Lemon Soda Candy - 52

Zhou Anran nodded. “Mm, there’s an elective class. Why?”

“Don't you want to thank me?” Chen Luobai’s fingers brushed the candy in his pocket. “Can I accompany you to class tomorrow night?”

He wanted to accompany her to class?

Zhou Anran’s heart gave a little jump.

But…

She looked up at him, puzzled. “How is that a thank-you?”

Chen Luobai’s hand twitched in his pocket, unable to resist. He reached out, lightly pinching her cheek. “What, does just any guy get the privilege of accompanying you to class?”

Zhou Anran pressed a hand to her cheek, shaking her head. “Of course not.”

Chen Luobai: “So why doesn’t this count as a thank-you?”

It took her a beat to catch his meaning. Her heart, which had been fluttering lightly, now thumped wildly.

“So—” Chen Luobai began, then paused.

Zhou Anran: “So?”

“So—” He lowered his gaze to meet hers, his dark eyes still deep and unreadable. “Do I qualify to go to class with you?”

Zhou Anran’s heartbeat was a chaotic mess.

But his words were practically a confession, so maybe she didn’t need to hide her feelings anymore.

She gave him a small, barely perceptible nod.

No one was more qualified than him.

The corner of Chen Luobai’s lips curved. “Come on, I’ll walk you back.”

Zhou Anran’s heart was still racing. She followed him for a few steps before remembering: “Don’t you still have assignments to catch up on? I can go back on my own.”

Chen Luobai glanced at her. “It’s not a big deal.”

Zhou Anran’s lips curled, her dimples faintly visible.

He walked her all the way to her dorm building, watching until her figure disappeared inside. Only then did he turn toward his own dorm.

A few steps in, his phone buzzed twice.

Chen Luobai pulled it out and glanced at it. The message was from He Mingyu.

He Mingyu: [Dropped her off at her dorm? Got time?]  

He Mingyu: [Wanna talk if you’re free?]

Chen Luobai stopped: [Meet me at the first cafeteria.]

Before heading in, Chen Luobai grabbed two cans of beer. He found a random seat, popped the tab, and took a sip. Moments later, He Mingyu appeared at the entrance.

He Mingyu sat across from him.

Chen Luobai slid the other beer over.

“What’s up?”

He Mingyu grabbed the can, popped it open, and took a big gulp, staying silent.

Chen Luobai didn’t press him. He toyed with the pull-tab on his can, opened his phone, and refreshed his social feed. Not seeing anything from Zhou Anran, he closed it.

He Mingyu downed half the can, swallowing the bitter liquid before finally speaking. “That basketball game in our first year—she was the one who helped you, not Yan Xingxi.”

Chen Luobai looked up, surprised. “I know.”

“You know?” He Mingyu was equally surprised. “She told you?”

Chen Luobai shook his head. “Yan Xingxi let it slip.”

“Alright.” He Mingyu’s mouth still tasted bitter. “Then you probably already knew how she felt.”

Chen Luobai nodded, weighing his words. “You’re telling me this because you’re giving up on pursuing her?”

“From high school till now, she’s only ever had eyes for you. If I kept chasing her, it’d just make things hard for her.” He Mingyu gave a wry smile. “I’d probably lose her as a friend too.”

Chen Luobai fiddled with the pull-tab. “Thanks. But honestly, I’d prefer it if you two weren’t even friends.”

He Mingyu: “That might disappoint you.”

He finished the rest of his beer in one go, setting the empty can lightly on the table. “Treat her well.”

Chen Luobai tapped his can against the empty one. “That’s one thing I won’t disappoint you on.”

---

Back in her dorm, Zhou Anran sat down to read but realized she’d forgotten to ask why he was waiting downstairs earlier. She picked up her phone, then hesitated, figuring he was probably back at his dorm, catching up on homework. She didn’t want to bother him.

The next day was packed with classes. She didn’t read for long, washed up early, and went to bed.

As she closed her eyes, she thought of him saying he’d accompany her to class tomorrow. A small smile curved her lips.

She slept dreamlessly.

The next evening, only Zhou Anran and Yu Xinyue from their dorm had the same elective. They slipped into the classroom through the back door, Zhou Anran paused. “Xinyue, I think I’ll sit in the back today.”

“Why the back?” Yu Xinyue asked, confused.

Zhou Anran touched her ear. “Chen Luobai said he’s coming for me.”

Yu Xinyue nodded knowingly. “Got it. I’ll sit up front. You can borrow my notes later.”

Zhou Anran: “…?”

Why did it feel like Yu Xinyue was picking up bad habits from their other two dormmates?

The class was in a large lecture hall. Chen Luobai had said he’d be busy for the first half and would join her for the second. Zhou Anran didn’t bother saving a prime seat, choosing a spot in the back right, near the door.

After the first half ended, the break was nearly over, and he still hadn’t shown.

She pulled out her phone, debating whether to message him, when a familiar, fresh scent washed over her.

She turned her head and saw a tall figure settle beside her.

Chen Luobai was in a black jacket today, a hint of fatigue in his features. He propped an arm on the desk, rested his head on it, and gazed at her silently.

Zhou Anran’s cheeks warmed under his stare. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

He gave a soft laugh but didn’t answer, only murmuring, “I’m a bit tired. I’ll nap for a bit. Keep an eye on the professor for me.”

Zhou Anran noticed the weariness in his eyes. “Did you stay up late doing assignments again? Why don’t you go back and rest?”

His voice stayed soft. “I said I’d accompany you to class.”

Yu Xinyue’s words proved prophetic.

Zhou Anran couldn’t focus on a single thing during the second half.

Their spot was out of the way, inconspicuous, but being so far back, there was barely anyone in front of them. If the old professor on the podium glanced their way, he’d likely notice.

Perhaps because someone was napping so blatantly, halfway through, the professor’s gaze started drifting toward them.

The first time, Zhou Anran couldn’t bring herself to wake him.

The second time, she still couldn’t.

By the third glance, she bit her lip, steeled herself, and nudged his arm under the desk.

He didn’t stir.

She tried again, careful not to make a scene. Her hand, not quite aimed right, slipped from his arm to his leg.

Her face flushed instantly, and she tried to pull back, but a large hand suddenly pressed hers down.

His palm was scorching against the back of her hand.

Beneath her palm was the rough denim of his jeans.

Zhou Anran’s heart thudded heavily.

She didn’t notice the professor’s fourth glance until his voice rang out.

“You in the back, in the black jacket, stand up for a moment.” the professor said slowly. “The girl next to him, wake him up.”

Zhou Anran: “…”

She snapped back to her sense, realizing her right hand was still pinned to his jeans.

He was still slumped on the desk, seemingly asleep, his earlier grip an unconscious reflex.

With her right hand trapped, she used her left to give him a firmer push.

Chen Luobai finally stirred, lifting his head.

“The professor’s calling you,” Zhou Anran whispered.

The professor stood with hands behind his back. “Yes, young man, care to answer the question I just asked?”

Zhou Anran hadn’t heard a thing, too distracted to help.

But Chen Luobai’s composure was leaps better than hers. He stood unhurriedly, still holding her hand under the desk as if he’d forgotten to let go. His voice carried a trace of sleepiness, yet his tone was relaxed. “Sorry, Professor, I’m not in this elective. I’m just here to keep someone company, so I can’t answer.”

His candid attitude, paired with the professor’s lenient nature, diffused any tension. 

The boy’s striking looks were hard to forget, and confirming he wasn’t a student in the class, the professor teased with a smile, “Here to keep someone company and you’re sleeping?”

Zhou Anran’s face heated up.

Then she heard him reply, slow and deliberate, “Won’t happen next time.”

His words carried a subtle ambiguity.

It sounded like he meant he wouldn’t sleep in class again, but it felt more like he was promising not to sleep while keeping her company.

He already drew attention, and the classroom erupted in playful cheers.

Zhou Anran’s cheeks blazed.

“Alright, sit down,” the professor said, waving a hand. “And the rest of you, quiet down. If you’re jealous, go find someone to keep company yourself.”

Zhou Anran: “…”

The room settled, but he still hadn’t let go of her hand.

Her heart pounded, unsure whether it was to avoid disturbing the class or some selfish impulse, but she didn’t remind him.

The professor resumed teaching.

The students, after their brief amusement, refocused on the lesson.

Only the two in the back right corner remained restless.

A boy’s hidden feelings were tucked beneath the desk, in the unseen clasp of their hands.

At first, it was a loose hold. Then, he slowly parted her fingers, threading his through, intertwining them together.

Mid-November in Beicheng was already chilly, with heating not starting until tomorrow. The closed classroom still let in a faint draft, but their clasped hands grew damp with sweat. It was impossible to tell whose it was, only that their palms burned hotter by the moment.

Her heartbeat wouldn’t settle, each thump heavier than the last.

For the rest of the class, Zhou Anran didn’t hear a single word.

When the bell rang abruptly, she jolted, her fingers twitching instinctively, but he held on tighter. 

Her heart, which had just calmed, raced again. She finally whispered, “Class is over.”

Chen Luobai hummed, his gaze shifting from the blackboard to her face. “Let them leave first. I have something to say to you.”

Zhou Anran blinked. “…”

What did he want to say now?

The last time he said he had something to tell her, he played and sang “Twinkle Twinkle Little Star” for her in an empty Live House.

He wasn't about to play guitar for her in the classroom, would he? 

There were no instruments here, and it didn’t seem like the place.

As students filed out, Yu Xinyue passed by their spot near the back door: “Ranran, you’re not leaving yet?”

Zhou Anran’s heart was racing. If Yu Xinyue’s gaze shifted just slightly, she’d see her hand still held in his.

“Not yet. You go ahead.”

Luckily, Yu Xinyue hadn’t been fully corrupted by their roommates. She didn’t tease, just nodded, hugged her books, and left through the back door.

A few minutes later, the classroom was quiet.

But he still hadn’t spoken.

Unable to wait, Zhou Anran asked softly, “What did you want to say?”

Chen Luobai’s other hand, tucked in his jacket pocket, was sweaty too. His jaw tightened briefly before he slowly released her hand.

Zhou Anran’s fingertips trembled as she reluctantly drew her hand back.

Watching her small movement, Chen Luobai suddenly smiled. The tension that had spiked after letting go eased in an instant. Without hesitating further, he took two candies from his pocket and placed them in the desk slot in front of her.

Zhou Anran froze when she saw them.

“Recognize these candies?”

Zhou Anran’s heart pounded, but she didn’t answer.

Then she heard the boy beside her say slowly, “I only know about this candy because back in high school, someone slipped two pieces into my desk. Others stuffed love letters in there, but she just left two candies. I thought someone tossed them in by mistake, but—”

He paused.

Zhou Anran’s heart thudded heavily. She couldn’t help but look up, her gaze meeting his smiling, focused eyes, like he was hinting at something.

“They were pretty sweet.”

Zhou Anran’s fingers curled. “How did you even know about this?”

She hadn’t told anyone, not even Yan Xingxi.

She thought those two candies would forever be her secret alone.

Chen Luobai: “That morning when I went to see Yan Xingxi, I saw one fall out of her pocket. She was a bit of a mess, crying, and said you bought them for her.”

Zhou Anran: “…”

So it was Yan Xingxi who gave it away.

But maybe it didn’t matter anymore.

Back then, she’d been terrified he’d find out, afraid she’d become just another girl he’d distance himself from, losing even the right to secretly like him.

But now, it seemed she’d already earned his open, unabashed affection.

She had a faint guess about what he wanted to say tonight.

“Zhou Anran,” Chen Luobai called softly.

“Mm,” she replied, just as soft.

“The candies, the basketball game, the medicine that night—I know about those.” He looked at her. “Is there anything else I missed that you feel regret about?”

Her nose stung suddenly. She shook her head firmly. “No.”

How could she have any regrets?

Chen Luobai placed the candies he’d held onto for so long in front of her. His hand felt empty, fingers tightening slightly. “Then you can probably guess what I’m about to say. I prepared a lot of words, but I still think I need to say these four words clearly and formally.”

“Zhou Anran,” he called her name again, low and soft.

Zhou Anran looked up.

The boy’s dark eyes met hers, more serious than ever before, his jawline taut, betraying a hint of nerves.

In that paused second, time seemed to stretch endlessly.

Zhou Anran’s heart had never raced this fast.

Then she heard Chen Luobai say, word by word—

“I like you.”

---

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