“Xiao Gege¹小哥哥 (xiǎo gēge) – lit. little older brother; a friendly, slightly flirtatious term young women often use to address attractive male strangers. It doesn’t imply an actual family relationship., are these two seats yours?”

Qin Yu, who had been looking down at his phone, suddenly raised his head when he heard a female voice nearby.

Two girls holding bags of popcorn were pointing at Xie Cen’s empty seat and the one next to it.

Qin Yu understood immediately. After all, this was the prime viewing area – everyone wanted to sit here. He just wasn’t sure if Xie Cen would agree.

But it seemed that wasn’t the real reason they had come over.

“You see, our seats are in the row behind you, but we’re too short to see well from there. Could we maybe switch seats?” The girl in front asked apologetically, giving Qin Yu a pleading look.

Qin Yu didn’t care much about movies or seating and was about to agree when Xie Cen suddenly appeared on his left, holding a box of popcorn. He smoothly interrupted their conversation.

“I’m sorry, but these seats are taken,” Xie Cen said with an uncharacteristically polite smile, his true nature hidden beneath his gentlemanly facade.

Qin Yu turned to look at him. Xie Cen was now standing, looking down at Qin Yu seated below, his gaze shifting from the two girls to Qin Yu.

The once nearly empty theater was now filling up rapidly. What had started as a handful of moviegoers was turning into a packed house.

Qin Yu wondered irrelevantly how good this movie must be to draw such a crowd.

Seeing the situation, the two girls realized a seat swap was out of the question.

Looking disappointed, they were about to leave when Qin Yu couldn’t help but speak up.

“You can have our seats. We’ll switch with you.” To Qin Yu, who had little appreciation for movies, it seemed a waste for him to occupy the best seats. He’d probably fall asleep before the opening credits finished rolling.

As for Xie Cen, Qin Yu sensed his mind wasn’t on the movie at all. He clearly had other motives for being here and likely wouldn’t care about the plot either.

Hearing Qin Yu’s offer, the girls’ faces lit up with delight.

“Let’s exchange tickets now,” Qin Yu said, standing up and lightly tugging at Xie Cen’s free hand.

“Thank you so much! Just a moment, let me get our tickets,” one of the girls said excitedly, fumbling in her pocket.

“We just picked them up. Our seats are in row 9, seats 8 and 9, right behind you,” she helpfully explained, saving Qin Yu the trouble of reading the tickets.

Qin Yu took the tickets with one hand and instinctively turned left to leave, only to find Xie Cen still standing there.

They awkwardly faced each other.

“Haha, Cen-ge, mind moving forward?” Qin Yu’s use of “Cen-ge” was the biggest concession he’d made so far.

“Come on, I’ll treat you to a soda. Popcorn alone is too dry for a movie,” Qin Yu said casually, turning Xie Cen around and gently pushing him out with his elbow.

“What’s wrong? Still upset?” Qin Yu had actually bought two sodas and noticed Xie Cen sitting silently in his seat, thinking the big guy might be sulking.

“No, I just didn’t expect you to be so… forward,” Xie Cen said seriously. Forward? Was he referring to that playful tug on his hand earlier? How was that being forward? Was this guy being sarcastic, or just inexperienced?

Qin Yu handed the soda to Xie Cen, who took it without hesitation.

With a few minutes left before the movie started, Qin Yu decided to seize the opportunity.

“Let’s add each other on WeChat,” Qin Yu suggested, pretending to be busy while actually having nothing to do.

“Sure.” Xie Cen seemed prepared, immediately presenting his QR code. Qin Yu quickly extended his arm to scan it.

“Huh? When did you change your profile picture?” After adding Xie Cen as a friend, Qin Yu opened his profile. Suddenly, the image flickered, changing from a cool-looking silhouette to an adorable kitten.

In the picture, a long-fingered hand was gently stroking the kitten’s belly.

The scene looked oddly familiar. Then it hit him – this was the exact photo Qin Yu had sent Xie Cen a few days ago. He had taken it himself; the copyright belonged to him.

Heh, so this guy wasn’t just all talk after all.

“What happened to your previous profile picture?” Qin Yu had a soft spot for that image. After all, it had been his first impression of Xie Cen.

“Didn’t like it, so I changed it. I prefer this one now,” Xie Cen replied, his hidden passion coming through as a direct statement.

Is that so? Qin Yu quite liked the previous one, but given the uncertain nature of their relationship, he decided to keep that thought to himself.

The theater suddenly went dark, and Qin Yu felt it was best not to say more.

They absolutely must kiss today.

TL Notes

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  小哥哥 (xiǎo gēge) – lit. little older brother; a friendly, slightly flirtatious term young women often use to address attractive male strangers. It doesn’t imply an actual family relationship.