He sits in front of you with two plastic bowls of Zhajiangmian in his hands, and hands you one. A weird thought crosses your mind, and you can’t help but to blurt it out.

“Hey, Xiao Lu, this is the last time you’ll be having real Beijing Zhajiangmian.”

Luhan quirks an eyebrow. “I’ll be coming back to visit, you know that, right?”

“Yeah,” you grumble, snapping your chopsticks and stabbing them in your bowl to mix your noodles and sauce. “If you aren’t too busy flirting with girls and becoming a hallyu idol at Yonsei University.”

--two-shot--

song of the day