubbed her arms, goosebumps rising.

“Be glad it wasn’t a needle.”

The tree-lined path ended, and as Ji Pei turned the corner, she ran into a familiar face—the philosophy professor she’d labeled “Anti-Human Creature” in her WeChat.

Jiang Xihan had likely just finished class, accompanied by the assistant who’d comforted Ji Pei yesterday—Bai Yin, was it?

Bai Yin’s eyes crinkled as she smiled and greeted,

“What a coincidence, Ji Pei! We meet again.”

Ji Pei, feeling guilty, nodded politely.

“Yeah, what a coincidence, running into you here.”

A chill ran down her spine. She stole a glance at Jiang Xihan beside Bai Yin, sensing an icy aura around her.

Having greeted Bai Yin, ignoring Jiang Xihan felt rude.

Ji Pei forced a smile, nodding at her.

“Good to see you again, Professor Jiang.”

Ye Wenzhu quickly followed suit.

“Hello, Professor Jiang.”

From the moment she saw Jiang Xihan, Ye Wenzhu felt she looked familiar—stunning yet cold, like someone she’d seen before.

Jiang… could it be the Jiang Xihan?

Ye Wenzhu glanced at Ji Pei. How did she know Jiang Xihan, and why was her assistant so friendly with her?

Jiang Xihan’s stern expression softened as she looked into Ji Pei’s eyes, saying in front of the others,

“About yesterday, I was just doing my job. How’s Ji Fan doing? Is she home?”

Ye Wenzhu’s shock grew. She stared at Ji Pei’s profile, lips pursed, silent.

How did these two know each other? How were they talking about Ji Pei’s sister?

Were they relatives? Ji Pei had never mentioned this.

Ji Pei smiled faintly.

“Thanks for your concern, Professor Jiang. My sister’s home, feeding the dog.”

The four of them stood together, awkwardly mismatched.

Sensing the tension, Bai Yin changed the topic.

“Ji Pei, what brings you back? Promoting the school?”

Ji Pei laughed.

“Senior, our school’s top three in national fame. It doesn’t need my promotion.”

Bai Yin adjusted her backpack, winking at Ji Pei.

“Then why’re you here? Don’t tell me…”

“No, we’re just craving cafeteria food. Heard there’s a new building, so my friend and I came to try it.”

Bai Yin lit up, finding a kindred spirit.

“The new cafeteria? They hired pro chefs from all over the country—every cuisine, all amazing.”

Ji Pei’s eyes sparkled.

“Let’s go together then.”

She glanced at Jiang Xihan, meeting her calm gaze, and cautiously asked,

“Professor Jiang, we’re heading to the cafeteria for dinner. Want to join?”

The B City breeze felt dry, rustling yellowed leaves. A golden leaf landed on Ji Pei’s shoe.

Jiang Xihan glanced down, nodding.

“Sure, I haven’t eaten at the cafeteria in a while. Good chance to try the new dishes.”

Bai Yin nearly snapped to attention, her face showing rare shock.

“Professor Jiang, I have never seen you eat out?”

Ji Pei: “…”

Ye Wenzhu: “…”

Jiang Xihan locked eyes with Ji Pei, unfazed.

“Not true.”