Chapter 18: She Always Carries Lemon Candy (Part 2)

Zhao Qingning set her tray down across from him, opting for the standard student meal: two meats, one veg, and a soup.

Lin Zhiyi had board noodles.

Then, he noticed Zhao Qingning’s appetite was huge—bigger than his, even.

Eating like that daily, yet not a pound overweight; must mean she worked out a ton.

Zhao Qingning was tall and lithe, with fair, slender legs and toned forearms hinting at strength.

Athlete through and through; last sports fest, she’d run long- and short-distance, snagging double gold.

Catching his somewhat surprised gaze, she smiled sheepishly.

“I eat a lot.”

“That’s great.”

Lin Zhiyi grinned, infected by the girl’s vibrant, youthful beam.

After diving headfirst into work post-college in his past life, it had been years since he’d seen such unclouded sunshine in a smile.

“I like girls with big appetites—it’s a sign of vitality.

Super cute.”

He said it from the heart.

No issue at first, but moments later, seeing a blush creep up Zhao Qingning’s cheeks, he realized it landed wrong.

That came out way too flirty.

You eat a lot.

I like girls who eat a lot.

Sounded like a confession, didn’t it?

“What—teasing me?”

She bit her lip, fixing him with a stare.

“No no no…”

Lin Zhiyi swore to the heavens: he absolutely hadn’t meant to toy with her.

He just didn’t want a growing girl skimping meals over others’ opinions, so he’d voiced support.

Ever since getting a sister, he’d grown prone to such needless fretting.

But Zhao Qingning clearly wasn’t the type to fuss over judgments; he’d meddled pointlessly.

She didn’t press, murmuring softly:

“Then I’ll… eat more…”

“Mm… good…”

Lin Zhiyi mumbled back, his own ears warming faintly.

Did her words carry a double edge too?

You like big eaters, so I’ll pack it away.

Loaded implication— or was he overreading?

No, probably just that; Zhao Qingning was unfussy, casual with words.

From their brief acquaintance, he sensed it.

Like his own brainless slip—she likely tossed out whatever without filter.

Lin Zhiyi shook his head: eat, eat.

Zhao Qingning came off open-hearted, no grudges held; she seemed to shrug off the blip quick, digging in with gusto.

After lunch, they strolled through the school’s man-made scenic spot, crunching along the pebble path toward the dorms.

Towering trees lined the way, branches lush like silent sentinels watching over the campus’s young souls.

The day grew warm; Zhao Qingning seemed a sweater—already glistening, fanning her collar, puffing breaths.

Lin Zhiyi’s eyes drifted to her neck: dewy, graceful swan curve.

Likely from constant training, her skin wasn’t as pale as Cheng Xiran or Lin Yingyuan’s, but a healthy glow—vital, alive.

“Right—here!”

She fished a lemon candy from her pocket.

“This again?

Does Zhao Qingning always carry lemon drops?”

Lin Zhiyi teased.

“Hehe, you bet~”

She winked her right eye playfully.

Lin Zhiyi couldn’t wink one-sided; forcing it just made him look dumb.

Body quirks—like flat vs. rolled tongues, or wiggly ears.

Two girls approached from ahead, calling loudly to Zhao Qingning, eyes curious on Lin Zhiyi, faces teasing—making him squirm.

They passed; behind, whispers turned to giggles.

Zhao Qingning’s ease faltered; she looked aside, picking at her fingers.

“Friends?”

“Roommates.”

She said flatly, avoiding his eyes.

“You okay?”

He sensed the shift, asking curiously.

“Nothing… just told them I wasn’t lunching with them today.

Had to return your phone…

They probably think…”

Lin Zhiyi didn’t follow.

“Think what?”

“Ugh, y’know… never mind.”

Their route hit the girls’ dorm first—her stop.

She chirped a bright “Bye,” waving over her shoulder at the door.

Lin Zhiyi waved back.

Not a boarder but a commuter, living off-campus with first-year beauty Lin Yingyuan (not like that); he’d come ’cause Huang Zhouxu dragged him to hang.

At the boys’ dorm below, he didn’t head up—instead, detoured to the adjacent campus shop.

No AC in rooms; this had chill.

Some kids loitered here for the cool.

Deep in the aisles for water, he bumped into her by the freezer.

The high-ponytailed girl squatted, eyes toggling between two yogurts, settling on strawberry.

Lin Zhiyi greeted:

“Class monitor.”

She looked up, locking on his eyes instantly.

Lin Zhiyi grabbed an iced water, turning quick:

“Bye.”

“Wait—Lin Zhiyi.”

“What’s up?”

“I have a question.”

Lin Zhiyi watched curiously, waiting.

She smiled softly:

“Why… haven’t you replied to my messages?”

Lin Zhiyi realized:

“Phone got nabbed this morning.

Gou—er, Teacher Xun—said office pickup after school; guess I’ll need a reflection too.”

Cheng Xiran blinked, brow furrowing faintly.

“It’s fine—don’t worry.”

Ignoring him, she nibbled her finger, mulling; suddenly, she spun and left.

Lin Zhiyi stared after her back, wondering: she wouldn’t fetch it for me, would she?

Nah—too presumptuous; like the world’s orbiting him.

He hadn’t mentioned Zhao Qingning’s stealth return—her “abusing authority” to snag it; spilling felt like ratting her out.

Whatever—go.

Into the dorm, he twisted the iced water, chugging half in one go.

In this summer heat, that cool rush from throat to core…

“Life-saver.”

Cheng Xiran entered the faculty office, heading to a corner desk.

Xun spotted her, smile blooming oily:

“Ah, little Cheng—saw your dad’s interview in Ninghai Daily lately.

Young and accomplished, industry elite; his daughter’s smart and pretty, always top of the school, blah blah—a stream of fawning flattery.

Cheng Xiran ignored him, rifling through the pile of confiscated phones.

Long search, but the one she sought never surfaced.

Her hand stilled.

“Something wrong—friend’s phone?

Take it; skips the reflection.”

Gou smiled.

“Nothing.”

Cheng Xiran mused, then turned and left the office.