None of the three people present had expected that Xia Yiyang would use the note to pray for finding a suitable travel companion.
Nor had they anticipated that the broken pendulum would so coincidentally land right in Sheng Lin’s palm.
The young master tried to cover it up, wanting to hide the note in his hand, but Qin Zaozao sitting across from him was too quick—he reached out and snatched the sticky note away.
“Tsk tsk tsk!” Qin Zaozao waved the note in his hand and made exaggerated faces at Sheng Lin. “Who said my pendulum’s quality is bad? I think it’s great quality. See? It not only answered Xiao Xia’s question, but also directly pointed out the answer for him—Sheng Lin, you must not defy the guidance of the higher-dimensional soul!”
Then this Master Qin started muttering about “id” and “higher self” and “third chakra” and “Venus in the twelfth house” and other such things, not caring whether anyone else could understand.
Xia Yiyang tried several times to interrupt him, but couldn’t even find a gap to jump in.
He thought: If Brother Qin weren’t a fortune-teller, he’d make an excellent crosstalk comedian—with that ability to rattle off such a long string of words in one breath, he’d probably master the tongue-twister routines with ease.
He instinctively turned to Sheng Lin for help—but the moment their eyes met, that dizzying, heatstroke-like sensation washed over him again.
It was so strange—what was wrong with him lately? His heart kept racing and his vision would blur for no reason, especially when he was around Sheng Lin, when the symptoms came on even faster and more intensely.
Just then, Sheng Lin, who had been silent for a long while, finally spoke.
“Qin Zaozao, instead of spreading feudal superstition here, why don’t you go find the Taobao seller and ask if that scam prop of yours is still under warranty?”
“How is this feudal superstition?!” Qin Zaozao protested. “This is quantum entanglement!”
“Looks more like quantum deception to me.”
The man reached over and snatched the sticky note back from Qin Zaozao’s hand. He glanced down at the words on the paper, his expression unchanged—but after reading it, he folded the note up and casually tucked it into his pocket.
“…!” Xia Yiyang stared at the note in a panic, thinking: I wrote that—how come the boss just pocketed it?
He might as well have thrown it away.
“The evening rush is about to start—the shop’s going to get busy.” Sheng Lin glanced at the clock on the wall. “Qin Zaozao, if you don’t want to leave, you can stay and help us work.”
Qin Zaozao actually seemed tempted: “How much are you paying?”
Sheng Lin: “How much do you want?”
Qin Zaozao: “Not much—just about the same as Xiao Xia.”
Sheng Lin shot back: “Are you more capable than him, or smarter than him?”
“Fine, fine, fine—I get it. In your eyes, I’m neither as capable nor as smart as him.” Qin Zaozao grabbed a napkin from the table, dabbed at the corner of his eye—where there were no tears to speak of—and said in a theatrically wounded tone, “How could a faded flower like me compare to your precious darling now? Ah, Lao Sheng, how I miss those days when we slept foot-to-foot~”
Xia Yiyang’s pupils trembled: “Brother Qin, Boss, you two—”
“Don’t listen to his lies.” Sheng Lin immediately cut off the young man’s wild imagination. “In the dorm, Qin Zaozao and I had our beds foot-to-foot—that’s all. Besides, I moved out to live on my own in my sophomore year, so I didn’t spend much time in the dorms—just went back for a midday rest.”
Xia Yiyang: “Oh…”
He hadn’t asked anything—why was the boss explaining so much out of character?
In any case, Sheng Lin sent the fake fortune-teller Qin Zaozao packing with an unceremonious dismissal, even packing up his unfinished ice jelly to go.
Qin Zaozao was so mad he shouted outside the shop door: “You turtle-son-of-a-gun, do you believe I’ll leave a bad review for your shop on the delivery app?!”
“I’d welcome it,” Sheng Lin said. “My shop already has so many delivery orders that we can’t keep up—we have to close for two hours every afternoon. If one bad review from you could give my employees a few extra hours of rest, I’d be thrilled.”
Qin Zaozao: “…”
Ugh, so infuriating!
After Master Qin left, the ice jelly shop finally returned to its usual order. Xia Yiyang picked up his empty bowl of sweet tofu pudding and was about to slip away when Sheng Lin called out to him again.
“Where are you going?” the man asked.
Xia Yiyang held up the empty bowl cluelessly: “To the back kitchen to wash the dishes.”
“…” The man rephrased his question. “And after you wash the dishes?”
Xia Yiyang still didn’t get it: “Uh, go to the storage room to take inventory?”
Sheng Lin let out a half-helpless, half-amused sigh and looked down at the young man before him once more.
This time, he asked with greater clarity and seriousness: “What I mean is—have you decided which tourist attraction you want me to take you to?”
“!!!” The young master froze on the spot.
How to describe it?—It was like biting into a Sichuan peppercorn hidden among the vegetables in a spicy hotpot. From his fingertips to his throat, from his heart to his brain, he was consumed by that numbing sensation that could shut down his nerves entirely, leaving him unable to think.
Sheng Lin had always been a decisive person. He spoke again: “You have your day off the day after tomorrow, don’t you?”
“Yes…”
“Then it’s settled for the day after tomorrow. I’ll tell the aunties that I’ll be taking the day off with you.”
“…”
“We only have one day, so I suggest we explore around Rongcheng itself, or somewhere nearby on the outskirts.”
“…”
“Have you seen the bronze tree at the Sanxingdui Museum? The weirs at Dujiangyan are quite spectacular and worth a visit.” As he spoke, Sheng Lin’s deep eyes remained fixed on Xia Yiyang before him. His pace slowed, and there was actually a hint of softness in his voice—unlike his usual cool, stern tone. “I’ve been to all these places before, but if you want me to act as a guide, I’m not particularly good at that. How about we hire a tour guide instead—what do you think?”
The young man looked at him, his lashes fluttering, still remaining silent for a long time.
Sheng Lin misunderstood. After a moment’s thought, he yielded further: “Or… do you want to go somewhere farther? If you want to travel all over western Sichuan, you’d need at least a week—unfortunately, I can’t get away from the shop for that long, so I really can’t accompany you. But if we take two or three days to go to Jiuzhaigou, that I can manage.”
This time, Xia Yiyang finally found his voice.
He wanted to say that distance wasn’t the issue, time wasn’t the issue, the destination wasn’t the issue—the issue was, the issue was—
“Boss, the pendulum and the fortune-telling—that was all just Brother Qin joking around, wasn’t it…”
“He was joking,” Sheng Lin said in a low voice, “but I’m not.”
……
That very evening, Sheng Lin told the two aunties that he would be taking the day after tomorrow off to go out with Xia Yiyang.
“You two will be running the shop by yourselves. I’ll turn off the delivery orders in advance so you won’t be overwhelmed.” Sheng Lin instructed. “If anything unexpected comes up, you can call me.”
“Yao de yao de! (Sure thing, no problem!)” Auntie Zhao patted her chest and agreed readily. “With the two of us here, Boss, you and Xiao Xia can go out and have fun without a worry!”
Auntie Li added: “It’s about time you went out! Boss, ever since you opened this shop, you haven’t taken a single day off! This time you and Xiao Xia can go together—you two good friends can look out for each other!”
The young master’s hackles instantly rose, and he hurriedly tried to distance himself: “Wait, since when did I become good friends with the boss?!”
Auntie Li looked at him with confusion: “If you two aren’t good friends, how come you’re living together? Other shop bosses who provide accommodations deduct it from your wages—but our boss hasn’t charged you a single cent.”
Xia Yiyang: “…”
But… well… it’s not like… ah, forget it. There was no reasoning with the aunties.
After that, Auntie Zhao asked curiously where they were going. Sheng Lin replied that they hadn’t decided yet—they were waiting for Xia Yiyang to make the call.
But the young master didn’t have any plans at all. His only plan right now was to sneak that sticky note out of Sheng Lin’s pocket and tear it up, pretending the whole outing had never happened.
Did anyone in the world actually go out with their boss for fun?
At work, he had to look at Sheng Lin’s face; after work, it was still that same face; and on his day off, it would be that same face again! Though he admitted that Sheng Lin’s face was very manly and handsome and full of character, he still couldn’t imagine what it would be like to travel with him…
They would plan the route together, sample food together, enjoy the scenery together.
There were so many unknowns waiting for Xia Yiyang on this trip.
……
No matter how much Xia Yiyang wished time would slow down, in the blink of an eye, his day off had arrived.
He had every Tuesday off—it was part of his regular schedule. Even though it was summer break, weekday crowds were still much lighter than weekends, so going out on a Tuesday was actually quite fitting.
As for the destination… in the end, Xia Yiyang chose the panda base just outside Rongcheng.
Sichuan has been world-famous for pandas since ancient times. Legend has it that every Rongcheng resident over the age of eighteen can “adopt” a panda as a pet with their ID card.
During the intense final year of high school, while other students unwound with anime and video games, Xia Yiyang’s way of relaxing was different—he loved watching panda livestreams! No matter how much stress or frustration his studies brought, the moment he sat down to watch pandas eat bamboo, play on seesaws, and slide down slides, all those negative emotions would melt away.
—No one could possibly dislike pandas! (Super super super loud!)
The young master had been in Rongcheng for so long and still hadn’t had a chance to see the pandas! And recently, there were baby pandas on display too—he couldn’t wait to see those little pink cuties!
But summer in Rongcheng was too hot—the pandas didn’t want to spend much time outdoors. After catching some morning sun around eight or nine, they’d head back inside to rest. Xia Yiyang had specifically looked up tips: he had to be at the panda base entrance and line up before it opened at 7:30 to guarantee seeing the pandas first thing.
The panda base was over ten kilometers from Rongda University—about a forty-minute taxi ride. Accounting for all the other time spent along the way, leaving at 6:30 would be safest.
After the gaokao, the young master had never woken up this early.
Oh well—for the baby pandas, it was all worth it.
“Is it easy to get a taxi at our shop entrance at 6:30? Will we hit morning rush hour?” Xia Yiyang asked. “Boss, maybe I should book a car in advance.”
“No need for all that trouble,” Sheng Lin said. “I’ll take you on my bike.”
Xia Yiyang: “!”
How could he have forgotten—Sheng Lin had a motorcycle!
The first time they’d met, Sheng Lin had come back from outside riding that super cool motorcycle, scaring the young master into thinking he was looking at a gangster boss. Who would have thought that over half a month later, he’d actually be sitting on Sheng Lin’s back seat.
The moment he heard he’d get to ride the motorcycle, the boy’s eyes lit up, sparkling and bright, like a little dog that couldn’t hide its excitement.
Sheng Lin resisted the urge to ruffle his hair and thought: If I’d known this kid wanted to ride the motorcycle so badly, I’d have taken him for a spin along the Jin River ages ago.
Early the next morning, the two had a simple breakfast and headed downstairs. The motorcycle was parked in the backyard of the ice jelly shop. Yesterday, Sheng Lin had ridden it out specially to fill up the tank and get it serviced at the 4S shop.
Xia Yiyang had always thought the motorcycle was entirely black—until now, examining it closely in the glow of the morning sun, he realized it was actually a dark blue-purple. It was a very, very deep color—like the kiss where the sky meets the sea after the sun sets; or like the shimmer of a tremolo note reflected on a black piano key in a grand, gilded concert hall.
“What a gorgeous bike!” Xia Yiyang couldn’t wait, standing on his tiptoes to climb on.
“Hold on.” The man grabbed the back of his neck like he was catching a little animal, lifted him off the bike, and ordered, “Raise your arms.”
“Eh?” Xia Yiyang reflexively raised both hands.
The next second, elbow guards were slipped onto his arms.
Sheng Lin moved quickly, bending down to wrap knee pads around him as well. The man’s movements were meticulous—winding the elastic bands carefully around to protect the young man’s joints.
Xia Yiyang stood there foolishly, arms raised, legs spread apart, looking like a soldier surrendering.
Then a heavy helmet came down over his head. This time Xia Yiyang finally reacted, letting out an “Ouch!”
Sheng Lin paused: “What’s wrong? Did it pinch your ears?”
“This helmet is so tight…” Xia Yiyang had never worn a motorcycle helmet before. It felt like it was clamped firmly around his skull from all sides, as if he had a giant wok on his head.
Sheng Lin: “Tight means safe.” He asked again, “You’ve never worn one before?”
“Of course not.”
“What about an e-bike? You have to wear a helmet for those too.”
Xia Yiyang pouted. “Are you talking about Wen Sen? Now that I think about it, he was such a bad person. Back then, he’d come pick me up after work, and I asked him why he didn’t wear a helmet. He said he was such a good rider that he didn’t need one. But I wanted to be safe, so I said I’d still wear mine. The moment I put it on, he suddenly got angry! He accused me of not trusting his riding skills—he not only refused to wear one himself, but he forced me not to wear one either!”
Before he’d even finished speaking, the helmet’s visor suddenly snapped down with a loud clack, startling him. It also cut off all sound between the inside and outside of the helmet.
Through the reflective visor, he could see Sheng Lin’s gloomy expression.
“…?” Xia Yiyang thought to himself: The boss is so weird. He was the one who asked about Wen Sen, so why is he getting upset the moment I mention him?
After personally fitting Xia Yiyang with the knee pads, elbow guards, and helmet, Sheng Lin put on his own protective gear as well. He knew that many riders chased speed and thrill and didn’t bother wearing any gear at all—only to regret it deeply after an accident.
What fools.
What was the difference between driving without a seatbelt and “driving” without a condom?
For the safety of both rider and passenger, safety measures were a must.
With everything ready, Sheng Lin swung his long leg over the bike and got on. Xia Yiyang obediently sat on the back seat, his hands gripping the helmet on his head, still not used to its weight.
Just then, Xia Yiyang vaguely heard Sheng Lin in front of him say something.
“?” The young master looked at him blankly.
Sheng Lin turned around, looked at him, and said it again, slower.
The man’s lips moved, and Xia Yiyang could only make out three words.
The young master shouted: “What did you say? I can’t hear you!”
His own voice echoed loudly in his ears.
Actually, if he just pushed up the visor on his helmet, he’d be able to hear what Sheng Lin said. But he was unfamiliar with how the motorcycle helmet worked and completely forgot about that.
The next second, Sheng Lin answered with action instead—
—He took the young man’s hands and wrapped them around his own waist.
It was summer now, and they were both dressed lightly. Through Sheng Lin’s thin T-shirt, Xia Yiyang’s hands could clearly feel the warmth of his body and the distinct lines of his abs.
The young master finally realized what those three words Sheng Lin had said were.
“—Hold me tight.”
He was immensely grateful that the helmet was heavy enough to hide the burning heat on his cheeks.
……
After weaving through traffic for over half an hour, the two on the bike finally arrived at the parking lot just before the panda base opened.
As the motorcycle slowly pulled in and came to a stop, Xia Yiyang couldn’t wait to jump off.
Sheng Lin pushed up his visor and frowned at him: “Jumping off before the bike’s fully stopped—you could easily get hurt.”
The young master stammered: “It’s just… it’s so hot…”
He took off his helmet, his forehead indeed drenched in sweat, his face still carrying an unmistakable flush.
Seeing him wilted from the heat and looking pitiful, Sheng Lin couldn’t bring himself to scold him for his dangerous behavior anymore.
Xia Yiyang hadn’t been lying.
They’d been pressed so close together the entire ride—his entire upper body practically draped over Sheng Lin’s firm back, his arms wrapped around him—it was unbearably hot.
Besides the heat, there was the thrill. The motorcycle zipped through traffic, and his heart felt like it was about to leap out of his throat. He couldn’t even tell whether it was the speed or their bodies pressed together that made his heart race so fast.
The only thing he could do was clutch Sheng Lin’s clothes tightly and refuse to let go—so much so that he’d wrinkled the fabric.
After parking the bike, they found a locker to store their helmets and protective gear, then quickly headed toward the entrance.
The parking lot was still a distance from the gate, and vendors selling all sorts of things lined the path. Sheng Lin bought two bottles of iced mineral water and pressed them against Xia Yiyang’s cheeks—one on each side—for him to use to cool down.
Hot as it was, the young master’s shopping desire remained completely undiminished.
His eyes were glued to the panda plushies being sold at the stalls—he simply couldn’t look away.
This one was so cute, and that one was so cute too. A whole row of round-headed, plush pandas sat in a row on the stall: the smallest could be pinned to clothes, the largest could be hugged, and there were also all sorts of stationery, notebooks, fridge magnets, and other cultural merchandise… If Xia Yiyang didn’t have to be careful with his little savings, he’d really have gone all in.
He browsed for a long time and finally picked out two souvenirs.
One was the essential panda headband.
The design was very simple: a spring on each side of the headband, with two steamed-bun-sized plush pandas attached to them. When he wore it, the slightest movement of his head made the two little pandas wobble and sway—lively and adorable.
Yes—this was the ultimate photo prop!
The young master had finally made it to the panda base, and he was determined to take plenty of photos.
As for the other souvenir… it was a panda tie.
The tie featured a pop-art design, with rows of color-blocked pandas arranged neatly across the entire fabric.
Such bold colors suited those who walked at the forefront of fashion. Xia Yiyang was certain that if this tie appeared on Nanjing Road in Shanghai or Sanlitun in Beijing, sporting the label of some trendy boutique, it could easily sell for seven or eight hundred yuan. But here in Rongcheng, on a mobile stall outside the panda base, it could be had for just forty yuan.
The reason he bought it was… to give it to Sheng Lin.
Don’t get the wrong idea! He just wanted to see his boss make a fool of himself.
In all the time Xia Yiyang had worked at the ice jelly shop, he’d never seen Sheng Lin wear anything other than black T-shirts, white T-shirts, and blue jeans.
So Xia Yiyang had deliberately chosen a tie that completely clashed with Sheng Lin’s wardrobe, just to torment his aesthetic sensibilities.
With a mischievous grin, he handed the tie to Sheng Lin and said deliberately, “Boss, thank you for taking me out today—this is for you.”
He’d expected Sheng Lin to frown coldly and refuse outright. Instead, the man took it without a word.
Not only that—he opened the packaging, casually tied a loose knot, and let that color-blocked tie appear around his neck.
Xia Yiyang: “!! Wait, why are you putting it on right now?”
Sheng Lin: “Since we’re out having fun, it’s fine to dress a little flashy.”
Xia Yiyang scratched his head in bewilderment, thinking: Who in the world wears a tie with a sleeveless athletic T-shirt?!
But strangely enough, that flashy tie actually… looked oddly fitting.
The man was dressed in light summer clothes—loose jeans and a sleeveless tank top that were neither remarkable nor disappointing on him, just average. But with the tie added, it was like a rainbow had descended to brighten his palette, giving his outfit more depth and a fresh twist.
No, wait.
Xia Yiyang shook his head vigorously, wondering if the heat had fried his brain. How could he possibly think that combination looked good?
He stared at Sheng Lin for a long moment, then tentatively reached out and blocked Sheng Lin’s face with his hand, leaving only the body below the neck visible.
Xia Yiyang: “Uh…”
He lowered his hand and continued examining the full outfit.
Xia Yiyang: “Hmm…”
He kept raising and lowering his hand, and Sheng Lin was thoroughly confused.
Sheng Lin: “What are you doing?”
“Nothing.” Xia Yiyang put his hand down in frustration and muttered, “I’m just realizing—at the end of the day, fashion really does come down to the face!!”
Sheng Lin: “?”
What was this kid mumbling about? He didn’t understand.
The man reached out and flicked the panda headband on Xia Yiyang’s head, urging him: “Let’s hurry up—aren’t we here to see the pandas?”
……
At 7:30, the panda base opened on the dot. All the gates opened simultaneously, and the crowd surged in like a flood. The previously calm stream of people suddenly went wild—everyone sprinting in a hundreds-of-meters dash.
The last time Xia Yiyang had seen such a “spectacular” sight was at Disneyland.
He looked left: a sixty-year-old photography enthusiast carrying a thirty-pound camera was dashing ahead with ease. He looked right: a beautifully dressed woman in high heels, a cheongsam, and a round silk fan was gliding past like a swallow.
The young master was huffing and puffing, watching helplessly as others overtook him.
Ugh, so frustrating.
Seeing him struggling, Sheng Lin stopped and walked alongside him at a slower pace.
Xia Yiyang was self-sacrificing: “Don’t worry about me—go ahead! They’re all going to see the pandas. If you’re late, you won’t get to see them!”
Sheng Lin sighed helplessly. “…They’re just pandas.”
“Pandas aren’t ‘just’ anything!” Xia Yiyang grew flustered, the panda headband on his head wobbling with his agitation. His tone was exaggerated: “Is there anything in this world cuter than pandas? No!”
Sheng Lin stared at his flustered face and thought: Actually, there is.
In any case, the two of them alternated between stopping and running, then running and stopping… and finally arrived at the enclosure of the most famous internet-famous panda in the park.
The pandas here had living quarters far superior to those in ordinary zoos. They weren’t confined to glass cages but played freely in a spacious, gently sloping area. They lived a leisurely life—their only concern being whether the bamboo shoots were tender enough.
Xia Yiyang and Sheng Lin had indeed arrived late. Outside the railing, the viewing crowd was packed solid, making it nearly impossible to get closer.
“So cute~”
“Really so adorable~”
“Look—it’s doing a somersault!”
“It knows how to roll too!”
“Ahhhhh—it’s starting to climb a tree!”
Voices from the front rose and fell. Every person who saw the pandas couldn’t help but raise their pitch and speak in soft, cooing tones. Just listening to the “live commentary” was enough to drive Xia Yiyang crazy. He gave Sheng Lin a look, signaling him to follow, then braced himself and charged into the crowd.
Though Xia Yiyang had come prepared, breaking through the layers of people was proving way too difficult…
He pushed and squeezed for ages, sweating profusely, only to look up and find he’d advanced barely one meter.
Don’t underestimate that mere meter—within that one square meter, five people were packed in!
But ahead of him were still several more “square meters”—and they were square meters with six people, square meters with seven people, square meters with eight people… Good heavens, this was practically Tourist.zip, automatically extracting upon arrival!
Just as Xia Yiyang was reaching exhaustion, a force came out of nowhere from some direction in the crowd, slamming hard into his waist and making him lose his balance, sending him falling backward.
Good news—because there were people all around him, he didn’t actually fall; he was sandwiched right in the middle of the crowd!
Bad news—the person pressed directly behind him was Sheng Lin…
Xia Yiyang: “…”
Who would have thought that such an ordinary bump would send him tumbling straight into Sheng Lin’s arms?
“Are you okay?” The man’s low voice sounded by his ear.
Sheng Lin bent down slightly, leaning closer. Because the crowd was so dense, he had to speak right next to Xia Yiyang’s ear to make sure he could hear.
“I-I’m fine.” Xia Yiyang’s heart started racing again, and he was sweating from the heat. Was it because there were too many people and the oxygen was too thin?
He grabbed Sheng Lin’s arm to try to steady himself—but before he could get his footing, another elbow came out of nowhere. This time, Sheng Lin blocked the arm steadily, stopping it from hurting Xia Yiyang.
“Watch where you’re going,” Sheng Lin said coldly to that visitor. “With so many people around, don’t just flail your arms around.”
Though he was handsome, his cold expression was so fierce that the visitor quickly apologized repeatedly.
After that, Xia Yiyang tried several times to pull away from Sheng Lin’s embrace, but each time, something would come flying at him.
Including but not limited to: a flying empty water bottle, a sandal that fell off some kid, a selfie stick long enough to raise a national flag, and an apple a visitor threw to feed the pandas (friendly reminder: you’re not supposed to feed the pandas)…
If it weren’t for Sheng Lin protecting him, Xia Yiyang had no idea how many injuries he’d have sustained.
This wasn’t a panda base—it was a zombie base.
Under the assault of the human-zip, Xia Yiyang could only resign himself to his fate.
On the way to the panda base, Xia Yiyang had been pressed against Sheng Lin’s back. Now the positions had reversed—he was pressed against Sheng Lin’s chest.
To be honest… being in his boss’s arms actually felt pretty safe.
Sheng Lin was tall, broad-shouldered, and long-legged—almost a full size larger than Xia Yiyang. One of Sheng Lin’s arms was wrapped around the young man’s waist, and the panda headband on the boy’s head brushed against the side of his face. Every time the boy turned his head, the fuzzy little pandas would rub against Sheng Lin’s cheek—and occasionally, against his straight nose and tightly pressed lips.
It tickled, but Sheng Lin didn’t say a word.
The two of them slowly inched their way toward the railing—one meter, another meter, another meter…
Finally, after who knows how many meters, they had squeezed all the way to the front of the railing!
Xia Yiyang’s gaze landed on a black-and-white fuzzy ball slowly lying down on the gentle slope. The panda grabbed its hind paws with its front paws, curled into a ball, and gave a little forward rock—and gurururururu—the panda ball rolled right down the hill!
At the bottom of the slope was the panda’s playground, complete with a slide, climbing net, wooden horse, tire swing… The lively panda played on each one in turn—taking a tumble off the swing, rocking back and forth on the wooden horse—too adorable for words.
“Panda V(＾－＾)V! Panda V(＾－＾)V! Panda V(＾－＾)V!” Xia Yiyang was so happy he turned into an emoji.
The giant pandas he’d watched countless times on panda livestreams during his senior year were now right there in front of him, alive. Those nights buried in practice tests, those dull textbooks, those stolen moments looking up at the sky during study breaks… they were all in the past now. All of it.
In this second, he was standing here, only a dozen or so meters away from these adorable animals—not thousands of kilometers.
The young man was too excited to notice that his left hand was tightly holding Sheng Lin’s left hand.
His right hand pointed toward the slope ahead, and he spoke in that excited, high-pitched voice: “Boss, look—it’s eating bamboo!”
“Mm, I see it.” Sheng Lin truly couldn’t understand why an animal eating would elicit such fervor from so many visitors, but since Xia Yiyang loved it, he was happy to go along. He asked him, “Do you want to take some photos?”
Xia Yiyang nodded eagerly: “Yao de~ yao de~! (Yes, yes!)”
He handed his phone to Sheng Lin and stepped back to the edge of the railing. Unfortunately, that meant their hands naturally separated.
Sheng Lin raised the phone with one hand, zooming in and out, adjusting brightness and contrast, and finally managed to snap a few precious photos amidst the packed crowd.
Sheng Lin handed the phone back to the young master: “Done.”
The young master couldn’t wait to open the photo album.
Silence.
He scrolled to the next photo with a sinking heart.
Continued silence.
He scrolled and scrolled and scrolled.
A long, heavy silence.
Sheng Lin: “…?”
“They’re great photos,” Xia Yiyang said with an exceptionally fake smile. “No need to take any more next time.”
The young master was absolutely livid—he was such a bright, cheerful, fresh, adorable, universally liked young handsome guy—how could Sheng Lin have taken photos that made him look big-headed and small-bodied, with an oily face, a parted fringe, and not even reminding him that his headband was crooked, AHHHHHHHH!
And the pandas behind him?
Sheng Lin hadn’t even captured a single panda in any of the photos, AHHHHHHHH!!
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