On our one-year anniversary, my junior classmate posted on her social media. It was a photo of her barbecuing outdoors with a guy. Caption: "Three meals, four seasons with my love." Coincidentally, the guy's back looked exactly like my boyfriend, Chi Yan. It might as well have been him. I gave her post a like. The next second, she messaged me: "Sis, don't get the wrong idea. It's just that Senior said he's been stressed lately, so…" Before I could respond, she basically confirmed it was Chi Yan. I glanced at Chi Yan, who was sitting next to me working on something, and tossed my phone to him. "Care to explain?" Chi Yan finally looked up, glanced at the chat, then checked her post. He noticed it was visible only to me. Rubbing his temples, he looked at me seriously. "Do you really think I'd be that reckless? Barbecuing in the wild can start a wildfire. That's an insult to my professional ethics." Oh, right. I forgot—Chi Yan's a firefighter. Fire safety is practically his religion. Before I could say anything, he grabbed my phone and commented on her post: "So you're the one who almost started a wildfire yesterday." Yesterday, we went hiking and found someone had been barbecuing, leaving an unextinguished fire. Chi Yan was furious, putting it out while muttering curses. My junior classmate, oblivious to how pissed her "idol" was, messaged me: "Sorry, Sis, if I'd known you'd be this upset, I'd have asked Senior to invite you." Great. She forgot what her precious "Senior" does for a living. Chi Yan sent her a voice message: "This is Chi Yan. Come to the fire station tomorrow." She hadn't caught on, shyly replying, "Sis won't be mad, right?" I laughed. Of course not. Because I knew Chi Yan was about to make her do two hours of fire safety quizzes. Guaranteed, after tomorrow, she'd run at the sight of him. After sending the message, Chi Yan caught me smirking and pouted. "Has she never taken a fire safety class? Talk about clueless." I could only smile.