Chen Shihua knew he did not like that appellation, but as time passed, he could not help but blurt it out, as if under some spell.
"Bro Pei," he changed the way he addressed him, nonchalantly adding, "Seriously though, so many pretty girls like you, what kind of girl do you like?"
The warm March sun splintered into spots. Such questions seldom arose in Pei Zhen's life. Recently, the increased number of confessions left him inexperienced in dealing with such matters, handling them less gracefully and adequately than needed. All he remembered was Xu Si saying to treat girls with courtesy, relying on years of social training to decline. Thus, his refusals seemed all the more aloof and pure, making it less sad for those on the receiving end, unable to quell the fondness in their hearts.
He drank water from his cup in sips, swallowing the odd dryness in his throat.
"I don't have one I like."
