“You know I like Kenyan coffee?” Ze Yu seemed a bit surprised but quickly nodded in thanks.

  “Of course I know. When you come alone, you only ever order a cup of Kenya coffee, maybe with a small piece of cake at most. It’d be hard not to remember,” I said, trying my best to smile gently and gracefully.

  Ze Yu picked up the mug and smiled as he sipped the Kenya coffee I had brewed myself.

  “You're really observant,” Ze Yu said.

  “Is that a compliment or are you teasing me?” I replied with a smile.

  “Let’s call it an icebreaker—a starting point for getting to know each other,” Ze Yu said with a calm and composed smile.

  He really is a skilled communicator—no wonder he's the president of the debate club.

  “So, with your sharp observation skills, do you know why I always sit in the corner?”

  Ze Yu tossed out a simple question.

  I pointed at the floor, at the transformer for his ptop, and smiled. Ze Yu smiled too.

  Sometimes he would stay in the café for two or three hours, his fingers dancing across the keyboard like he was pying the piano. He always sat in the corner because there was an outlet beneath the seat, providing unlimited power to keep his “finger dance” going.

  “You really are perceptive,” Ze Yu said approvingly.

  “No, your question doesn’t require someone perceptive to figure out,” I shook my head.

  “Oh?” Ze Yu responded.

  “You just have to pay a bit of attention to notice,” I said.

  “Is that so? You've been paying close attention to me?” Ze Yu smiled.

  My face probably turned red—I could feel it from the warmth of my palms.

  “How rude of me,” I suddenly became very proper.

  “My fellow debater, I see nothing rude about you,” he said in a serious tone. “In a society driven by commercial logic, it’s actually quite pleasant to not just be treated as a random customer at a coffee shop.”

  “I think I understand what you mean,” I said, recalling Marcuse, the master of the Frankfurt School, and his One-Dimensional Man, which was one of our extracurricur readings for the Three Principles of the People css.

  “So, is it my turn to treat you to a cup of coffee? Tea? Or just pin hot water?” he asked with a smile—one that was both serious and sincere.

  “I'm really sorry about that day. I′d just started working and didn′t know how to make anything, so all I could offer you was tasteless hot water,” I stuck out my tongue. “Don’t hold a grudge over that!”

  “I'm not holding a grudge at all. Even hot water has a fvor—its warmth is its fvor,” he said with a thankful nod. “Which is why I insist on treating you to something this time.”

  “Since when is it reasonable for a customer to treat a staff member to a drink?” I said, finding the whole thing a bit absurd.

  So he didn′t insist, just looked at me. Even though he didn′t say anything more, I didn′t feel awkward.

  “And then?” Ze Yu suddenly burst out ughing.

  “Huh?” I was confused.

  “What made you decide to treat me to this coffee?” he asked with a smile.

  “If you hadn’t asked, I might’ve completely forgotten,” I said, shocked at my own forgetfulness.

  “Then I take back what I said—you’re not a perceptive person after all,” he said, taking another sip of coffee.

  “You're right, I'm not,” I admitted.

  “So, then?” he repeated.

  “Oh, right.” I was startled again, and then I stood up.

  “I'm sorry, I really shouldn't meddle, but I just can't understand how you're so composed and tolerant with a girlfriend like that. Her demands are so inconsiderate.”

  I csped my hands together apologetically and said, “I′m just curious, that′s all. I don’t mean anything else by it.”

  “You were eavesdropping on our conversation?” Ze Yu raised his eyebrows, already knowing the answer.

  I stuck out my tongue, hoping it looked cute—I had practiced this expression for a long time.

  “Actually, it′s not really about tolerating. I just know how to adapt a little,” Ze Yu said with a sly smile.

  He turned his ptop around to show me the screen. On it were a few lines of text: `I'm sorry, really sorry for attending that boring debate competition. But deep down, I'm torn and reluctant to part with you.′

  It turned out Ze Yu was drafting a letter on his ptop, pnning to fill in different names by hand ter and send it out. So that's how it was.

  “You're so crafty,” I said, thinking it wasn't a bad method at all.

  “It’s not that. It's just that I've been with Xiao Hui for over a year now, so I've gotten pretty good at adapting,” Ze Yu tapped his head and turned the ptop back around with a wry smile. “But I think I′ll still end up getting scolded terribly in the end. This is just a temporary way to get by, but it'll buy me a few peaceful days, and that's good enough for me.”

  I nodded. His girlfriend would definitely throw a huge fit once she found out he hadn't personally written the apology letter.

  “Thank you for the coffee. I really can’t stand the strong milk fvor in ttes,” Ze Yu said, taking a sip.

  “Then I′ll make sure to use less milk in your tte next time,” I said, smiling as I stood up.

  I turned around, about to head back behind the counter.

  “Wait.”

  Ze Yu's voice suddenly sounded a little shy.

  I turned back around, the pte in my hands trembling slightly.

  “I′d like to remember the name of the girl who treated me to a cup of coffee, so I won′t have to call her ‘miss’ next time,” Ze Yu said, his eyes narrowing slightly.

  It was only when he was really happy that his big eyes would narrow into a line.

  “This girl’s name is Si Ying. ‘Si’ as in ‘longing’ and ‘Ying’ as in ‘firefly,’” I said nervously.

  I was so nervous that I forgot to smile.

  This was our second conversation, and although love hadn't started yet, it felt like it was just beginning.

  (T/N: 思 (sī) – "To think," "to long for," or "thoughtful"; 萤 (yíng) – "Firefly," symbolizing light, hope, and fleeting beauty; 思萤 could poetically mean "longing fireflies" or "thoughtful like a firefly," representing nostalgia, longing, or a delicate yet bright personality.)