Everything in Bai Ying’s home was portioned for one person. After entering the apartment, he realized there were no paper cups. He rummaged through the top cabinet in the kitchen for a good while before finding a teacup that had come free with a tube of toothpaste.
“Senior, do you need help?” Lu Changjun walked over.
Bai Ying had stored all the unused cups and dishes in the cabinet that was one point seven meters off the ground. Even with his height of one point eight meters, he had to stand on tiptoe to reach. The teacup was placed too far back inside. Lu Changjun glanced down and saw that when Bai Ying stretched his body as far as he could, his hoodie was pulled up, revealing a glimpse of snow-white skin underneath.
Lu Changjun steadied his waist with one hand and easily retrieved the teacup.
It was only then that Bai Ying noticed Xiao Lu was actually a bit taller than him—probably around one point nine meters. But since his build was so well-proportioned, it wasn’t obvious at first glance.
Lu Changjun peeled off the paper packaging and rinsed the cup under the faucet. He glanced at Bai Ying’s teacup next to the teapot not far away and noticed it was the same style, just a different color.
Lu Changjun immediately felt smug. He almost wanted to knock on the neighbor’s door and brag to that annoying guy: Xiao Lu and Senior have matching couple teacups—do you?
Bai Ying felt like his task had been snatched away.
He leaned both hands on the counter, watching Lu Changjun wash the cup. Bai Ying had long known that Xiao Lu was a very capable person. He had no prior experience in the relevant field, but he picked things up instantly and performed no worse than veterans with over a decade in the industry. Of course, this wasn’t because Xiao Lu had some innate “advertising prodigy” constitution—it was simply that talented people excelled in any field they entered.
This often left Bai Ying puzzled.
“Xiao Lu, why did you come to intern at Zhonghe?” Bai Ying asked. The kitchen had only a small light on, and under the dim glow, their expressions were hazy and indistinct—perfect for some casual chat. “I remember you’re studying finance. Even if you wanted to get into advertising, with your qualifications, you had better options.”
Lu Changjun looked at him, his eyes bright and focused. “Senior doesn’t remember?”
Bai Ying didn’t understand. “Huh?”
Lu Changjun said, “Back then, during Shenda’s fall recruitment, it was you who came from Zhonghe.”
In truth, Bai Ying hadn’t been the only one who went.
How could they send just one person? At the time, Duan Yunjin and a colleague from the design team were holding down the fort at the company, arguing with the client. It was someone from another team who went with Bai Ying. The two of them set up a tiny booth in a corner of the Shenda fall recruitment site—small, pitiful, and utterly unnoticeable.
As a top-five university nationwide, Shenda’s recruitment fair was packed with heavyweights. Zhonghe was like a little trash company relegated to the dingiest corner, trembling under the aura of the big players. If Zhonghe hadn’t been a local business, they probably wouldn’t have even gotten in.
Bai Ying hadn’t expected to recruit anyone. Even Shenda’s least competitive majors probably wouldn’t look twice at their company, and they were only hiring interns this time. He was basically just there to make an appearance.
His colleague agreed—their spot was so remote that hardly anyone passed by. The few students who did took one look at this unheard-of company hiring only interns and walked away. The two of them ended up hunkered behind the booth, playing on their phones.
It was pretty nice—paid phone time, with the only downside being the noisy environment.
Suddenly, the colleague felt a stomachache and dashed off to the bathroom. Bai Ying was left guarding the booth alone.
That was when Lu Changjun strolled over, hands in his pockets, wandering aimlessly. Young Master Lu didn’t need a job, of course—he was just bored and wanted to soak in the atmosphere. He was familiar with all the big companies in the prime spots; some were even his family’s. After glancing around, he found them boring and deliberately headed to the corners.
There were plenty of companies like Zhonghe, huddled in the shadows—selling insurance, recruiting streamers, claiming to train influencers… Zhonghe actually seemed relatively normal among them.
Lu Changjun hadn’t expected such a cramped corner to squeeze in another booth.
“Zhonghe Media…” Lu Changjun read the company name aloud. He’d never heard of it.
His voice made the lone staffer behind the booth look up. Though he had zero hopes of recruiting, Bai Ying still greeted him professionally when someone showed up. “Would the student like to learn more?”
Lu Changjun had actually planned to leave after one glance.
But the person behind the booth, whom he hadn’t noticed before, lifted his eyes—eyes like rippling autumn waters, serene and captivating. Amid the noisy chaos of the recruitment fair, those tranquil eyes and that clear, elegant face suddenly silenced all the clamor.
Lu Changjun decided there was nothing left to learn. “You’re recruiting interns here? Think I could make the cut?”
Bai Ying was shocked.
No way—did a Shenda student really want to intern at this no-name company?
But Lu Changjun grabbed the form and filled it out in a flash, as if afraid Bai Ying might change his mind.
Bai Ying felt like he was watching an innocent young man veer onto the wrong path and promptly betrayed the company without hesitation. “Our company is pretty average. It won’t give you a great resume, and there’s probably no chance of conversion to full-time after the internship.”
“No problem. I just need some internship experience.” Lu Changjun lied through his teeth with a straight face.
When he handed the completed form back to Bai Ying, their fingers brushed. Bai Ying’s skin was snow-white and soft, as if it would mark easily at the slightest touch—making one feign concern while itching to try.
In an obscure corner of the mundane world hid a pearl.
Lu Changjun felt like he’d come to the right place that day. He exchanged WeChat with Bai Ying, deliberately putting on a sunny, open, and utterly guileless expression. “Senior, take good care of me from now on.”
Bai Ying nodded, and from then on, Lu Changjun had a legitimate excuse to cling to him.
Of course Bai Ying remembered that he’d been the one to receive Lu Changjun back then. But in Lu Changjun’s telling, he seemed to be the sole reason Xiao Lu had joined Zhonghe.
No way…
Lu Changjun said, “Senior is so gentle and patient. The moment I saw you, I knew your company had to be a good one.”
Bai Ying suddenly felt a pang of guilt. Sorry—it’s my fault you ended up at this dump!
The guilty Bai Ying dug out his stash of precious snacks and piled them all in front of Xiao Lu.
“Senior really loves sweets,” Lu Changjun said, eyeing the colorful assortment of candies. He suspected Senior swept the entire candy aisle at the supermarket, grabbing one of each. After eating so much sugar, did Senior’s mouth taste sweet too?
Bai Ying hugged his cloud-shaped pillow and suddenly felt a bit embarrassed. Did loving sweets make him seem too childish?
“There should be some salty crackers around here too. Let me look?” Bai Ying racked his brain.
“No need. I’m fine with whatever Senior eats.” Lu Changjun unwrapped a toffee and popped it into his mouth. The sweetness spread, as if he’d already tasted Bai Ying’s flavor.
“By the way, Senior, why did you ask last night if I like snakes?” Lu Changjun asked. He’d racked his brain all night over the deeper meaning, nearly staying up until dawn.
“Uh, because… because…” Bai Ying clutched a corner of the pillow.
How was he supposed to answer that?
Because there’s a little white snake who doesn’t want to go to work and urgently needs a snake lover to adopt it—and oh, by the way, that little white snake is me!
…No, absolutely not!
Bai Ying felt his brain cells dying off in droves. Fortunately, a kind soul came to his rescue.
“Because Senior likes snakes?” Xiao Lu, the kind soul, asked.
“…Exactly!” A lightbulb went off in Bai Ying’s head. “I’m looking for fellow enthusiasts!”
Yes, perfect. Bai Ying suddenly realized he could position himself as a fellow snake lover and subtly probe if this snake enthusiast wanted to adopt a little white snake from him. Start as enthusiasts, move to pet owner, then merge the two—gradual, like boiling a frog in warm water. Little by little, get someone to accept that the person was a snake and the snake was a person. He was a genius!
“So that’s it. Looks like the tickets I asked my friend for will come in handy.” Lu Changjun breathed a sigh of relief. Good thing he hadn’t guessed wrong—Senior really did like snakes.
Bai Ying blinked in confusion. “What tickets?”
“In a bit, Yishan Wildlife Protection Base is holding a snake exhibition, right when we’re on break.” Lu Changjun grinned brightly. “Senior, let’s go together.”
***
Bai Ying agreed.
Though as a snake demon, the idea of his fellow snakes being put on display by humans felt like absolute hell, he still said yes to maintain his snake-enthusiast persona.
“It’s a deal then, Senior—you have to come.” As he left Bai Ying’s apartment, Lu Changjun raised his voice just as the door across the hall “happened” to open.
“Got it, got it.” Bai Ying replied helplessly. Xiao Lu seemed really excited about the snake exhibition—did he like snakes that much?
A qualified pet owner needed not just patience and responsibility, but above all, love for the pet. The first two stemmed from the latter.
If only Xiao Lu weren’t a student.
Bai Ying thought to himself.
Tan Ming stepped out from across the hall, holding a plate. He gave a cold glance to the deliberately showy Lu Changjun, but his gaze softened instantly toward Bai Ying. “What’s got you so excited?”
Bai Ying said, “We made plans to hang out during the break.”
“Oh.” Tan Ming nodded in realization. “He’s still a student, right? Yeah, kids like to play.”
Lu Changjun: “…” What did this guy mean, acting like he and Senior were peers? On purpose? He was only four years younger than Senior!
Lu Changjun slung an arm over Bai Ying’s shoulder and flashed a fake smile at Tan Ming. “Us young folks like to get out and about during breaks. Someone your age is better off staying home—wouldn’t want you bumping into things out there.”
Tan Ming’s fist clenched. He was only four years older than Bai Ying!
Bai Ying’s scalp tingled. Why did it feel like these two started trading barbs the moment they met? They weren’t that far apart in age—had the generation gap gotten this bad?
Bai Ying tried to change the subject. “Tan Ming, are these egg tarts you made?”
“Yeah, since I didn’t know your taste, I made a few kinds.” Tan Ming’s voice softened again. “Plain, taro paste, strawberry… I can make lots of varieties. Tell me your favorites.”
He shot a casual glance at Lu Changjun: Can you?
Lu Changjun clenched his fist. He really couldn’t!
He could buy them, sure, but they wouldn’t measure up if they weren’t homemade. Lu Changjun gritted his teeth inwardly—he’d go home tonight and train with the chef to master cooking!
“But different kinds of egg tarts, or other desserts, require different ingredients.” Tan Ming pivoted. “If you’re free, come grocery shopping with me?”
“Sure,” Bai Ying agreed right away. He needed to restock household supplies anyway. “After work this weekend, I’ll have three days off.”
Lu Changjun said wistfully, “Senior, one of those days is mine.”
Bai Ying: “…Yeah, two days left!”
“Let’s keep in touch then.” Tan Ming handed the plate to Bai Ying. “Try one—best while hot.”
Tan Ming had brought four egg tarts: two plain, one taro paste, one strawberry.
Bai Ying had a brainstorm—a great way to ease tensions between his neighbor and Xiao Lu.
“Xiao Lu, try one.” Bai Ying held a plain one to Lu Changjun’s mouth. “Tan Ming’s stuff is delicious.”
Lu Changjun: “…” Didn’t want to, but it was Senior feeding him.
Tan Ming: “…” Just think of it as feeding the dog.
Lu Changjun ate it in aggrieved sweetness, while Tan Ming, praised and equally sweet yet aggrieved, watched his rival eat. Bai Ying breathed a sigh of relief, figuring they’d made up.
Great—nothing food couldn’t reconcile!
