Chapter 3: An “Accidental” Touch

Steeling herself, Lin Shiyu took the seat beside Su Wan, feeling as though she had just sat down on the rim of a volcano.

“This is a university-wide elective. I didn’t expect we’d happen to choose the same class.”

Su Wan slid the cup of soy milk toward her.

“It’s still warm. No sugar.”

How does she know I don’t like sugar?

The question only deepened Lin Shiyu’s unease, but she kept her expression polite.

“Thank you, but I’ve already had breakfast.”

“Then save it for the break.”

Su Wan wasn’t the least bit offended. She simply smiled as warmly as ever.

Throughout the lecture, Lin Shiyu did her best to ignore the person sitting beside her.

Su Wan, on the other hand, was perfectly well-behaved, diligently taking notes the entire time. Every so often, when the professor made a particularly amusing remark, she would turn to glance at Lin Shiyu, her eyes carrying the unmistakable look of an inside joke only the two of us understand.

For someone as socially anxious as Lin Shiyu, that effortless sense of intimacy felt strangely oppressive.

The bell rang, and the classroom emptied in a rush.

As Lin Shiyu packed her belongings, she accidentally knocked her pen onto the floor.

“I’ve got it.”

Both of them reached for it at the same time.

Their fingertips touched.

Su Wan’s fingers were cool, smooth as jade. The instant they brushed against the warmth of Lin Shiyu’s fingertips, Lin Shiyu distinctly felt Su Wan’s hand tremble.

Then, instead of immediately pulling away like anyone else would, or simply picking up the pen—

Su Wan took advantage of the motion.

So subtly it was almost imperceptible, she lightly brushed the back of Lin Shiyu’s hand.

The movement was so quick, so carefully concealed, that Lin Shiyu would never have noticed if she hadn’t already been on high alert.

It didn’t feel like an accidental touch.

It felt more like a caress.

A tentative one.

Lin Shiyu jerked her hand back as though she’d been burned.

“Sorry.”

Su Wan picked up the pen and handed it back to her, her face the picture of innocent apology.

“Static electricity?”

Yeah, right.

Lin Shiyu accepted the pen, shoved it haphazardly into her bag, and stammered,

“I-It’s fine. I should get going.”

As she stepped out of the library, the evening breeze washed over her, and only then did she realize a thin sheen of sweat covered her back.

She glanced back at the brightly lit library.

The setting sun stretched Su Wan’s shadow into a long silhouette, like a silent net spread wide.

Suddenly, Lin Shiyu remembered the moment their fingers had touched.

Su Wan’s hands had been trembling.

Not from nervousness.

Not from shyness.

But from restraint.

Desperate restraint.

Like a beast suppressing its instincts, terrified that the slightest lapse in self-control would end with its prey torn apart.

A shiver ran down Lin Shiyu’s spine.

She realized something even more terrifying—

Su Wan wasn’t merely strange.

Su Wan was dangerous.

Oddly enough, that sense of danger didn’t make Lin Shiyu want to run away immediately.

Instead, it stirred a strange thrill deep within her.

Standing beneath the streetlamp, she could still feel the lingering sensation where Su Wan had touched her. It was like a tiny flame, traveling from her fingertips through every nerve until it settled in the depths of her heart.

Thinking back over all of their recent “chance encounters,” Lin Shiyu suddenly noticed a pattern.

The first time, at the convenience store, Su Wan had been buying sugar-free oolong tea.

The second time, after seeing Lin Shiyu frustrated by compiler errors while they happened to be assigned to the same project group, Su Wan had handed her a warm latte with milk, but no sugar.

And today, the soy milk Su Wan had given her had also been warm.

And sugar-free.

Lin Shiyu’s tastes were remarkably consistent, almost monotonous. Very few people noticed such insignificant details besides her close roommates.

Yet Su Wan knew.

Not only did she know she always seemed to appear at precisely the moment she was needed.

This couldn’t possibly be a coincidence.

An absurd thought exploded into Lin Shiyu’s mind.

Su Wan had been observing her.

Perhaps even before they had exchanged their very first words, under the gaze of those gentle eyes, every one of Lin Shiyu’s habits, preferences, and little quirks had already been meticulously cataloged, taken apart, and studied by her.

She was like an unsuspecting fawn that had wandered into a predator’s territory, quietly enclosed and patiently raised by an elegant hunter.

The realization that she was being understood controlled so completely sent a chill down her spine.

Yet beneath that fear, her heart continued to pound uncontrollably.

Was it her instinctive rejection of danger…

Or was it a secret longing for such all-consuming attention?

Lin Shiyu drew a deep breath of the cool late-autumn air, trying to suppress the warmth that had somehow crept onto her cheeks.

Clutching the strap of her backpack tightly, she quickened her pace toward the dormitory.

But she knew something had already changed.

The invisible net was slowly drawing tighter.

And she—

to her own astonishment—

was beginning to look forward to being caught again.