Chapter 8: Brother, You Smell So Good (Please Follow)

Chen Yansen came home and collapsed into bed, only getting up reluctantly when his alarm rang, then riding his bike to the county hospital.

The process went smoothly—his vision, hearing, and motor skills were all excellent; all he needed to do was submit the physical exam form to the driving school and wait for the test schedule.

“Wanna go to the internet cafe and play a round of Pyramid?”

Wang Zihao wiped sweat from his forehead and grunted.

Late July, peak Sanfu heat; the afternoon sun blazed overhead, the air thick with scorching heat, the asphalt softened under the blaze, each step making the soles of his shoes stick slightly.

Heading to the internet cafe to play some games and sneak in some AC was definitely a teenager’s top choice.

“Boring.”

Chen Yansen waved his hand, let out a long sigh, and plopped down on the marble slab outside the driving school, looking listless.

“How about I treat you to pool? A new pool hall just opened at the south gate—AC running all day.”

Wang Zihao looked pained, clearly the pool hall charged high prices.

“Fine.”

Chen Yansen reluctantly agreed.

The samples sent from Yangcheng, though shipped via SF Express air freight, still took two or three days; the resale of MP3s and MP4s wouldn’t start for at least another three to five days.

So he had only two choices:

Either go home and drill driving test questions, or head to the pool hall and chill in the AC.

The two hopped on their bikes, chatting and laughing all the way, and soon passed through Tongfei Gate, turning left into a narrow alley.

“Bang!”

As they reached the door, a black eight ball flew straight at them.

“Fuck!”

Chen Yansen ducked his head instantly, dodging sharply; then came a loud “crash”—the ball slammed into the ground, shattering a piece of blue stone slab.

Wang Zihao, standing nearby, scowled, yanked aside the curtain, and roared inside: “Are you playing pool or trying to kill people?”

“Sorry, sorry!”

“Wait, it’s you?”

Two girls, seventeen or eighteen, gripped their cues and hurried over, bowing repeatedly to Wang Zihao in apology.

“Zhou Xue, Li Maimai, was that you two?”

Wang Zihao’s anger softened slightly when he recognized his classmates, though his tone remained sharp.

“Haozi, you okay?”

Another girl stepped out—white short-sleeve top, light blue jeans, hands in pockets, looking cool, her brow furrowed with concern.

“Boss, you’re here too?”

Wang Zihao scratched his head and grinned sheepishly, responding to Meng Jie; his attitude finally eased, then added: “I’m fine, but Chen Yansen almost got hit.”

“Chen Yansen, I’m so sorry!”

“It’s all Maimai’s fault—she hit too hard, we were terrified!”

Zhou Xue and Li Maimai apologized with guilty expressions, sizing up Chen Yansen to confirm he wasn’t hurt, then finally relaxed.

“Li Maimai, pool isn’t shot put—thankfully I dodged fast enough.”

Chen Yansen stepped forward, teasing with a smile.

He vaguely remembered this chubby girl—last autumn’s sports meet, she’d won first place in shot put for Class Eight.

“I’ll be careful next time.”

Li Maimai blushed, still shaken.

“Good thing you’re all right—since we ran into each other, let’s all play together.”

Meng Jie called them back into the pool hall.

A chilling breeze hit Chen Yansen’s face; he had little interest in pool, took the Fruitful Orange from Meng Jie, sipped slowly, and scanned the surroundings.

He was surprised to find that girls from over a decade ago dressed more boldly.

There were seven or eight girls in tank tops and hot pants!

“White?”

Meng Jie noticed Chen Yansen’s eyes locked on several pairs of pale legs, slipped beside him, and glared.

“Not just white—long too.”

Chen Yansen admitted openly, unashamed, still staring at the legs without turning his head.

“Chen Yansen, your face is thicker than a city wall.”

Meng Jie froze—she hadn’t expected such blunt honesty.

“Thanks, I’ll take that as a compliment.”

Chen Yansen took a small sip of his drink; he was eighteen, liked looking at pretty legs—what was wrong with that?

“Last time at KTV, you used me as a shield—Zhou Keyuan must hate me now. What are you going to do to make it up?”

Meng Jie lifted her foot and kicked his calf.

“I never meant to use you as a shield.”

Chen Yansen turned to look down at her.

Her skin was so pale—perhaps from the heat, faint blushes colored her cheeks, her nose high and straight, lips full and red, long lashes hidden beneath black-rimmed glasses, eyes bright and sharp.

Her petite, delicate frame was an added bonus.

“But a bit small.”

Chen Yansen spoke without restraint, murmuring his assessment.

Meng Jie followed his gaze and realized he’d stopped at her chest—she understood what “a bit small” truly meant.

“Chen Yansen, you bastard! I’ve always thought of you as a brother!”

Even with Meng Jie’s bold personality, Chen Yansen’s direct teasing pushed her over the edge—she swung her fists and shouted in protest.

“Is that so? Dare to play a game?”

Chen Yansen didn’t answer, a mischievous smile curling his lips.

“Who’s afraid? Bring it!”

Meng Jie stood tall, thrusting her chest forward.

“Give me your hand.”

Chen Yansen held his left palm upward, gesturing for her to place hers on it.

“You used this trick last time.”

Meng Jie glanced at his palm—long, strong fingers; for some reason, she swallowed involuntarily, though her tone remained dismissive.

“Simple game: stare into each other’s eyes. Whoever looks away first loses.”

Chen Yansen took her hand and explained the rules.

“You’re definitely going to lose.”

Meng Jie snorted, assumed her stance like she was glaring at a mortal enemy.

Chen Yansen said nothing, staring straight into her eyes.

The warmth from her palm gradually made Meng Jie restless; as time passed, his smiling face seemed etched into her mind.

Sharp brows, starry eyes, deep gaze, lips perfectly proportioned, smile faint yet present.

“Turns out Chen Yansen is really handsome!”

“His eyebrows are nice, his eyes are great, his nose is high and straight, his lips are perfectly shaped—perfect…”

As she stared at his face, she silently evaluated it, her fierce gaze slowly softening.

“What are they doing?”

“Haozi, Chen Yansen’s your best friend—tell us honestly, is he seriously trying to chase Meng Jie?”

“I don’t know.”

Wang Zihao and the other two stood nearby, whispering, their gossip flames burning fiercely.

After watching for a while and seeing the two still locked in a staring contest, they gave up and returned to their pool game.

“This game’s boring—I could stare at you all day.”

Ten minutes later, Meng Jie pouted.

“Oh? Then why’s your heart beating so fast?”

Chen Yansen smiled faintly, tapping her wrist—his fingers had been resting on her pulse all along.

In just a few minutes, her heartbeat had thundered like a drum.

“No, no, you’re mistaken.”

Meng Jie yanked her hand away forcefully, denying it loudly.

“Fine, brother’s fine too.”

Chen Yansen shrugged, sighed heavily, feigning disappointment.

Seeing him like that, Meng Jie felt a sudden pang of guilt, regret welling up inside.

“But brother, you smell so good—what soap do you use?”

Seeing she was silent, Chen Yansen leaned close to her ear and whispered softly.

Warm breath poured into her ear, a tingling, ticklish sensation that made her jump up instantly.

“Chen Yansen, you’re a pervert!”

The girl’s face flushed crimson, the color spreading to her ears, teeth clenched.

Brothers who made it this far, please drop a vote—thank you so much!

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(End of Chapter)