Chapter Text
Maomao rifled through her clothes, trying to decide what to wear. Her closet wasn’t anything to brag about—mostly practical pieces and neutral tones.
Just as she tugged a plain shirt off a hanger, Meimei poked her head in.
“Are you off to see Xiaolan and Shisui?”
Maomao glanced over her shoulder. “You say it like you know them well.”
Meimei giggled. “They’re such sweet girls. I’m really glad you met them! Oh—if you’re going to see them, maybe I should make something.”
Maomao waved a hand dismissively. “Don’t bother, I’m not seeing them today.”
“Huh? Then who are you seeing?” She tilted her head.
“The president of the student council,” she said coolly. “He said there was this exhibition I’d like. So we’re going.”
Meimei blinked. “He?”
“Yes,” Maomao nodded, chuckling to herself as she thought of the exhibits. She was oddly looking forward to it.
“A boy?”
Oh—right. Meimei must’ve caught a glimpse of him that one time he brought her home. She probably assumed Jinshi was a girl. Maomao shook her head.
Rookie mistake.
While he looks as beautiful as a girl, he is very much—a boy.
Meimei stared at her, a hint of horror creeping into her expression as Maomao pulled on her usual trousers.
“Is it just you and him?” she questioned.
“Yes. He asked me—”
“Maomao!” Meimei came and placed both hands firmly on her shoulders.
She blinked at her sudden seriousness.
“What happened to those nice clothes you bought during Golden Week?”
“We’re going to be walking around a garden. I don’t want to get them dirty.”
“That won’t do at all.” Meimei brushed past her, flinging open her closet with the air of a stylist on a mission.
She started rummaging through. “This dress? What about it?”
Maomao squinted. “It’s really girlish.”
“Well, you are a girl.”
“It’s not practical either,” Maomao added, hoping logic might deter her. “How am I supposed to get in the soil in that?”
But Meimei wasn’t listening. Her eyes were already scanning Maomao up and down like she was planning a full makeover.
“When are you meeting him?”
“At the station in about an hour.”
“I’ll call for reinforcements...” Meimei shoved the dress into Maomao’s hands and rushed out, already calling for Pairin and Joka down the hallway.
Maomao sighed. She really should’ve just left without saying anything.
All that fuss ended up making her late.
She walked briskly to the station, her skirt fluttering around her legs with every step. The breeze tugged at the hem, light but annoying.
She glanced around once she arrived—and Jinshi wasn’t hard to find. He never was. Like a beacon of light… in the most obnoxious way possible.
A small group of girls had gathered around him, as per usual.
One clutched her phone, clearly angling for a selfie, and another giggled too loudly at something he didn’t even say.
Jinshi, for his part, looked like he was trying to maintain politeness—nodding, smiling faintly—but there was an awkward stiffness in his shoulders, the subtle twitch of someone clearly looking for an escape.
Maomao stopped a short distance away. She wasn’t about to insert herself into that mess.
The last thing she wanted was to be mistaken for another admirer.
But then—he spotted her first.
Their eyes met for just a second before Jinshi lit up, visibly brightening as if someone had flipped a switch.
With a smooth excuse and a shallow bow to the girls, he broke away from the cluster. He strode right through them and, without asking, threw his arm around Maomao’s shoulder.
“Sorry, I’m out with her today,” he said, flashing a smile too smug to be sincere.
Don’t drag me into your nonsense, her glare said loud and clear.
The girls stared, stunned.
A few gasped. Their eyes flicked to Maomao, scanning her head to toe—mumbling under their breath, probably nothing kind. Then, with one last look, they dispersed.
Jinshi exhaled, arm still loosely hanging around her. “They were really persistent today,” he muttered, half an apology.
Maomao calmly lifted his arm off her shoulder and took an obvious step away.
“Well, that’s life,” she said flatly.
Your life, specifically…
A beat of silence passed. They looked at each other.
He tilted his head slightly at the sight of her.
“Do I have something on my face?” Maomao asked.
Well technically—yes. Her sisters had cornered her earlier and insisted on “fixing her up.” Light mascara, a bit of gloss, hair curled to one side and pinned with a bow.
She hadn’t fought back hard enough.
“Ah—it’s just…” Jinshi hesitated, scratching his cheek. “I didn’t think you’d dress up if it was just me.”
Yeah, me neither.
He cleared his throat. “You look…” he started, sounding a little nervous.
“I look…?”
“…Nothing. It’s just different.” He looked away.
Maomao blinked. She felt like she was getting deja vu.
Anyway, she was only wearing a soft white dress under a cardigan, with a small handbag swinging at her side to match. Her hair was brushed over her shoulder, tied neatly.
She was going to have to tread carefully today if she didn’t want to ruin the whole thing in mud.
Her and Jinshi had shared plenty of moments alone before, but today felt a little different.
Out of school, in the open air, she couldn’t shake the feeling that eyes were on them.
Maybe it was because she looked a little out of place next to him—he was taller, sharper and more polished, way too shiny in comparison, one could say his beauty was nymph-like.
Maomao, on the other hand, could barely pass the test to be a dull star, so that had to be it.
No other reason.
“Hey, look at this,” Jinshi said suddenly, holding up his phone. They were sat on the train that hummed along the tracks.
“What’s that?”
“We might not get through everything today,” he explained, “This is a map of the exhibit.”
Very organised, she thought.
Maomao leaned over and peered at the phone, tracing the map with her eyes.
The layout was clear: different sections dedicated to rare herbs, ancient medicines, and more.
She could already picture herself wandering through them. A small smile tugged at her lips as anticipation bubbled up inside.
Jinshi cleared his throat, clearly flustered by her closeness.
“You’re really excited about this… aren’t you?” he mumbled.
Maomao nodded, composing herself.
“I’ve never been asked out like this before, so I’m happy.”
The flat expression she wore easily contradicted what she said. No doubt would she be a good ventriloquist.
However, her words were very true.
By “like this”, she meant someone offering to go somewhere she wanted to go. It was often hard to find a common ground among the other two girls who were her usual partners.
Inside, she was buzzing. To spend a whole day where she could explore dangerous herbs and medicines—things she could only read about or experiment with in secret—without consequence?
It was pure heaven.
She was actually a little annoyed that Jinshi had been the one to discover the exhibit first. If anything, she would’ve been fine declining his offer and going alone—but that would’ve been rude.
And she liked to think she wasn’t that.
Maomao glanced over at him and caught him coughing, trying to hide his newfound embarrassment. Her eyes drifted up and she noticed a group of older ladies nearby, smiling at her warmly and giving her thumbs up.
Huh? What did I do? she wondered silently.
The train ride from the city passed quickly with the steady rhythm of the tracks beneath them. The early afternoon sun cast everything in a bright glow.
By the time they got off and walked the short distance to the exhibition grounds, it was well into the busy hours. Families were trickling in, elderly couples strolling at their own pace, kids in groups, couples here and there.
It was warm, but the gentle breeze and shaded pathways kept it pleasant.
The garden gates were open wide, and floral banners danced from the archways. The courtyard was bright with white tents and kiosks, scattered with volunteers that directed foot traffic.
Just by the entrance, a large display stand was stocked with pamphlets and folded maps of the grounds. Maomao beelined to it and plucked a physical copy from the pile.
She opened it up with a soft rustle, standing off to the side as her eyes scanned over the different sections.
She looked especially hard at the section on poisonous plants—that was, until a hand landed down her head.
“Your face is way too excited for what you’re looking at,” Jinshi said from beside her.
Maomao glared up at him and swatted his hand off.
She was here to make the most of this, so whatever. Maomao could hardly care for his opinion. She picked up step, marching onward.
He only sighed and walked along with her.
They followed a wide stone path that curved through the garden. The hedges were perfectly manicured, and bursts of flowers bloomed in beds along the sides.
People shuffled along in loose crowds, parents with strollers, kids tugging at sleeves, murmurs of “Don’t touch that!” blending into the garden’s ambient hum.
Maomao’s mind was fixed on the prized corner of the exhibit. But when she arrived at it, she stopped in her tracks.
The most fascinating, most poisonous herbs were locked behind glass displays, spaced carefully apart. Informative plaques sat in front of each, describing their properties, historical uses, and lethal dosages in precise print.
“Tch…” she clicked her tongue quietly. Figures.
She had assumed she’d be able to get up close. Maybe not poke them, sure, but at least touch the soil, see their roots, study their leaves. But she hadn’t factored in the safety risks, especially with kids running around.
Maomao crouched on the edge of the path near the plants. Jinshi stopped just behind her, watching her silently as she pulled out her phone and held it low to the glass.
She snapped several photos of a narrow-leafed plant with prominent veins and prickly stems. She zoomed in on the nameplate, already plotting.
Maybe I can find these at the market…
Jinshi watched Maomao crouched by the glass, utterly immersed. Her brows were furrowed in deep concentration, fingers tapping lightly on her phone screen as she zoomed in to capture every inch of the poisonous specimens.
The summer light filtered through the trees, casting a soft glow over her.
He hummed to himself. She was so absorbed that it was weird to see. Maomao—drawn out of herself by nothing more than deadly herbs.
He had half a mind to take a photo.
Just one.
The way her hair fell over her shoulder, the way her skirt flared out as she crouched down, and the way her eyes lit up in that very specific, slightly alarming way.
It made a good shot.
So he did.
“Oh—President,”
He startled and almost dropped his phone. Maomao had turned, tapping insistently on the glass.
Jinshi pocketed his phone quickly and walked over, crouching down beside her. She was pointing to a twisted, spiky-stemmed plant suspended behind the glass.
“This one’s actually fascinating. They used to grind it down for pain relief, but at the wrong dose it could cause hallucinations—”
She kept going. And going. And going.
Her voice had a quiet rhythm to it, soft but steady, the kind of tone people take when they’re speaking about something they truly love.
He didn’t interrupt once.
He just watched, a faint smile pulling at the corners of his mouth as she explained in detail how parts of the plant had once been used in assassinations— it was quite morbid, actually.
But he chose not to think about the topic, rather, who was explaining it.
Eventually, Maomao finally caught herself.
She stood up abruptly and brushed imaginary dust off her skirt.
“We don’t have all day.”
Jinshi looked up at her, still crouched. He couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped him. She said that like she wasn’t the one burning up their time.
“That’s true,” he said, standing up despite it.
He followed her steps once more.
They made their way down winding garden paths bordered by shady trees and neat stone fences.
In one area, Jinshi had to tug her back before she cracked open a lid marked “Do Not Open”
In another section, she had begun to ramble to a poor volunteer who only asked if she liked the exhibit.
She leaned far too close over a pond when she saw lotus floating lazily on the water, nearly dropping herself in before Jinshi yanked her back by the collar.
“You’re going to get us escorted out..” he muttered under his breath.
“I was just looking.” she muttered back.
Jinshi sighed and followed along, half-resigned, half-amused.
Still, her joy was infectious.
Her steps had a certain spring to them. She didn’t even notice she was smiling.
And Jinshi… well, he noticed plenty.
We’ve seen pretty much everything..
Despite Jinshi’s early estimate that they’d get through about maybe half the exhibit before burning out, she had stormed through nearly the entire grounds at a terrifyingly efficient pace.
Every display, every label, every interactive element had been absorbed with unnerving precision.
Now, they were inside the main building that the garden circled—sleek and modern, it’s where the gift shop and cafe sat.
The contrast of glass walls and modern architecture was stark after the earthy trails outside.
Jinshi slumped down onto a bench, fanning himself with a folded pamphlet like some sort of noblewoman.
She sat down next to him.
He looked drained. Slightly wilted. Like a flower left in too much sun.
Hm, but that’s exactly what he is, isn’t it?
She scratched her cheek awkwardly and reluctantly gave in.
“Is there anything you wanted to see?”
Jinshi paused mid-fan. “What?”
“I’ve dragged you around all day. I think it’s only fair.” She folded up her map.
His posture straightened immediately, exhaustion mysteriously cured.
“What I want to see…”
She saw the glint in his eye. That never meant anything good.
Jinshi stood up, eyes scanning the room with intent. Maomao briefly considered retracting the offer, but he was already moving.
“There,” he said, pointing ahead.
Maomao followed his gaze to a large rectangular box in the corner of the lobby, gleaming under soft white spot lights.
“…What is that?”
He grinned. “Come on, I’ll show you.”
Before she could protest, he took her hand and pulled her along, his pace quick and smug.
Maomao sighed, stumbling a step.
This must be karma..
She braced herself.
They stepped inside the box—narrower than it looked from the outside. The light dimmed slightly behind them as the curtain slid shut.
A small bench took up most of the space, the walls printed with faded film strips.
Jinshi sat down first, looking a little too smug for her liking, and patted the seat next to him.
Maomao narrowed her eyes, suspicion already creeping in. But she sat anyway, looking around the cramped space.
It felt a bit claustrophobic. Not dangerous—but intimate. She wasn’t sure which was worse.
Jinshi was rummaging in his pockets, then finally fished out some coins.
“I don’t get it,” she said.
“A photobooth,” he replied, inserting the change with a soft clink. “Haven’t you ever used one?”
She shook her head.
That seemed to surprise him. But instead of teasing her, he just smiled, pleased. “Well then, I’ll be your first experience.”
He chuckled as the screen lit up and a countdown began.
5… 4…
“What am I supposed to do?” she asked, frowning at the screen.
“Whatever feels natural,” he said, far too vaguely, his voice laced with mischief.
That helped absolutely no one.
There was a bright flash.
“I don’t think that one was…” She turned to him, blinking.
He was smiling at the screen, so perfectly poised it was like sparkles were bouncing off him. Absolutely unbearable.
She scowled purely on instinct—
Flash!
That was just unfair...!
She didn’t have long to think. Her mind blanked.
Then, without a better idea, she raised her hands in front of her, curled her fingers slightly, and—
Flash!
A cat pose. Why had that come to mind? Ah—that was right. Shisui had made her do something like that once. If she was thinking about that, then she was truly desperate.
The countdown continued.
How many of these are there?
She sighed quietly. Her energy was spent from doing that much. Maybe she’d just... smile?
Simple enough.
She gave the camera a small, polite smile. Then—just before the next flash—she felt movement beside her.
Jinshi shifted closer. An arm slipped casually around her.
She tensed. What is he—?
Flash!
Maomao blinked as the screen dimmed and the timer stopped ticking.
She turned to him sharply. But he was already stepping out of the booth, pretending innocence as always. She followed him out, clearly unconvinced.
He was waiting by the slot where the photos printed, and soon, two strips of card were dispensed.
He took them, stared at it for far longer than he should’ve, and gave a quiet chuckle under his breath.
“Here,” he said, handing her one of the strips.
She raised an eyebrow and looked down at the images:
Just as expected, the first shot was unsatisfactory, her mouth was slightly open, caught talking.
In the second, she was glaring at him, a perfect picture of annoyance.
Then her eyes moved to the third.
She winced.
..Why did I do that?
She looked like someone else entirely, fingers curled to mimic a cat paw. It wasn’t like her at all. Maybe she was tired.
But something else about the image caught her attention.
Her gaze shifted to Jinshi. In that same picture, he wasn’t smiling. He wasn’t even looking at the camera.
He was looking at her.
He looked caught off guard, with his mouth parted ever so slightly.
Must’ve been a glitch.
That kind of expression didn’t make it onto his face. Not him of all people.
Finally, her eyes landed on the fourth photo.
It was the most composed of the bunch. Unplanned, but somehow balanced.
She was smiling—albeit stiffly—and Jinshi had his arm still around her, both of them looking straight at the camera. Too coordinated for something impromptu. Too... close.
I look weird, was all she could muster.
She didn’t want to dwell on it, especially not on the weird warmth still lingering where his hand had held.
She quickly tucked it into her bag like it never existed.
Beside her, Jinshi flipped his copy over and tapped it thoughtfully against his chin.
“What?” she asked.
He gave her a sideways glance, a faint smile playing on his lips. “Nothing. Just... I think we should do this more often.”
“No thank you.” she muttered.
He chuckled.
Then an announcement about the exhibit closing echoed through the building.
Maomao gasped.
She took off without hesitation, and Jinshi blinked before following after her.
There was no way she was missing the chance to squeeze some money out of him at the gift shop—and she did exactly that.
She left the shop proudly holding a weighty book on ancient herbs and medicines.
The sky had transitioned into softer hues of orange and pink as they made their way towards the station, their day winding down.
Maomao was quietly satisfied, thinking through what she remembered from the pages of the new book she’d skimmed through at the gift shop—mentally planning what she’d study first.
But her thoughts paused when she heard Jinshi speak beside her.
“Should we get something to eat?”
Oh—right. They hadn’t eaten anything proper all day, only surviving off a few crackers Maomao had happened to pack that morning.
And now the sun was low, casting long shadows on the street.
“I don’t mind,” she replied casually—though her stomach growled the moment she spoke.
Jinshi turned to her with a grin, and she looked away, pretending it didn’t happen.
“Alright. There’s a good place around here.”
He picked up the pace, and Maomao trailed after him as they walked a few blocks.
Eventually, he turned a corner and stopped in front of a small, warmly lit shop tucked between two buildings.
A cozy smell of grilled meats and simmering broth wafted out through the curtain at the entrance.
“An izakaya…” Maomao mumbled to herself.
It was a small traditional pub, usually frequented by salarymen looking to drink and unwind after work.
This one had a homely charm—wooden walls, a narrow space lined with stools around the counter, and shelves of neatly stacked plates and tiny drink bottles behind the cook.
Jinshi sat down with casual ease, and Maomao took the seat beside him.
They both ordered simple bowls of ramen and some juice, the older man behind the counter began to prepare them with practiced hands, the sizzle and bubbling broth filling the air.
Maomao took in her surroundings with a sharp, quiet gaze.
The murmur of voices, the scent of grilled food and the occasional clink of glasses filled the small shack with a kind of warm, comforting energy.
Jinshi fit in like he belonged here. He exchanged familiar greetings with the older man behind the counter, clearly a regular.
From there, conversation flowed so easily, even with the rowdy businessmen already a bit too far gone on drinks. The smoky atmosphere didn’t seem to faze him—he laughed and bantered like he’d done it a hundred times before.
Maomao watched him out of the corner of her eye. He was sociable when he wanted to be, flashing a picture-perfect smile like it actually meant something.
It made sense that someone like him would be the student council president. Who else could talk circles around half-drunk strangers and still look like a prince?
“—And who’s the lassie you’ve brought with you today?” one of the older men suddenly called out.
Maomao was quickly snapped out of her thoughts. Jinshi glanced over his shoulder at her.
“Oh—er…”
“I’m just a member of the student council,” Maomao cut in, shutting anything down before it could open.
“Yes,” Jinshi added with a calm smile, “She keeps me out of trouble.”
Well… something like that.
The men burst into chuckles, throwing each other knowing looks.
“Yeah? Well cheers to the young miss!”
“That’s really not necessary—” Jinshi tried to quiet them down, but it only made them laugh harder, nudging and teasing him with exaggerated winks.
Maomao, meanwhile, had already tuned them out. She sipped her juice, completely detached from the ruckus.
Jinshi turned back to her with a small, sheepish cough. “Sorry about that.”
She didn’t look at him. “I didn’t expect you to take me to a place like this.”
“What were you expecting?”
If she was being honest, she’d assumed he had refined taste—fancy restaurants, reservations, maybe something painfully extravagant.
Definitely not a smoky ramen shop—not that she herself minded it.
But it seems there was still a lot to learn about him.
The shopkeeper slid a steaming bowl of ramen in front of Maomao with a gruff smile. “For the lady.”
She dipped her head politely. “Thank you.”
Jinshi received his bowl a moment later and thanked the man with ease.
They ate in companionable silence for a while, surrounded by the low hum of voices, the clatter of chopsticks, and the occasional burst of laughter from the far end of the counter.
“Does it taste good?” the old man asked, leaning on the counter with a rag slung over his shoulder.
Maomao looked up from her bowl and gave a small nod. “It’s very good.”
“Ah, that’s good to hear. Not often I see young ladies eatin’ here,” he chuckled, rubbing his chin. “I was startin’ to wonder if there was somethin’ in the food that only attracts these brutes.”
He jerked his thumb at the rowdy salarymen down the table.
“It tastes as good as always,” Jinshi added.
Maomao glanced over and noted that his bowl was nearly empty already.
“Of course you’d say that! Where’s the other brute you’re usually dragging around?” the man barked, folding his arms with a grunt.
Jinshi laughed a little awkwardly.
Maomao just assumed he meant Basen and didn’t comment, instead returning to her food.
The broth was really rich—simple, but satisfying. She seriously hated the fact that Jinshi had gone two-for-two today—to the exhibit down to the food.
She made a mental note that she’d have to come back here, eventually.
“Y’know,” the shopkeeper began, voice turning nostalgic, “Back in my day, I used to bring my gal to old shacks like this.”
“Oh no, he’s telling that story again,” one of the drunken men groaned, but his tone was light.
“Shaddap! I’m tellin’ it. Anyway—she was this sharp-tongued little thing. Pretty as a flower, but always lookin’ like she had something better to do.”
Maomao kept eating, unmoved.
“First time I took her out, she didn’t say a word to me for half the night. I thought I blew it. But the next week I asked, she showed up again. And the next.”
“So perhaps it went well after all?” Jinshi commented.
The man shook his head, “Turned out, she just liked the ramen more than my company!”
He laughed to himself, a low warm sound. “But who would’ve thought she’d end up my wife? And the reason I opened this place, too.”
Jinshi smiled, resting his chin on one hand. “Sounds like a good deal.”
The man shrugged. “Just goes to show, some people won’t say a thing—until you give ’em something they like.” He gave Maomao a pointed look, then walked away chuckling.
She wasn’t listening, just finishing the rest of her food.
The surrounding salarymen chimed in with grins and booming voices.
“You’re a smart lad for bringin’ her here. You don’t hear these words of wisdom every day.”
Jinshi shook his head modestly, glancing sideways at Maomao. “She probably has more brains than all of us put together.”
She shot him a partial glare, lifting her drink silently.
One of the men burst out laughing, raising his glass. “A brainy girl! Run while you still can, or she’ll be runnin’ your bank account!”
Maomao choked slightly on her juice, coughing as her eyes flicked down to the bag leaning against her stool—the one with the rather pricey book Jinshi had bought her earlier.
Before the teasing could get any worse, Jinshi smoothly decided to end it there. They’d finished eating anyway.
As Maomao reached for her purse, Jinshi was already pulling out his card.
But before either could hand anything over, the shopkeeper held up a hand and waved them off.
“Forget it. On the house tonight. You two reminded me of me and my old lass.”
What a deal, Maomao thought.
“—Just make sure to come back with the wedding invitations, got it?”
“Don’t forget about us!” the rest of the men chimed in with laughter and raised glasses.
Maomao’s expression twisted into something deeply displeased—but before anyone could catch it, Jinshi was already steering her out the door by the shoulder.
“—Anyway...”
“They’re a loud bunch,” Maomao muttered.
“Indeed. But the food makes it worth it.”
She couldn’t argue with that. She figured one day, she’d come back—if only to try and weasel the recipe out of the old man.
They walked on in an easy quiet until they reached the station. The sky was painted in a dark blue hue now.
The platform wasn’t too crowded—just a few lingering commuters and couples standing in soft conversation.
When the train arrived, they stepped on together and found a spot.
The ride back was just as quiet. Jinshi leaned his head slightly back, probably plagued with fatigue, while Maomao flipped through the pages of her new book, the train rocking gently beneath them.
It was a calm, simple ride—the perfect close to a rather eventful day.
As they walked beneath the faded stars, Maomao looked up, gazing at the sky. Something suddenly came back to mind.
“Oh,” she muttered aloud, then turned to him. “President, are you doing anything for the rest of summer?”
“That’s sudden,” Jinshi replied, arching a brow. “Are you asking me out?”
“Yes.”
He stumbled over his feet.
“—Along with the others,” Maomao added,
“R-right…” he coughed, clearing his throat and trying to recover. “It’s unlike you to make plans.”
“I’m going to visit my father in the countryside. I’m asking if you want to come.”
The way she phrased it was casual, but something in her tone had an edge of obligation. Like a certain elderly woman and older sister would be angry if Maomao went alone.
“It’s short notice,” Jinshi remarked.
“Exactly.”
“Still, it sounds fun.” He hummed.
She gave him a look—flat and skeptical. “Does it really?”
He nodded earnestly.
Maomao narrowed her eyes but didn’t argue.
Instead, she turned her attention forward again. If they went, they’d need bags. Carrying luggage on the train would be annoying. Could she get someone to drive them? Pairin and the others were working…
She let out a heavy sigh.
The more she thought about it, the more it sounded like a logistical nightmare. She could manage it alone, sure—but dragging others into it was different.
“You look stuck,” Jinshi commented.
“Well, do you know anyone who could drive us?” she asked without preamble.
He tilted his head. “Is that the main issue?”
“Everything else is fine.”
He paused in thought—but not for long. “I think I have someone.”
Maomao turned to him with suspicion. For all she knew he could hire a fancy chauffeur who’d drive them all the way there in a limo. Too flashy.
“Would this ‘someone’ agree on such short notice?” she pressed.
“I’ll make him,” Jinshi said, all too casually.
Make him?
That… didn’t sound reassuring at all. A bit scary even.
“Rely on me a little,” he added, smirking, “and check your phone more.”
In the end, if he was going to help, she wasn’t about to waste energy arguing.
“Fine,” she muttered, almost like a reluctant truce.
As they reached a quiet intersection beneath the dimming sky, Maomao slowed her steps.
“It was fun today. Thank you,” she said simply.
“Isn’t your house a little further? I can still walk you.” Jinshi slowed down with her.
“You don’t need to.” She was already taking some steps ahead.
There was a reason for her haste. She couldn’t risk Granny seeing Jinshi.
That was a disaster just waiting to happen.
With his face? She would take one look and have him roped into some strange scheme faster than Maomao could intervene.
The boy was too beautiful. He didn’t just rival her sisters’ looks—he matched them. And recently, she learned those three had the title of The Three Princesses.
Fitting, she thought dryly. Jinshi could well be the fourth.
He squinted at her suspiciously but didn’t press.
“Alright,” he said, hands slipping into his pockets. “Then at least message me when you get home safe.”
Maomao gave a brief nod.
“I’ll see you, Jinshi.”
His brows lifted slightly, but he smiled. “Have a good evening.”
She turned on her heel and started walking away, her steps firm and without hesitation. He probably did too. She didn’t check.
But a thought trailed by her as she walked.
Oh… why did I say that?
She meant to call him “President”, as she always did. But maybe because they weren’t at school it just slipped.
It felt strange on her tongue, hearing his name spoken out so plainly.
She kept walking, tucking the thought quietly away.
“I’m back...?”
Maomao had barely stepped through the doorway when she paused. Three heads popped out from the living room like nosy mice.
“Pairin, that’s ten for me,” Joka said.
“Ugh, I was so sure of it too,” Pairin groaned.
Meimei giggled behind her sleeve.
“What are you all talking about?” Maomao directed the question to Meimei, who always cracked easiest.
“They made a bet on whether or not you’d be coming home tonight,” she said sweetly.
“What? Why wouldn’t I be—”
A sharp knuckle came down on her head from behind.
“Ow…”
She turned around—Granny, looming over her as menacingly as an old woman could manage.
“You were out late with a boy, I heard.”
There it is…
Maomao sighed. “Yes. He paid for everything though.”
It was a calculated response. If she said what she probably wanted to hear, she wouldn’t question her further.
Her eyes did light up for a moment… but then narrowed into a frown.
“Oi. Don’t try to bribe me with shallow nonsense. You shouldn’t be out this late.”
Maomao shrugged. “Sorry.”
It wasn’t like she had a curfew. How was she supposed to know?
Granny folded her arms. “I didn’t expect this development so soon. Seems we’ll have to have a little talk.”
“…A talk?” Maomao blinked.
From the living room came quiet chuckles.
“Oh, dear. Who would’ve thought?” Pairin said, eyes glinting with mischief.
Joka and Meimei looked equally entertained.
Something clicked in Maomao’s brain.
“W-wait, that’s not necessary,” she said quickly, shaking her head.
“Really now?” Granny reached out, grabbing her sleeve. “I don’t want that freak showing up at my doorstep if you do something foolish. Come now.”
“No…! Seriously—!”
“It’ll do you good to learn some safety.”
Maomao’s eyes darted back to the living room, a silent plea. Her sisters just smiled and waved her off like traitors.
And just like that, she was dragged off to her fate.