Chapter 21 – “He’s Different”
1402 Words
When Su Bai‑Zhou slipped away toward the Han‑fu (traditional‑clothing) club, Luo Ye’s feet started moving of their own accord. He found himself standing at the entrance of the Han‑fu club before he even realized it.
The senior recruiters from the Literature Club and the Magazine Club watched the scene and instantly wore looks of disappointment.
In front of Su Bai‑Zhou’s charm, all their efforts seemed futile—none of them could even compete.
The Han‑fu club had a secret weapon: Su Bai‑Zhou herself.
Just then another beautiful girl passed between the two senior recruiters.
It was the freshman “school flower,” Tang En‑Qi.
Both recruiters brightened, but before they could act, a group of hulking boys surged forward.
“Hello, I’m Ma Baoguo, president of the Martial‑Arts Association. I see a striking skeleton—are you interested in becoming my disciple?”
“Step aside. What does your association have to offer? I’m Wang Chaoyang, aka ‘Winter‑Swim Goose,’ and I’m recruiting for the swimming team. Come splash with us!”
“You’re all‑talk, no‑action. I’m Qiao Dan, and our basketball team needs a manager.”
“A manager? I’m Mei Xi, and our soccer club needs a ‘football‑beauty.’ If you join us, we’ll treat you like royalty.”
The freshman school flower’s “value” was so high that the boys’ enthusiasm matched, if not exceeded, that of the girls. Tang En‑Qi was literally a fragrant pastry in their eyes.
Even the long‑legged “loli” Liu Bing‑Xin, though not as stunning as Tang, was also swarmed.
At that moment a petite girl, barely over 1.5 m, walked by and stared in amazement at the chaos. She scanned left and right, finally spotting a familiar face. She ran over, slapped Luo Ye on the back, crossed her arms like a grown‑up, and scolded:
“Luo Ye, you didn’t answer my message!”
Luo Ye turned, his expression a mixture of pain and embarrassment. It was none other than Xu Xiao‑Jia, his fellow hometown friend—the chatty one.
“What are you doing here?” Luo Ye feigned surprise.
“I’m a freshman too. Why can’t I be here?” Xu Xiao‑Jia retorted indignantly.
She glanced around, puzzled.
“Where’s the class monitor?”
“You mean the coach? He’s gone to the Fitness‑Enthusiasts Association.”
“Cool, I’m going there too!”
She darted off toward the Fitness club, clearly interested in Li Hao‑Yang. But the “coach” was already tied up by the long‑legged Liu Bing‑Xin, so her chances of scoring a spot looked slim. Although cute, Xu Xiao‑Jia’s childlike stature and limited charisma made her a less likely target for the boys.
Luo Ye kept his eyes glued to the Han‑fu booth. Meanwhile, Su Bai‑Zhou had slipped into a nearby restroom to change into a full Han‑fu outfit.
When she emerged, she wore a flowing crimson robe that made her look like a deity descended from the heavens—ethereal, seductive, and page‑turning in a way that forced onlookers to admire from a distance, as if she’d stepped straight out of a painting.
Luo Ye stood silently at the side, watching.
The Han‑fu club’s performance began. Su Bai‑Zhou took the center spot (the “C‑position”), surrounded by four senior members, and they performed an elegant, graceful, ancient‑style dance. The choreography was refined and dignified, yet it was Su Bai‑Zhou’s presence that drew the crowd; without her, the audience would have been far smaller.
The audience, most of whom weren’t accustomed to the beauty of Han‑fu or the subtle mood of classical dance, scattered after the routine. The club’s vice‑president, who handled newcomer affairs, thanked Su Bai‑Zhou and ushered her away—she had other responsibilities.
At that moment, Qin Yu‑Wen arrived and walked straight toward Su Bai‑Zhou.
Seeing her, Luo Ye waved and called out:
“Senior Qin!”
Qin Yu‑Wen didn’t react immediately; Su Bai‑Zhou’s expression flickered.
“Huh? Did you call me?”
She glanced at Luo Ye, squinting as if trying to place him.
“You look familiar… Oh! I remember now! You’re the freshman whose boot‑camp performance was posted on the confession wall, right?”
Before she could finish, Su Bai‑Zhou grabbed Qin Yu‑Wen’s hand and hustled away.
Qin Yu‑Wen, still bewildered, kept walking while asking:
“What’s going on? Is the world ending?”
“Yes, the apocalypse is here. We have to run.”
Su Bai‑Zhou rarely jokes like this, but the urgency made her echo Qin’s words.
Luo Ye scratched his head, completely lost.
What had just happened? Why were the two senior girls hurrying off together?
After they left, Luo Ye felt a little freer. He stepped up to the Han‑fu recruitment table and asked the male vice‑president (who looked approachable) whether he could join.
“Whoa, a handsome little guy—of course you can,” the vice‑president said, but his tone was oddly effeminate, almost as if he were a flamboyant theatre student. The look he gave Luo Ye made the freshman recoil a step.
Yet Luo Ye remembered the “fairy senior” was part of this club. He swallowed his nervousness, squared his shoulders, and said:
“I’d like to sign up.”
The vice‑president warned:
“Junior, a word of advice—if you’re only here because of Bai‑Zhou, you don’t really need to join. She’s a third‑year and will graduate soon, so she’ll be leaving the club before long.”
Indeed, regardless of the student‑government or any club, Su Bai‑Zhou was on the brink of graduating and stepping away. When the freshman orientation ends, most leadership positions transfer to second‑year students.
Luo Ye, determined, replied:
“No, I genuinely like Han‑fu.”
“Is that so?”
The vice‑president smiled faintly, tapped his slender finger, wrote Luo Ye’s name on the sign‑up sheet, and added him to the club’s WeChat group, promising to notify him of the first meeting.
“Great,” Luo Ye said, feeling a small surge of triumph.
Meanwhile, Tang En‑Qi and Liu Bing‑Xin finally slipped away from the swarm of eager boys and made their way to the Han‑fu booth.
“It’s so beautiful here,” Tang En‑Qi murmured.
“Definitely, let’s check out the Han‑fu club,” Liu Bing‑Xin replied, clearly interested.
When they arrived, the same vice‑president who had just accepted Luo Ye was sipping tea, his expression unchanged. He raised an eyebrow at the two girls.
“Ladies, you’d like to join the Han‑fu club?”
“Yes, yes,” Tang En‑Qi nodded eagerly.
“We’re already at capacity. You’ll have to come back next year.”
Liu Bing‑Xin looked puzzled.
“Can second‑year students join?”
“No.”
“Then you’re just making it hard on us,” Liu Bing‑Xin fumed.
“Sorry, junior sisters. Because Su Bai‑Zhou is in our club, our roster filled up fast and we’ve exceeded our budget.”
Even though they were annoyed, the two girls left together, deciding to explore other clubs.
After they walked away, a girl approached the vice‑president with a curious look.
“Liu Jiang‑lai, I heard you said the club is full, but Luo Ye got an exception—how?”
The vice‑president smiled politely, recalling just how hurried Su Bai‑Zhou had left a moment earlier.
“Well… I think Su Bai‑Zhou has a special interest in him.”
He let that vague comment hang in the air, leaving the newcomer to wonder what “special interest” really meant.
- Writer
