Chapter 6 Teasing the Past
After we split into teams.
The director announced, “Your morning taskSimplifying long dash clauses
- Break "All this time—no new relationships..." into two sentences with reduced list items.
is to get to the stadium fifteen kilometers away on your own. You have one hour.”
Even a taxi would take at least thirty minutes, and it cost fifty yuan per ride.
Song Nanzhou and I stood on the roadside. A bus stopped just ahead. I glanced at him and tried, “Should we take the bus?”
He shot it down instantly. “Terrible idea. How could a princess ride the bus?”
My face went hot, then pale. I snapped, “What princess?”
He drawled, lazy and smug, “Forgot already? Everything has its owner~ I’m your princess.”
“And you made me change my QQ signature to ‘Guns and Roses—always on standby for the princess.’”
“Shut up!!!”
Mortified, I shot up on my tiptoes to cover his mouth. I was too short—my palm barely brushed his lips.
He laughed anyway, muffled and teasing, the sound vibrating under my hand.
“Princess, let’s just take a taxi.”
His warm breath grazed my skin. Heat rushed through me.
Only then did I realize how close we were—like he had me trapped in his arms.
I yanked my hand away and stepped back, pretending nothing happened.
He flagged down a taxi, haggled, and locked in fifty yuan.
I handed over the cash, heart bleeding.
“Don’t look so miserable,” he said. “I’ll win it back for you this afternoon.”
His words eased the sting. I nodded. “Yeah. No one’s better than you.”
He raised a brow. “Oh? Digging up old dirt now?”
“I’m not,” I protested.
He sighed dramatically. “Who was it that, back when we were all over each other, promised to kiss me until my own parents wouldn’t recognize me?”
“Song Nanzhou, I’m this close to cursing you out.”
If looks could kill, he’d already be dead.
The rest of the ride passed with him happily dredging up ancient history and me answering with cold “uh-huhs” and “don’t remember.”
We reached the stadium. The director finally showed mercy and fed us lunch for free.
Then he explained the afternoon game: ping-pong against the staff. Ten yuan per win, max one hundred.
“Who wants to go first?”
Song Nanzhou stepped forward. “Me.”
He turned to me. “Get ready to count cash.”
Su Xiner was already sparkling beside us. “Senior Song is so cool. So manly.”
I didn’t like my own tone when I answered, “Is he?”
She caught my expression and backtracked fast. “Totally. Your man’s the coolest.”
I nodded, satisfied. “Exactly.”
Song Nanzhou swept ten straight games and strolled over with a crisp hundred-yuan bill.
“Am I good or what?”
I took the money and answered something else entirely. “Men who give money are the hottest.”
He grinned. “So if I gave you everything I own?”
I went serious. “Then you’d be the hottest man alive.”
He mocked a sigh. “Fine. I’m nothing important—just a tiny speck in Orange Sis’s life.”
“Keep up the sarcasm and you’re sleeping in the vegetable patch tonight.”
I pretended to scowl.
He shut up immediately, leaned close, and whispered, “Orange Sis, I was wrong.”
I hummed, pleased.
Same old Song Nanzhou—did whatever I said.
And he definitely didn’t speak to me in that fragile Lin Daiyu tone anymore.