Looking at the blonde boy who seemed to bring sunlight into the room, Emon froze for a moment.

"Moen... Young Master?"

"What's wrong? Surprised to see me? Or perhaps..."

Moen thought for a second before jokingly saying:

"Complaining that I haven't visited you for so long?"

"..."

"Forgive me, alright? I haven't had the time this past month. Besides, I felt it might've been inappropriate to visit you before the results came out."

Moen walked closer and placed the fruits he brought onto the nearby table.

"Although I would love to peel an apple for you, I feel that'd make it seem way too... you know, gay. So you'll have to manage on your own."

"..."

"Hm? Why are you keeping your head down and staying silent?"

Moen sat down in a chair and, seeing Emon still looking downward in silence, teased him:

"Don’t tell me you’re so touched you’re about to cry. Sure, I’m devilishly handsome, but you’d better not fall in love with me. We’re strictly friends."

"Moen... Young Master..." Emon suddenly spoke, his voice low and trembling, tinged with a sob.

"Hm?"

"Why did you come to see me?"

"Why? Isn’t it normal to visit a friend?"

"But I..." Emon lifted his head abruptly, and his eyes brimmed with regret and remorse.

"But I…"

"Alright."

Moen, as if knowing what Aimon was about to say, reached out and patted his shoulder, cutting him off.

"I don’t care about that sort of thing. It wasn’t your intention, was it?"

With that, Moen smiled again and said:

"I don’t have much time to visit, so let’s skip these heavy topics."

"..."

Emon stared blankly at the golden-haired boy in front of him, who seemed identical to his memories and yet entirely different. Suddenly, he felt the remorse and guilt accumulated over the past month melt away under the warmth of Moen's gem-like, sapphire eyes—like snow under sunlight.

"Alright..."

...

"How’s the food?"

"It’s good."

"And your accommodations?"

"Not bad."

"And the nurses? Are they pretty?"

"… Pretty."

"And your family?"

"They wrote to me, saying they misunderstood me. We've reconciled, and they even made me the first heir to make amends."

"Families ultimately prioritize interests. Don’t rely on them too much—you’ve got to stand on your own feet."

"I know."

As the afternoon sunlight poured in, the two chatted, drifting between topics casually.

Until the doctor, looking displeased, walked into the room and pointed at the clock for Moen.

"Ha-ha, I’d better go, then."

Realizing he had lost track of time, Moen chuckled awkwardly and made his way out.

"So, goodbye, Emon."

"Alright."

Emon nodded, his expression a mixture of gratitude and unease.

It wasn't until Moen was about to leave the room that Emon suddenly gathered his courage and called out:

"Goodbye, Moen."

Moen didn’t turn back, only paused slightly before his steps became even lighter.

...

...

"What should I do next?"

After leaving the hospital room, Moen stretched lazily, his mood bright. He glanced up at the gloomy sky.

"Seems like it’s going to rain."

Not great. Tomorrow was the campus open day. The day after was his scheduled “thank-you” date with senior. If it rained for too long, things wouldn’t go well.

"Should I hire a grand mage to dispel the rain?"

Moen rubbed his chin, seriously considering the idea. Technically, it was quite doable; dispelling rain was something any mage above ritual-grade could accomplish.

But this was Belland, the imperial capital. Doing something like disrupting the weather could easily land him an accusation of threatening the city’s stability. Even as the son of a duke, the rules here weren’t something he could flout.

"Forget about it. We’ll deal with it when it comes."

Moen quickly let it go, heading toward his dormitory. After all, time was tight for the upcoming date—he needed to start planning in advance.

"Moen?"

Just as he took a couple of steps, a familiar voice called out to him.

"It’s Sari?"

Moen turned back toward the direction of the voice. Sure enough, out of the corner of his eye appeared the familiar twin braids and oversized black-rimmed glasses.

Sari Flander—the girl who had once had a small misunderstanding with him.

"Fancy meeting you here! You also came..."

Moen almost involuntarily added the word “hospital” but managed to swallow it at the last second.

Saying “you also came to the hospital” wasn’t exactly the kind of thing one could say without getting hit.

"Are you looking for me?" Moen blinked and asked with a smile.

"Oh, no, no—not really. I just happened to see you by chance."

Sari adjusted her oversized glasses, her cheeks slightly flushed.

"Actually, I just wanted to ask you—how was the cake I made last time, Moen?"

"The cake? What cake…"

Moen instinctively responded, and then his expression froze.

Cake!

The cake Sari had given him!

During his fight with Emon, he had thrown it all away. He hadn’t eaten a single bite!

"Ah? The cake I gave you last time?"

Sari tilted her head in confusion and asked, "Did Moen not eat it?"

"I ate it! I ate every piece!"

Moen’s voice rose.

"I ate it all—didn’t leave a single bite!"

He couldn’t risk saying he had thrown it away. If word got out, rumors about him playing with a young girl’s sincere gift would spread through the academy by morning. And there’d be no way to refute it.

"Really?"

Sari gave a shy smile, seemingly convinced.

"So, Moen, how was the cake?"

"Extremely delicious!"

"Huh? That was quick."

Scratching her cheek, Sari mumbled pensively:

"Honestly, I’d really prefer a detailed breakdown—like the texture and sweetness—so I can get more precise feedback..."

"This is what came after a careful thought!"

Staring into Sari's eyes, Moen said sincerely:

"Your cake was absolutely flawless!"

That was the truth since Moen couldn’t point out any flaws at all.

"Re...Really?"

Facing Moen’s earnest praise, Sari’s cheeks turned bright red, and Moen could almost see wisps of steam rising from the top of her head.

"Moen, um… no matter how you put it… isn’t that a bit much?"

"No, it’s Ms. Sari you who underestimates yourself. Believe in your cakes! They’re the best!"

"You think so?"

Under Moen's cascade of compliments, Sari became dazed, her speech hesitant and unsure.

Seeing her state, Moen decided to slip away quickly. Continuing the conversation risked her discovering the truth, which would be bad news for him.

"Anything else, Sari? If not, I..."

"I do have one more thing!"

"Huh?"

Her tone shifted, and her hands subconsciously clutched the hem of her skirt nervously. Whatever it was, it seemed hard for her to say.

After a long pause, she finally sputtered out:

"In fact... after thinking it over, I realized that using something as cheap as a cake to apologize might’ve been inappropriate. For someone of your status, it didn’t seem sincere enough."

"So… I thought of something more meaningful. So, I was wondering… Moen, are you free during the open day?"