The next day, Chi Yan went to work and dragged me along, claiming I needed to "document the process for public awareness." My junior classmate, who'd spent five hours getting dolled up, saw me and her face darkened instantly. I tugged at Chi Yan's sleeve. "Honey, she's giving me such a scary look. I'm spooked." Chi Yan glanced at me reassuringly, then resumed his usual stern demeanor. He walked up to her. She fixed her hair and giggled. "Senior, what's this about?" Chi Yan frowned. "Your actions yesterday could've started a wildfire. Clearly, your fire safety awareness is lacking. I called you here to learn." Her smile widened. She probably thought this was his excuse to spend time with her. She even chirped, "Great! Will you teach me, Senior?" Without a word, Chi Yan led her to a room. I followed. Her face soured when she saw me. "Senior, if we're studying, shouldn't it be just us? I'll get distracted." Chi Yan ignored her, slamming a thick stack of fire safety quizzes in front of her. "Finish these. You're not leaving until you do." Her face turned green. I seized the moment to snap a photo of her expression. Regret after nearly causing a disaster—definitely share-worthy. 

Two hours later, she hadn't even finished the first page. Glancing at Chi Yan, who was being all lovey-dovey with me, she bit her lip. "Senior, I really don't get it." Fire safety quizzes are tough, I'll give her that. Chi Yan didn't think twice and walked over. Seeing she hadn't finished the first page, his face darkened. "You don't know which extinguisher to use for a library fire?" Curious, I leaned in to look. Most of it was basic stuff. Was she pretending to be clueless to spend more time with him? She looked aggrieved. "Sorry, Senior, I'm just too dumb. Can you teach me? Back in school, I always asked you when I didn't understand." She shot me a glance. I propped my chin up, not even bothering to look at her. According to Chi Yan, he and this junior were neighbors. Her mom was crafty, sending her to Chi Yan's house every summer for free tutoring. Chi Yan still griped about it: "Always using me as free labor. If I'd known better, I'd have reported her for exploiting a kid." Thanks to his efforts, she got into the same university as us. Naturally, she mistook his forced tutoring for some grand romantic gesture, thinking he wanted her by his side. For four years, she fantasized about a sweet campus romance with him. Even now, she thought their "past" was something I could never touch. Chi Yan, ever the responsible boyfriend, worried she'd cause trouble again due to her ignorance, so he tutored her. Within half an hour, he was losing it. "You're this clueless? No wonder you'd barbecue on a mountain." Seeing him about to lose his temper, I got ready to slip out. If he made me do quizzes next, I'd be done for. Half an hour later, Chi Yan stormed out, face dark, with a teary-eyed junior trailing behind. I thought she'd finally give up on him. But that night, she posted again: "Gotta learn fire safety with Mr. Chi!" with a photo of his side profile, visible to everyone. To others, they looked like a couple. Mutual friends commented jokingly: "Dumped Lin Qiao already? Impressive, girl." "Rekindling an old flame?" "Hurry up, we're waiting for the wedding invite." Chi Yan and I kept our relationship low-key, so only a few close friends knew. This gave her the perfect opening. Once her post spread, I posted a photo of us having dinner: "Mr. Chi says dealing with clueless people is exhausting, so let's make your favorite food to cheer you up. @ChiYan"