Chapter 24 – The Han‑fu Tea Gathering
1350 Words
While he was fumbling with the costume, Luo Ye suddenly realized a startling fact.
He didn’t know how to put it on at all.
Just yesterday, a shop assistant had helped him try it on, and the only reason he’d joined the Han‑fu club was because the “fairy senior” was a member. He’d never actually worn traditional clothing before.
He felt embarrassed. How could he not know how to dress in the clothing of his ancestors? And the belt—was that even a belt?
Luo Ye opened the door to the apartment, swallowed his nervousness, and said, “Uh… senior?”
Before he could finish the sentence, Su Bai‑Zhou already knew what he was about to ask.
“Can’t put it on?” she asked.
“Yeah,” he admitted.
Seeing his hesitation, Su Bai‑Zhou stepped into the room.
Even though Luo Ye wasn’t a master at dressing the garment, he had at least managed to pull most of it on without exposing too much. The outfit was predominantly white, but it was covered in intricate blue patterns that made the blue stand out even more.
Su Bai‑Zhou extended her delicate, jade‑white fingers and began helping him fasten the robe. Every now and then her hand brushed his, sending a jolt through him. His heart hammered, his breathing grew shallow.
In truth, Su Bai‑Zhou was nervous, too—only she was far better at masking it, so Luo Ye couldn’t tell.
They worked in quiet silence, slowly getting the han‑fu onto his frame.
Luo Ye had even prepared a wig. Once he slipped it on, his whole demeanor shifted; he looked like a completely different person—a graceful scholar‑type young man, his skin clear, his eyes seeming to hold a galaxy of stars.
He reached into his bag, pulled out a folding fan, spun it once in place, then flicked it with a flourish, striking a pose. A faint smile crept onto his lips as he spoke in a gentle, formal tone.
“Miss Su, may I?” he said.
Su Bai‑Zhou blinked, then, keeping her expression neutral, replied, “Please.”
The moment the han‑fu was finally on, Luo Ye realized that speaking in everyday language felt out of place; he began acting more refined, his movements measured. Su Bai‑Zhou, by contrast, was naturally poised and didn’t need to try.
When they climbed back into the pink “Spicy‑Fish‑Head” hatchback, everything about their appearance seemed almost comical—two good‑looking, han‑fu‑clad strangers cramped in a tiny car.
As the engine sputtered to life, Luo Ye cleared his throat and said with a playful grin,
“All set!”
Su Bai‑Zhou looked at him, puzzled.
He laughed, “Sorry, I can’t help it—just a bit excited.”
The little car sped away and soon reached the venue of the Han‑fu club’s gathering. It was a tea‑party, not a smoky restaurant; everything was light and delicate, with an emphasis on subtle flavors.
The participants sat like scholars from a bygone era, sipping tea, reciting poetry, or enjoying mild, home‑brewed wine that was barely alcoholic—so even those with low tolerance could partake.
Liu Jiang‑Lai, a male member, was sitting on a low stool. Although he was a guy, his manners were more graceful than many of the female members, who gathered around him not as adoring fans but as comrades.
He cleared his throat. “Ladies, you’re so enthusiastic, I’ll start the roll call.”
He called the first name: “Su Bai‑Zhou.”
The name belonged to their club president, but she wasn’t there.
Liu Jiang‑Lai was used to her frequent absences—she was often busy with student‑government duties—so he simply skipped her and continued.
He kept calling names until finally he reached Luo Ye.
“Luo Ye?”
No one answered.
He called again. Still silence.
When the roll call ended, Liu Jiang‑Lai realized that, of everyone who had signed up for today’s gathering, only Su Bai‑Zhou and Luo Ye were missing.
His expression shifted from confusion to surprise, then to delight.
Could it be that the “ice‑queen” finally decided to show up?
A pleased grin spread across Liu Jiang‑Lai’s face. As a fellow “sister‑in‑spirit” to the girls, he envied his own gender for a moment—if he were a woman with Su Bai‑Zhou’s looks, he’d have a harem of admirers. Seeing her unrivaled beauty up close, his first reaction was not desire but awe.
A girl of her caliber not participating in any social events, never even talking to boys—yet now here, she seemed to have finally let a few people glimpse her world.
The tea party was about to start. The room filled with young men and women in han‑fu, pairing off and getting to know one another. Liu Jiang‑Lai watched, content.
Suddenly the chatter faded. The doors at the far end of the hall swung open, and two new figures entered.
One was a refined young man holding a folding fan, his demeanor gentle and courteous. The other was a woman in a stunning red han‑fu, looking like a newly‑wed noble from an ancient tale—her expression cool, her beauty striking.
Their style clashed with everyone else’s; it was as if they had stepped straight out of a different era. The modern world seemed to vanish around them.
A ripple of gasps ran through the crowd. Most of the attendees were first‑year students, the majority female, and none of them knew the third‑year campus icon Su Bai‑Zhou personally—only that they’d heard her name.
They only recognized that the two newcomers were exceptionally handsome and beautiful, so they were instantly drawn in.
Liu Jiang‑Lai stood, cleared his throat, and announced:
“These are our club president, Su Bai‑Zhou.”
When his voice hit her name, the room fell silent. Everyone realized they were finally seeing the campus legend in person. The computer‑science prodigy, the campus beauty they’d only known from rumors—here she was.
People began whispering: She’s supposed to be an ice‑queen, never at social events, never with any guys… why is she here now? And who was the gentleman beside her?
Luo Ye, noticing the curious glances, subtly shifted his stride so that he stayed just a step behind Su Bai‑Zhou, creating the illusion that he was merely accompanying her by chance, not a close acquaintance. He didn’t want to tarnish the pristine image she’d cultivated.
His tactic worked; the surrounding students bought it.
Naturally, some of the girls drifted over to Luo Ye, attracted by his good looks.
When the tea party officially began, trays of delicate pastries and steaming tea were served to each table. In the center of the hall, a traditional ensemble began playing a haunting melody on stringed instruments.
Su Bai‑Zhou took the seat beside Liu Jiang‑Lai. He sipped his tea, glanced at her with a faint smile, and said quietly, “President Su, you came with that freshman, right?”
She replied evenly, “He is Professor Gu’s younger brother.”
He continued, “Ah, Professor Gu… I see. Even though he’s Gu’s brother, given your personality, you wouldn’t befriend him just because of that connection, would you?”
He knew her well enough to understand that even if Professor Gu were her teacher, she wouldn’t treat his brother any differently. So if she chose to get to know Luo Ye, it had to be for something about him—not simply because of a family tie.
- Writer
