...

Two green-spring girls laughed and tussled, hair fluttering like swallows in sunbeams shot through high windows. Bright smiles bloomed, and every bump revealed a flash of soft, porcelain skin. Suzhiayao held the spotlight like a lotus in clear water, making the whole moment blaze.

Their radiance hooked more than boys riding the waves of puberty. It snagged a short-haired girl hugging a basketball off to the side.

“Is that her?” In light-blue gym shorts, long legs like willow branches stretching from the hems, Mu Xiaowei leaned against the side of the hoop. She sat cross-legged with the ball in her lap, eyes stealing glances past the court toward the two girls.

To be precise—toward Suzhiayao.

Mu Xiaowei didn’t know Suzhiayao personally, but fame rings out like a bell in an empty valley. Even the ignorant hear it.

Top grades, the kind teachers favor like spring rain. Exams, always top-three in the whole year. Looks that turn heads—waist-length silk-black hair, fox-sleek phoenix eyes, and a trail of followers like starlings in her wake. A natural elegance holds her beauty steady, like moonlight that’s bright but never vulgar. Piano comes easy as water; sports too, with trophy after trophy stacking up through three years of high school. A girl like that is so complete it kills envy at the root.

“If the mystery girl in Class One is real, then it’s a hundred percent—Suzhiayao.” Xiaowei’s twin pupils mirrored that radiant figure, so bright she had to squint. She sighed, like wind slipping through reeds. “Too hard.”

“What’s too hard?”

The voice at her side landed like a pebble in a pond, and Mu Xiaowei jolted. She turned to find Zhaomingming—even in P.E., she wore her signature jacket and weary dark circles, always like late autumn that never quite wakes.

“When did you show up?”

“Just now,” came the familiar soft reply, like a cat brushing past. Then, curious, “So, what’s too hard?”

For reasons she kept tucked like a note under a pillow, Mu Xiaowei didn’t spill Yexiaobai’s secret. Instead she asked, “Mingming. Chasing Suzhiayao—has to be brutal, right?”

Zhaomingming sank down beside her, quiet as dusk. “Huh? Why the sudden question?”

“No reason. It just bubbled up.” Xiaowei tipped her head back toward the high gym ceiling like staring at sky, raised the ball with both hands. “Look at her—so pretty, and that figure? She’s practically decathlon-grade. She’s like the moon at the edge of heaven—beautiful, dazzling, perfect, and just out of reach.”

Facing someone that lovely, Xiaowei’s voice and face held no envy, only a clear, simple praise for something good, like looking at fresh snow.

Zhaomingming’s heart gave a small ripple. She looked at Xiaowei—and just then a draft slipped in from the gym doors, tilting the short hair into a light dance. Beneath lashes that trembled like moth wings, her eyes were clear amber, the kind that traps ancient sunlight. Warmth pooled there, easy and soothing, like morning on skin.

Holding her breath, Zhaomingming let out the slightest sigh, a leaf-fall of sound. “Speaking of dazzling—little sun that you are, you outshine her.”

“Hm? Mingming, what did you say?”

“Nothing.” She shook her head, gaze drifting back to Suzhiayao like a boat to shore. “Yeah. A woman that perfect.”

“Right? So tough. Failing to catch up is normal.” Whatever thought flitted through her mind, Xiaowei’s face curled with a hint of impish schadenfreude. She slapped a hand over her mouth fast, hiding the smile like a child hiding sweets.

“Not always.” Watching the waist-length hair sway like a river, Zhaomingming’s eyes held a strange glint. Half to herself, half to someone else, she murmured, “Sometimes the more ‘flawless’ it looks, the more ‘riddled with cracks’ it is.”

...

“I’m saying—”

“Don’t talk. I’m close.”

“Uh—”

“Easy. Three locks left.”

In a shadowed corner on the second floor of the gym, two boys whispered like spies meeting under streetlamps.

Yexiaobai watched Li Hang with helpless eyes. Li Hang was wrestling a locked iron box like a fisherman playing a stubborn catch.

“Did you have to slap seven locks on a box?” Yexiaobai’s tone drooped like a wilted leaf.

“What do you think? You know the vault holding Coca-Cola’s formula uses three keys—only three people present can open it?” Li Hang tugged at the final lock, face grave as winter stone. “Data is money. Original, first-hand data is hard currency in the Organization. The higher a beauty’s rank, the pricier her data. And No. 2 Suzhiayao—her data on the Organization’s site is priced higher than top-ranked single-subject study notes! If Zhaomingming weren’t so mysterious—making her data tough to obtain and raising its value—I wouldn’t Trade with you.”

Yexiaobai stared, mouth open like a door in a storm.

What kind of Organization is this? A website, an auction function, a market of classmate intel—like a bazaar at midnight! He suddenly felt his first two years at Qingya High were a blank scroll. He’d never even heard of this.

Click.

With a crisp, pleasing sound like a pebble striking ice, the box finally opened.

As the lid lifted, light burst from inside the dark like dawn over mountains.

Yexiaobai gaped. For a split second he thought it held a top-tier dish from an anime, the kind that glows. He blinked, then saw the ring of tiny bulbs tucked inside.

Treating it like a treasure hauled from deep sea, Li Hang lifted out a black notebook. On its cover, three white fluorescent characters spelled “Suzhiayao.” He turned to Yexiaobai, solemn as a priest. “We Traded, so it’s yours. But don’t copy it. Flood the market and it loses value. Treat the data well. Data helps, but it won’t make Suzhiayao fall for you. That’s on you.”

“Uh, thanks for the sermon. But I don’t even want Suzhiayao’s data,” Yexiaobai said, wincing like swallowing bitter tea.

“Nonsense! Weren’t you hunting a Class One girl with hair to her waist?” Li Hang’s eyes widened like lanterns.

“Yes—yeah.”

“And you can’t name her. In Class One, the only girl with hair to her waist is Suzhiayao.” Li Hang nudged his glasses, logic neat as stacked books. “By your description, the seat you saw—should be Suzhiayao’s.”

“But—”

“No buts! Or are you planning a double-cross?” Li Hang stepped back, wary as a cat. “Kid, pull that, and beware the Organization’s rules.”

Yexiaobai rolled his eyes like marbles. “I won’t even start on your rules. I really don’t want Suzhiayao’s data, I—”

“Wait!” Li Hang yanked him deeper into shadow, sudden as a hawk’s dive. “Someone’s coming! I can smell it.”

Yexiaobai stared, speechless. In his head: Are you a dog?

“This scent.” Li Hang’s face curdled with disgust, like tasting sour plum. “It’s Yao Yuelu, that pest. Tch. Trouble. Did she lock on?”

“Who?”

“Someone the Organization should purge like weeds. She keeps blocking me from getting Suzhiayao’s data. Pack up! No good—this spot’s outside the line-of-sight dead zone. Her stride frequency—damn, it sped up. She sensed me—no time—”

He shoved the notebook into Yexiaobai’s arms, gripped his shoulders with the weight of thunder. “Comrade! The agreed Trade cannot be revoked! I’m trusting you once! After the Trade, you’re officially in the Organization. Don’t lose the big for the small! The Organization won’t spare traitors!”

Before Yexiaobai could answer, Li Hang scooped the tools in three swift motions. He flicked his backpack up with his toe like kicking a ball, caught it to his chest, then executed a tactical side-roll out of the corner, clean as a swallow cutting air.

Rolling, he laughed, wild as a fox. “Yao Yuelu! Catch me if you dare!”

“You scumbag, Hang! No wonder I felt something slimy staring this way! It’s you again! You never learn! Today I’ll make you pick up soap in the showers!”

Whoosh—wind sliced past Yexiaobai’s face. A girl’s shout cracked the air, footsteps drummed like rain, then distant screams trailed away like a siren fading down the road.

It all unfolded in a flash of lightning and flint. Yexiaobai stood there, blindsided, like a rook caught in a sudden gambit. It felt like he’d just watched a melodramatic sacrifice.

He sighed, a leaf falling inside. He looked at the notebook in his arms. In the dark, the fluorescent “Suzhiayao” shimmered like a moon mark. “Guess I’ll keep it,” he murmured. He was still a teenage boy. Even if his target wasn’t Suzhiayao, it was hard not to be moved by a campus legend carved like jade.

At worst, it’s gossip.

Thinking that, Yexiaobai’s face eased into a calm smile. He lifted his head.

And met the eyes of a girl with waist-length hair tied into a long ponytail, gaze clear as a mountain lake.

Suzhiayao.

In an instant, Yexiaobai’s smile shattered like thin ice. In his arms, the cover’s glowing “Suzhiayao” flared like a signal fire.