Buying snacks didn’t take long—but stuffing them into her pockets while clutching a not-so-small parcel box? Tricky. Honestly, Shu Yuxin felt she looked ridiculous walking down the street.

Luckily, fewer people were on the path. She was glad she’d come after dinner.

To her slight surprise, the little dog had actually waited right there. It paced around the corn sausage wrapper, glancing at it now and then. Sadly, not a single bite remained.

Seeing Shu Yuxin return, the pup paused for a moment, then wagged its tail and trotted over.

Shu Yuxin stopped where she’d fed it earlier, slowly crouched, and placed all the snacks on the parcel box in her arms. One by one, she tore open the wrappers and set them on the ground.

The pup edged closer, sniffed carefully, and began eating.

Its head-down munching was adorable. Shu Yuxin reached out to pat its head—but hesitated at its soaked, muddy fur. No sink nearby. Dirty hands would feel awful.

She withdrew her hand and watched silently.

Rain intensified. Droplets splashed the pup’s wagging tail, flicking a few onto Shu Yuxin’s pants. Oblivious, it kept happily eating.

Shu Yuxin glanced ahead. Noticing the heavier downpour, she stood slowly and hugged the parcel tighter.

Her tiny single-person umbrella wouldn’t hold up. Getting wet herself was fine—but the brand-new mouse inside? A total loss. Bloody waste.

She glanced at the pup, hesitated, then decided to leave early. She felt for it—but sympathy was all she could offer.

With a soft sigh, she turned to go. One step in—and froze.

On the nearby gravel path stood a guy, watching her.

Black umbrella. Disposable mask. Elegant clothes. Pleasant-looking.

But being stared at like that? Not pleasant at all.

Shu Yuxin didn’t recognize him. Never seen him. Strangers staring without reason always made her inexplicably nervous.

A red armband circled his left arm. From her angle, she couldn’t read the text—but she guessed Student Union. What else? In a university, it’s not like he’s from the neighborhood committee, right?

She knew little about Nanhu College’s Student Union. Honestly, her only exposure came from Japanese school anime—high school ones, from another country. Worlds apart from Chinese university reality. Her entire understanding boiled down to one rumor: *“University Student Unions are just like society—full of scheming and backstabbing.”*

She didn’t know if it was true. But hearing “scheming” instantly conjured palace drama scenes. Maybe that rumor colored her view—but her impression of Student Unions wasn’t great.

So now, a Student Union member staring unblinking? Her first thought: *Did I do something wrong?*

Was feeding strays banned? No way. During military training, people tossed food to strays all the time. Some even kept pets secretly in dorms. Her act wasn’t over the line.

She glanced down at the pup.

Then it hit her—

All those snack wrappers. Litter everywhere.

The guy still stared, motionless. Made her feel a little guilty.

*“Seriously? We’re in college—does tossing a few wrappers matter? I was doing a good deed!”*

He kept staring.

Shu Yuxin pursed her lips, tucked the box under her arm, and crouched. With her free left hand, she hastily gathered the torn, rain-soaked, drool-streaked wrappers mixed with dead leaves. The texture made her shudder.

*Damn.* She’d just worried about keeping her hands clean.

*That jerk.*

Standing up, she shot him a resentful glare.

Rain blurred the look—he didn’t see it.

They held eye contact half a minute. Finally, he nodded, turned, and walked toward the small street.

*“So much fuss over trash? Still think we’re in high school?”* she muttered, then looked down at the pup.

While she cleaned, the pup had finished every snack. It seemed to sense she was leaving—and with her, the tiny shelter under her umbrella. Rain fell harder. The pup hesitated by her feet, let out a soft, farewell whimper, and darted into the downpour.

It ran toward the wasteland’s far corner, where bamboo grew. Not great cover—but better than the thin saplings.

Shu Yuxin stood still, watching until the pup vanished behind the bamboo grove. Only then did she turn and leave.

Only two or three students remained on the path. The Student Union guy was still out of sight. She tossed the trash, then headed straight back to Weiyaersi.

Jiang Zixuan had given her apartment keys days ago. He supposedly had class this afternoon—so the place should be empty.

Finally at the door, her pant legs were soaked. Wet fabric clung uncomfortably. She tossed her umbrella aside, pulled out her keys—

And froze. The apartment wasn’t empty.

On the sofa, Peng Xiaoxiao and Yan Zhikai were locked in a fierce PlayStation fighting game battle, oblivious to her entrance.

“Hey! Wait! We said no cheap combos!” Peng Xiaoxiao yelled, frantically mashing buttons.

Yan Zhikai scoffed. “Dream on. Without this combo, I’d be the one getting pummeled.”

“Wow! How can you hit such a cute Marie Rose?!”

“Eh~ Sorry. I go for mature women.”

He finished the sentence with a flashy combo—KO.

“Ahh—! I quit! Can’t beat you!” Peng slumped back, tossing her controller.

Yan set his down with a self-satisfied grin. “Kidding? I drilled combos for half a month back then. Losing easily? Embarrassing.”

Shu Yuxin stood quietly. When they still didn’t notice her, she cleared her throat. “Ahem. So… why are you at my place?”

Peng Xiaoxiao jumped up. “Whoa! Shu Yuxin! You really live with Jiang Zixuan!”

“…Didn’t I tell you?”

“Haha! Seeing is believing!” Peng grinned, though no one knew why.

Yan Zhikai’s face went pale. “What?! You live together?! What the hell?!”

Shu Yuxin set the parcel on the table, bewildered. “How did you get here?”

“I brought them.” The bathroom door opened. Jiang Zixuan stepped out smiling. “They wanted to hang out.”

Yan’s expression shifted from “seen a ghost” to “being haunted.” He’d guessed they were close—maybe opposite-sex best friends—but *cohabiting*? Never crossed his mind.

*Holy crap.*

Shu Yuxin, missing his shock, stared at Jiang. “Didn’t you have class this afternoon?”

“Yeah,” Jiang grinned. “I skipped it.”

“You skipped?!” Now *she* looked like she’d seen a ghost.

School just started! Freshman year! How could he say that like sipping water?!

“Hah, what’s with that face?” Jiang chuckled. “It’s just Marxist Philosophy. Skipping’s no big deal.”

Shu Yuxin’s eye twitched. “You’re gonna get yourself killed.”

“I’ve been waiting to die every second,” Jiang shrugged.

Shu Yuxin: “….”

“Ah, that retort’s good—very my style,” Yan said, ruffling his hair as he stood. “Old Jiang, I’m out soon. Gotta cram tonight—last make-up exam tomorrow. Stopped by to ask: National Day plans? If free, let’s trip two days. My treat.”