ACMS 68

Extra: If They Had Met in College 2

When Pei Wenjing saw Judy looking utterly devastated, he couldn’t bear it and said, “Hechuan doesn’t like milk tea. No way they’ll end up together—”

Before he could finish, Shen Hechuan poked in the straw and took a sip of the milk tea. He even nodded at Qiao Le—seemingly to say it was good.

Pei Wenjing: “…”

Judy: “…”

Watching Qiao Le and Shen Hechuan chatting so closely, Pei Wenjing gave a small cough, unable to suppress the upward curve of his lips, and pretended to comfort her: “Don’t be sad. There’s plenty of fish in the sea. I’ll buy you a milk tea.”

“Buy your own damn tea!” Judy shot him a glare and turned on her heel. “We’re through! Goodbye!”

“Wait—” Pei Wenjing ran after her, half-laughing. “It’s not like I stole your man. Why are you mad at me?”

“Because you’re the worst!”

“How am I suddenly the worst?! Can’t we at least be reasonable?!”

The two of them bickered their way down the street, their voices drowned out by the crowd.

Qiao Le and Shen Hechuan, unaware of any of this, continued on. Qiao Le asked where they were eating, and Shen Hechuan said, “Hang on, I need to pick something up first.”

He led Qiao Le across the street. Qiao Le followed, puzzled, until they arrived at a flower shop.

Shen Hechuan exchanged a few words with the clerk and gave his phone number. Soon, the clerk brought out a bouquet.

It was an oil-painting-style bouquet in yellow and green tones—bright, passionate, and romantic.

Shen Hechuan took it and handed it to Qiao Le.

The moment they stepped into the flower shop, Qiao Le had a guess. But seeing the bouquet offered to him still brought a touch of surprise and delight. “This is for me?”

“Yeah,” Shen Hechuan said. “To celebrate your acceptance.”

“Thank you~” Qiao Le happily accepted the bouquet, lifting it to admire it from every angle. “The last time I got flowers was at my high school graduation.”

Which, of course, was just recently.

Shen Hechuan asked, “Who gave them to you?”

“Classmates.”

“Male or female?”

Still admiring the bouquet, Qiao Le answered casually, “Both.”

He said it without thinking, but Shen Hechuan took note. Imagining the scene, a faint shadow passed through his gaze—then vanished. He said, “You’re quite popular.”

Qiao Le paused as he stroked the petals. He picked up on the faint trace of jealousy but wasn’t quite sure, so he looked up. “Didn’t you get flowers at your high school graduation?”

Shen Hechuan: “No.”

If Pei Wenjing had heard that, he definitely would’ve exposed him on the spot.

Qiao Le figured it must be because Shen Hechuan gave off such an intimidating aura that no one dared to give him any. That just meant someone thick-skinned like him had to take the lead.

Bravely, Qiao Le promised, “Then when you graduate next year, I’ll give you flowers.”

“Alright.” Shen Hechuan’s lips curved slightly. “Let’s go eat.”

“Sure!”

Shen Hechuan had booked a Korean BBQ place. Not long after they sat down, someone brought over a small cake.

It was a delicate four-inch cake, topped with a pair of fondant badminton rackets.

Earl Grey flavor—Qiao Le’s favorite.

Seeing the cake, Qiao Le suddenly realized why Shen Hechuan had been casually asking about his preferences the other day.

So it was all for this?

Flowers and cake—this really was like a date.

He chuckled to himself and leaned closer. “President.”

It was the first time Shen Hechuan heard him call him that. His brows lifted slightly. “What?”

Qiao Le cupped his hands around his mouth and lowered his voice. “Tell me, does this count as pulling strings?”

“Pulling strings?” Shen Hechuan raised a brow. “I bought the cake. I ordered the flowers. I paid for dinner. What part of this was you pulling strings?”

“…”

Qiao Le thought it over. “True… kind of feels like you’re the one pulling strings.”

Shen Hechuan: “…” That didn’t sound like a compliment.

As they chatted, Shen Hechuan’s phone lit up beside him with a few WeChat notifications.

He opened them.

[Pei Wenjing: (Photo)]
[Pei Wenjing: How’s the milk tea?]
[Pei Wenjing: Sweet? What flavor? Can I try it too?]

Attached was a picture he’d taken of Shen Hechuan and Qiao Le at the west gate.

Shen Hechuan ignored it, turned off the screen, and said to Qiao Le, “Let’s order.”

“Sure.”

Though they hadn’t known each other long, they’d eaten together a few times and had a pretty good sense of each other’s tastes. After placing the order, Qiao Le kept glancing at the cake.

Shen Hechuan noticed and smiled. “Want to try the cake first?”

“Yes!” Qiao Le perked up. “I’ll open it.”

He carefully unwrapped the cake, and Shen Hechuan handed him the knife and forks.

Qiao Le split the two little fondant rackets—one for each of them.

The Earl Grey was rich but not bitter, with a deep and fragrant taste, and the chilled texture was delightful.

It was pure happiness. Qiao Le’s eyes squinted with joy as he polished off his piece in just a few bites.

“It’s so good!” he exclaimed to Shen Hechuan.

There was no store name or logo on the box—he guessed it must be homemade.

“My family’s pastry chef made it,” Shen Hechuan said. “If you like it, I’ll bring you more next time.”

“Sounds great!” Qiao Le didn’t hold back. “You have a pastry chef? That’s amazing! Do you have a personal chef too?”

“Yes,” Shen Hechuan nodded. “One specializes in Hunan cuisine, the other in Cantonese. If you’ve got time, come over and try their cooking.”

“Really?” Qiao Le was tempted but a bit hesitant.

Going to Shen Hechuan’s place would mean their relationship was taking a step forward—but dropping by suddenly might be rude. He didn’t want to impose on Shen Hechuan’s family.

He voiced his concerns, and Shen Hechuan replied, “I live alone. No need to worry.”

“That’s perfect,” Qiao Le said, relieved. “So… when are you inviting me?”

Seeing the “please invite me already” written all over his face, Shen Hechuan chuckled and said, “How about this Saturday?”

Saturday—just two days away.

Qiao Le agreed cheerfully. “Sure!”

Shen Hechuan: “Want me to pick you up in the morning?”

“In the morning? Are we having lunch?” Qiao Le thought about it—if they had lunch together, maybe they could catch a movie afterward.

“We’ll have lunch first, then dinner too if you’d like. I’ve got a game console and a home theater setup. It’ll keep us entertained.”

In other words: spend the whole day together.

Qiao Le lit up. “Then it’s settled!”

That meal left him feeling completely satisfied. The BBQ was flavorful and tender, the cake soft and sweet, the flowers fragrant and romantic.

Most importantly, the person he was eating with was tall, handsome, and charming.

Watching Shen Hechuan scan the bill, Qiao Le couldn’t help but laugh.

After paying, Shen Hechuan noticed his grin and couldn’t help being infected by it. Smiling, he asked, “What are you laughing at?”

Qiao Le replied bluntly, “I just feel happy when I’m with you.”

Shen Hechuan’s lips curved up. “Me too.”

They left the restaurant together. Just as they stepped outside, Qiao Le got a call from home.

His mom asked if he was on his way back, and told him to grab soy sauce and vinegar from the supermarket near the entrance—she needed them for dumplings in the morning.

Qiao Le agreed, hung up, and said to Shen Hechuan, “I should head home now. What about you?”

“I’ll take you back,” Shen Hechuan said.

“Okay.” Qiao Le wanted to spend more time with him anyway, so he gladly accepted.

They flagged a cab by the roadside. After getting in, Qiao Le gave the driver the name of his neighborhood.

The driver, a local man in his forties from Yunjing, glanced at them in the rearview mirror and asked if they were Yunjing University students.
Qiao Le said yes, and the driver praised them a bit, then stepped on the gas: “Don’t worry, I’ll take a shortcut—won’t overcharge you students.”

Both of them were secretly hoping to spend more time together, so Shen Hechuan said, “No need to take shortcuts, just go the normal route.”

The middle-aged driver chuckled, “Don’t worry, I won’t do anything shady! This cab has a live dashcam connected to the company. You kids are the flowers of the nation—it’s our duty to protect you!”

Qiao Le: “…”

Shen Hechuan: “…”

Under the enthusiastic uncle’s “protection,” a forty-minute ride took just thirty minutes.

The driver dropped them at the neighborhood entrance, laughing heartily. “See? Didn’t overcharge you, right? Just round it off!”

Shen Hechuan: “…”

Qiao Le: “…”

After paying and getting out, the driver rolled down the window and said, “Call me next time you need a cab! I’ll give you a discount!”

Qiao Le cheerfully replied, “Sure!” while Shen Hechuan silently thought, Next time, I’m driving.

After sending the driver off, Qiao Le said he needed to go to the nearby supermarket for soy sauce. Shen Hechuan said, “I’ll go with you.”

“Aren’t you in a hurry to get back?” Qiao Le asked, then remembered he lived alone and corrected himself, “Okay, let’s see if there’s anything else we need.”

They went to the supermarket. Qiao Le grabbed a cart, but Shen Hechuan took it over. “I’ll push.”

Qiao Le picked up soy sauce and vinegar first, then grabbed some snacks, and even a few boxes of instant noodles on discount. By the time they circled the store, the cart was nearly full—soy sauce and vinegar buried at the bottom.

“Do you need anything?” he asked Shen Hechuan.

“No.” Shen Hechuan lived somewhere with a supermarket that delivered.

As they headed to the checkout, they ran into Fang Jiaxu.

Fang Jiaxu was Qiao Le’s childhood friend. They lived in the same building and had grown up together.

“Lele!”

Fang Jiaxu grinned and tousled Qiao Le’s hair, then peeked into the cart. “What are you buying?”

The gesture was familiar and casual. Qiao Le didn’t mind. “Soy sauce and vinegar.”

“This is what you call a bottle of soy sauce?” Fang Jiaxu pointed at the overflowing cart, clearly unconvinced.

“Just grabbed a few snacks since I was here,” Qiao Le said. “What about you?”

“Just something to eat.” Fang Jiaxu said, “My parents went back to our hometown, and I’m too lazy to cook.”

Qiao Le said, “Come eat at my place.”

“I’ll pass.” Fang Jiaxu waved his hand, looking resigned. “I’m afraid Xiao Man will make me do his crafts again.”

Xiao Man was Qiao Le’s younger brother, five years old and in his final year of kindergarten. The school often assigned craft projects, and Qiao Le and Fang Jiaxu were his go-to helpers.

Shen Hechuan stood quietly to the side while they chatted, not interrupting.

After a few exchanges, Qiao Le introduced them to each other.

“Senior, this is my childhood friend, Fang Jiaxu.”
“This is my senior, Shen Hechuan. He gave me a ride home.”

Fang Jiaxu had assumed Shen Hechuan was just another customer. He didn’t expect him to be Qiao Le’s senior.

And to him, Qiao Le’s senior was his senior too—so he greeted Shen Hechuan warmly: “Do you live around here too, Senior? Which neighborhood?”

“I don’t live here.” Shen Hechuan paused. “I live in Liwan New District.”

Fang Jiaxu: “…” That’s really far.

After checking out, Qiao Le and Shen Hechuan waited by the entrance for Fang Jiaxu.

The night wind picked up, messing up Qiao Le’s hair even more after Fang Jiaxu had already tousled it. Shen Hechuan reached out to smooth it down.

Qiao Le looked at him. Shen Hechuan said calmly, “Your hair was messy.”

“Oh.” Qiao Le stayed still, obediently letting him fix it.

His hair was soft, not stiff like most boys’. The strands slid through Shen Hechuan’s fingers, tickling slightly.

This scene was caught by Fang Jiaxu, who asked afterward, full of curiosity, “Who exactly is he?”

“My senior,” Qiao Le said. “Didn’t I just tell you?”

“I don’t believe it,” Fang Jiaxu said skeptically. “You two didn’t look like just senior and junior.”

Qiao Le feigned innocence. “What do we look like?”

“He fixed your hair and looked at you with such a gentle gaze I got goosebumps. And he drove you home.”

“He’s my senior. What’s weird about giving me a ride?”

“Giving you a ride isn’t weird. Giving you a ride all the way from Liwan New District is what’s over the top!” Fang Jiaxu held up his hand to show just how far it was. “That far!”

“He’s just nice.” Qiao Le handed Shen Hechuan a metaphorical Nice Guy card.

“Pfft.” Fang Jiaxu pointed to the bouquet in his arms. “He gave you that too, didn’t he?”

“Yup!” Qiao Le admitted freely.

Fang Jiaxu was shocked. “You two aren’t dating, are you?!”

“No!”

“Phew.” Fang Jiaxu sighed in relief. “I thought you’d get into a relationship before me. Scared the hell out of me—”

“I’m just pursuing him,” Qiao Le said.

Fang Jiaxu: “……”

After a pause, he asked, “So your way of chasing someone is to have him give you a ride and flowers?”

“He volunteered,” Qiao Le replied confidently. “What’s the difference? As long as one’s willing to give and the other to receive.”

Fang Jiaxu: “…That sounds like a fuckboy line—but it kinda makes sense.”

Grinning, Qiao Le said, “He even invited me to his place for dinner this Saturday.”

“Dinner at his place?!” Fang Jiaxu was dumbfounded. “Are you meeting the parents already?! Didn’t you just meet?!”

“No, no,” Qiao Le explained. “He lives alone. Just the two of us.”

“That’s even worse!” Fang Jiaxu panicked. “Two guys! Alone! Hormones raging! Sparks flying! Sheets flipping!”

Qiao Le was stunned by his vocabulary. He visualized the scene and immediately turned beet red—too spicy!

Some residents walking by turned to look, drawn by Fang Jiaxu’s shouting.

Qiao Le coughed to cover it up and said, “Keep your voice down, would you? Not exactly a badge of honor. I’m not that kind of person.”

Fang Jiaxu: “…Maybe not, but with that grin on your face, it’s hard to believe you.”

Qiao Le: “…” Damn mouth, stop smiling already!

But his mouth seemed to have a mind of its own—it stayed curved all the way home.

—

Meanwhile, the subject of all this talk—Shen Hechuan—had no idea what kind of 18+ conversation had gone on.

After getting in the car, he sent a message to the family group chat: he’d be hosting a guest this weekend, and asked Chef Zhang and Pastry Chef Mo to go to the Linjiang Complex.

The Linjiang Complex was his personal residence, close to campus for convenience.

As soon as he sent the message, replies started flooding in.

[Mom (Wisdomelegance): What kind of guest?]
[Dad (Gentlebreeze): A guest? Or guests?]
[Grandpa (VirtueandWeight): Boyfriend or girlfriend?]
[Shen: Just a friend.]

Wu Huilan called right after. “What do you mean ‘just a friend’?”

“Exactly what it sounds like,” Shen Hechuan said.

He had never hosted anyone at the Linjiang Complex before—let alone asked for chefs to be sent over. His sudden seriousness made Wu Huilan suspect that this “friend” was someone very important to him.

“Why not invite them to our place?” she asked. “They can eat whatever they want, and we have more space.”

“Next time,” Shen Hechuan said. He remembered how hesitant Qiao Le looked earlier—he didn’t want to put pressure on him.

Wu Huilan asked curiously, “Where’s he from? A lot younger?”

“A fellow student,” Shen Hechuan replied. “Four years younger.”

“Three is manageable,” she said. “Not too much of a generation gap. Is it a boy or a girl?”

“A boy.”

Same-sex marriage was already legalized, and Wu Huilan wasn’t the conservative type—she didn’t mind if her son liked boys or girls.

What she did mind was that he wouldn’t bring the kid home. She’d have liked to host him properly.

“Alright then,” she said. “Bring him home once you win him over.”

Shen Hechuan smiled silently. “Okay.”

Judging by how things were going with Qiao Le lately, that day probably wasn’t far off.

After she hung up, she turned around and nearly jumped—her husband Shen Zhenghe and the old man had been eavesdropping behind her.

“Well?” Grandpa Shen asked. “Is he coming over?”

Wu Huilan shook her head. “No.”

Both men looked disappointed. Grandpa Shen suggested, “Why don’t we drop by on Saturday?”

“That’s… probably not a good idea,” Wu Huilan hesitated.

“I agree,” said Shen Zhenghe. “We’d be intruding on the kids’ alone time.”

“Exactly,” Grandpa Shen sighed. “We’ll wait till he brings the kid home. I won’t go. You two better not either—it might leave a bad impression.”

The couple nodded solemnly. “Don’t worry. If you’re not going, we’re not going.”

—

On Saturday, Shen Hechuan came early to pick Qiao Le up.

As Qiao Le came out of the neighborhood, Shen Hechuan looked him over and asked, “Did you get a haircut?”

Qiao Le ran a hand through his hair. “Is it that obvious?”

He’d gotten it cut yesterday afternoon. The stylist did a great job—the layers framed his features beautifully, even without styling.

“It looks great,” Shen Hechuan said, opening the car door. “Hop in.”

Today he was driving a black Mercedes G-Wagon. Qiao Le had always liked this model—he couldn’t help stealing glances at them on the road.

After getting in the passenger seat, he exclaimed, “So cool!”

As he buckled in, Shen Hechuan asked casually, “The car or me?”

“The car,” Qiao Le paused, then grinned when Shen Hechuan looked at him. “But you’re cooler.”

Shen Hechuan asked, “Got a license?”

“Sure do!” Qiao Le had gotten it over summer. He answered before realizing, “Wait, you mean—?”

Shen Hechuan tapped the wheel. “Want to try?”

“You sure?” Qiao Le asked. “I’ve never driven on actual roads.”

Shen Hechuan unbuckled. “Don’t worry. I’ll be right here.”

Since he said so, Qiao Le didn’t hesitate. “Alright! At your service.”

They switched seats. Qiao Le ran his hands lovingly over the wheel, then started the engine.

His first time driving on the road, in a luxury car, no less—he was extra careful. Not knowing the way added time, and they arrived twenty minutes later than usual.

As they pulled into the garage, Qiao Le turned off the engine and asked, “Weren’t scared, were you?”

“You drove great,” Shen Hechuan said, smiling.

Pleased, Qiao Le said, “Don’t move,” then hopped out, walked around, opened Shen Hechuan’s door, and made a mock bow. “Prince, your chariot awaits.”

Shen Hechuan: “…”

He stared at Qiao Le’s mischievous eyes—and didn’t move.

Adorable, he thought.

Qiao Le waved a hand in front of him. “What are you spacing out for? Come on.”

Snapping out of it, Shen Hechuan stepped out at his invitation.

The Linjiang Complex had one apartment per floor. They took the elevator to the 28th floor.

Chef Zhang and Pastry Chef Mo were already in the kitchen. When they saw the two return, Mo brought out freshly baked soufflés. “Matcha and mango—try them, see what you like.”

Even before he got close, the scent made Qiao Le’s eyes light up. “Smells amazing!”

Mo placed the tray down, then brought over two drinks: one fresh-brewed coffee, and one cocoa milk tea.

“Need help, Miss?” Qiao Le asked her.

Mo, in her mid-forties, burst out laughing. “No, no. These are my specialties. You two just relax and enjoy.”

Chef Zhang poked his head out. “You can eat Mo’s sweets first. Then try my dishes at lunch!”

“Thanks, Uncle Zhang!” Qiao Le called back.

Mo returned to the kitchen, and Zhang shut the door to keep the cooking noises down.

In the living room, Shen Hechuan pulled Qiao Le to sit. “Have a little to tide you over.”

Qiao Le took a bite of the matcha soufflé—light and airy, it melted in his mouth. The cream was rich but not cloying, and the matcha fragrant and refreshing.

“So good!” he said, eyes wide in surprise. “Way better than anything I’ve had!”

Wanting to share the goodness, he scooped a bite for Shen Hechuan. “Try it—seriously, it’s amazing!”

Shen Hechuan looked at the spoon near his lips, then gave Qiao Le a glance filled with unreadable meaning. But Qiao Le didn’t notice, just urged him, “Aren’t you gonna eat?”

Shen Hechuan leaned down and accepted the bite, the cold spoon brushing his tongue.

The soft sweetness spread through his mouth—just like the mood between them today.

After feeding him, Qiao Le took another bite himself—only then realizing he’d just used the same spoon.

Buzz. His brain short-circuited, and the tips of his ears turned red.

The spoon in his mouth… had just been in Shen Hechuan’s.

Wasn’t this basically an indirect kiss?!

Things were moving way too fast!

Mind racing, Qiao Le didn’t know whether to pull the spoon out or just swallow it with the dessert.

“What’s wrong?”

Noticing something, Shen Hechuan leaned in and asked knowingly, “Why are your ears red?”

Qiao Le: “…”

It’s not red, it’s… yellow. From shame.

But how could he say that out loud?

Thank goodness, just then, Shen Hechuan’s phone rang from the bar counter. He got up to answer it, and Qiao Le immediately pulled the spoon from his mouth.

After a few words on the call, Shen Hechuan returned and said, “I need to take something in the study. You go ahead and eat.”

“Go, go,” Qiao Le said quickly.

As soon as he left, Qiao Le fanned his face to dispel all the inappropriate thoughts—and his ears cooled down.

He picked up the other soufflé to try the second flavor, but before he could take a bite—the doorbell rang.

It was connected to a camera feed. On the screen, he saw an elderly man with white hair standing at the door.

Shen Hechuan was still in the study, so Qiao Le put down the dessert and went to open the door.

Just as Grandpa Shen finished fixing his collar, he looked up—only to find himself face to face with the person opening the door: Qiao Le.
“Hello, sir.” Qiao Le greeted politely. “You are—?”

The moment Old Mr. Shen saw Qiao Le, he broke into a delighted smile. “I’m Hechuan’s grandfather! You must be that little friend he mentioned!”

Little friend?

Qiao Le blinked, unsure what he meant. “Hello, Grandpa Shen. Please come in.”

“Alright, alright!”

Just as Old Mr. Shen was about to enter with him, the elevator beside them dinged open.

They both turned to look—out stepped Wu Huilan and Shen Zhenghe.

Wu Huilan and Shen Zhenghe paused in their tracks and looked at Old Mr. Shen.

Everyone exchanged glances. The air grew a little awkward.

The ones who’d sworn up and down just days ago that they wouldn’t come—were all here.

Not a single one missing.