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Shen Xi answered immediately, “No.”
“Alright,” she shrugged, looking utterly punchable. “If you say so...”
“You think I’d believe that?”
Shen Xi avoided her gaze, refusing to even glance her way.
Lin Zhan thought for a moment, then pulled out her phone and kissed it.
Shen Xi: ?
Lin Zhan teased, “Jealous now?”
His Adam’s apple bobbed before he finally looked away.
“You’re insane.”
She poked his shoulder. “I just talked to him a bit and glanced his way a few times. I’m really not interested...”
She grinned. ”One of you is already enough to drive me crazy. How could my brain fit a second person?”
________________________________________
A month later, the Starlight Cup results were announced at school.
At noon, Lin Zhan and Zheng Yimian rushed over.
Standing in the courtyard, they could hear the broadcast.
Yu Qing was right in front of them.
Seeing Lin Zhan, she turned with a smile. “Results are out. I did really well this time. But I know you’re inconsistent, and this wasn’t your usual style.”
Lin Zhan ignored her.
“Third Prize: Shen An’an, Yu Qing, Li Sheng.”
Yu Qing let out a soft laugh, flashing Lin Zhan a victorious smirk.
“Second Prize: Jiang Xuan.”
Yu Qing’s smile widened.
“First Prize winners are—
“Lin Zhan, Zheng Yimian, Xu Hui.”
“Congratulations!”
Yu Qing’s smile froze.
Sun Hong whooped. “Damn, Zhan-jie and Mianmian killed it!”
Zheng Yimian humbly added, “I’m just okay. This was my strength. Zhanzhan isn’t used to this style, so winning first prize is huge.”
Lin Zhan stood there silently, letting reality slap Yu Qing in the face—
She didn’t paint that way not because she couldn’t, but because she chose not to.
________________________________________
That evening, as Shen Xi walked home planning when to pick up Lin Zhan, a figure suddenly blocked his path.
Yu Qing.
She stood there pitifully.
Shen Xi glanced past her at the road behind.
Yu Qing closed her eyes. “I know this might bother you, but I can’t hold back anymore. I’ve liked you longer than Lin Zhan has. Even if we’re competing fairly, I—”
“We’re not competing,” Shen Xi cut in, checking his watch. ”I like Lin Zhan.”
________________________________________
With the Starlight Cup over, life settled back into routine.
Yu Qing never appeared again.
Finally free, Lin Zhan remembered her neglected Twitter account, ”A-Zhan.”
Too busy lately, she hadn’t logged in for months. Surprisingly, her followers had grown by hundreds.
This account had started as a hobby. Back in her first two years of high school, she’d drawn fan art for novels—even chibi versions of characters. Some original authors reposted her work, and her following slowly grew.
Recently, she’d posted random doodles and landscapes.
Aside from the online persona, she rarely used this alias in real life—except for that one painting, ”Gift,” submitted to the gallery.
At the time, she and Lin Zhengping were in a cold war. After failing a major competition, he’d berated her for “regressing from arrogance” while pushing her to join this exhibition.
Lin Zhengping judged her art solely by awards, something Lin Zhan refused to accept. So she submitted under ”A-Zhan.”
True to form, when Lin Zhengping found no ”Lin Zhan” among the selected works, he lectured her again.
She stayed silent, never revealing she was ”A-Zhan.” As if this small rebellion could defy his功利 mindset—as if it proved her worth wasn’t in trophies, but in the act of creation itself.
She refused to let painting become tainted.
That piece wasn’t just inspiration—it was an outburst. Beneath it, she’d written:
“You granted me glory, then handed me endless nooses.”
A message to Lin Zhengping, and to the talent she both loved and resented.
Now, she doodled a chibi Shen Xi—though honestly, all chibis looked alike.
Posted: [Back after forever! Drew someone I like (´▽`)].
Fans immediately speculated who it could be.
[We thought you quit! sobs]
[Is this someone 2D or 3D??]
A-Zhan replied: [A hero.]
*[When will we get R-18 content? ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)]*
A-Zhan: [Maybe in the next millennium.]
[Your style’s so cute! Please release an artbook!]
The next noon, over coffee, Lin Zhan checked her phone.
A fan had asked: [You mentioned being in school—are you a senior now? Any tips for the art exams?]
Lin Zhan reposted: [Any art students here? Want exam tips? If enough people are interested, I’ll do some tutorials!]
The moment she hit send—ding.
A notification chimed beside her.
Lin Zhan turned. “...What are you doing?”
Shen Xi: “...Nothing.”
Lin Zhan leaned over. “Are you secretly messaging someone?”
Shen Xi flipped his phone screen-down. “No.”
“Then why hide it?”
“...”
Lin Zhan gasped. “Are you cheating?! You have secrets now, Shen Xi!”
Shen Xi frowned. “I’m not.”
“Then show me.”
He didn’t move.
Lin Zhan’s eyes welled up. “I’m right here, and you’re texting someone else...”
“It’s not that,” Shen Xi relented. “It’s a notification from a blogger I follow. I didn’t want you to see and... overthink.”
“What kind of blogger? That kind?”
“Of course not,” he soothed. “Don’t cry.”
“But you’re acting so shady! We’ve only been together a few months, and already—”
“I wasn’t hiding from you,” he said. “I was hiding it for you—so you wouldn’t get the wrong idea.”
Lin Zhan clenched her fists. “Is this your... white moonlight?”
“No. Just someone I admire.”
She snatched his phone. “It’s just a blogger. How bad could it—”
Her voice died.
Staring at the screen, her mind short-circuited.
The notification was from a special follow—an ID she knew all too well.
A-Zhan.
Lin Zhan was stunned.
Shen Xi’s special follow was her alternate account?!
She’d just been jealous... of herself?!
Recovering quickly, she coughed. “Oh, A-Zhan. Yeah, she’s amazing. Totally understandable you’d fall for her.”
Shen Xi: “I didn’—”
“You must be obsessed. I get it—she’s that captivating.” Lin Zhan smirked. “Who knew you, Shen Xi, were so deeply moved by artistic souls?”
Shen Xi massaged his temples. Just as he was about to speak—
A realization struck like lightning.
Lin Zhan.
A-Zhan.
Lin (林) + Zhan (盏) = Zhan (栈).
His hand froze mid-air.
Sunlight streamed through the window, casting scattered shadows.
Shen Xi opened his mouth—but no words came out.
...The person he followed online and offline was the same.
Seeing his speechlessness, Lin Zhan couldn’t help grinning. She hooked a finger under his chin, tilting his face toward hers.
With utmost solemnity, she declared:
“Shen Xi, I had no idea you loved not just my face... but also my talent.”
“...”
Lin Zhan sighed, touching her cheek. “What can I say? Being this exceptional is exhausting.”
“If you’re so exhausted,” Shen Xi pushed the matcha cake toward her, “eat this. Let me... process.”
She stabbed a bite. “Is it that hard to accept? Did you think I, Lin Zhan, was just a pretty face?”
“No,” he tapped the table. “I just didn’t expect the person I followed in both worlds to be the same.”
Lin Zhan said sagely, “You know what this means?”
“What?”
“It means no matter the universe, we’d be drawn together. This isn’t coincidence—it’s fate.”
Dead serious.
Shen Xi asked, “Why A-Zhan though? You usually sign your real name.”
“That piece wasn’t for a competition—just something I painted at home. I knew it’d get in. Lin Zhengping judges my work solely by awards, so I refused to let him know I won.”
“Of course, he still said it was bad. But it wasn’t.”
Shen Xi recalled the line beneath that painting.
Softly, he said, “Yeah. Your work’s always been good.”
________________________________________
After lunch, Lin Zhan prepared to return to the studio. Since it was the weekend, Shen Xi’s parents were home—no napping at his place.
But Shen Xi caught her wrist.
“They’re not home today.”
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