Silently, December arrived. Autumn was fading into winter, and a faint chill hung in the air.
Jin Jing and Lu Yu turned their gazes to Qiu Yi. A withered yellow leaf drifted down from a tree, landing gently on the windowsill.
"Ye Wen... she had a bit of a shock after that kidnapping incident last time," Qiu Yi said, pushing himself up from the floor. He straightened his chair meticulously, then glanced at Ye Wen. "It left her with some nerve damage. She can't speak or naturally show expressions..." He paused. "Though, of course, everything else functions normally."
Noticing Jin Jing and Lu Yu looking at her again, Ye Wen lifted her notepad: [*Don’t worry.*]
"Will... will she get better?"
"The doctor said it should be temporary. It’ll improve with time," Qiu Yi replied on Ye Wen’s behalf.
Ye Wen strained to lift the corners of her mouth just slightly—a faint, almost imperceptible upturn.
"See? She can make small expressions now. At first, her face was completely blank," Qiu Yi pointed out, gesturing toward Ye Wen’s lips.
"Tsk, tsk. Qiu Yi~ You’re *sooo* observant~" Lu Yu chuckled, her tone dripping with playful sarcasm.
Qiu Yi’s face flushed crimson instantly.
The bell for first period rang, yet students showed no sign of settling down. Instead, they drifted out of the classroom in twos and threes.
[*First period is PE???*] Ye Wen scribbled large question marks on her notepad, conveying her confusion.
"Today’s the flea market!" Jin Jing beamed, taking Ye Wen’s small hand resting on the desk. "Let’s go browse!"
Ye Wen nodded. Lu Yu quickly grabbed Ye Wen’s other hand and announced loudly, "Ye Wen’s mine too!"
Poor Qiu Yi was left to blend back into the crowd of boys.
Golden fallen leaves piled in the corners of the playground. Makeshift stalls—tables pushed together—covered the field. Some were run by classes, others by individual students, selling all manner of oddities: bizarre, eclectic, utterly random.
Someone even sold used pen refills, claiming they’d "prove to parents they’d been studying hard."
Most stalls offered old items, well-preserved, many long out of print. Ye Wen spotted a limited-edition Gundam model released last year. Its parts were unpacked but untouched—the original owner had lost patience assembling it. Perfect for today’s market.
[*How much?*] Ye Wen held up her pre-prepared notepad.
"This?" The stall owner, a senior girl, eyed the Gundam model in Ye Wen’s hands. Puzzled why a girl would want a robot toy, she still quoted a price. "Fifty. But for you? Twenty. It’s just loose parts anyway. Worthless."
[*Are you sure?*] Ye Wen hastily scribbled a new note, thrown off by the unexpected discount.
"No problem at all! I set all the prices here. They only suggested numbers," the girl waved dismissively, striking a magnanimous pose.
Ye Wen nodded, pulled out her wallet without hesitation, and handed over a green fifty-yuan note.
The girl returned thirty yuan in change. Ye Wen hesitated for a second, took the money, then left with the Gundam box.
"Seriously, what’s fun about this thing..." Lu Yu shook the box lightly. Parts rattled inside. "So many pieces. Just looking at them gives me a headache..."
"Everyone has different hobbies," Jin Jing smiled.
Ye Wen cradled the box protectively against her chest like a mother guarding her cub.
"Tch. No one’s stealing it from you..." Lu Yu rolled her eyes.
Ye Wen shook her head, hugging the box tighter. Though her face remained still, her eyes sparkled with unmistakable excitement.
The flea market felt more like a vintage bazaar. Most goods were cheap. Lu Yu even found an "ivory" comb for five yuan—though Ye Wen doubted its authenticity.
Of course, it wasn’t just old goods. Food stalls dotted the field: fresh sushi, squeezed-to-order juice... But the most crowded spot was a tiny stall tucked in the playground corner, surrounded by a thick ring of students.
Pushing closer, the trio saw most were just gawking. The stall owner—a shy first-year girl—flushed under the attention.
"Boss, what’s this?" someone called.
"Clay... clay figurines..." the girl murmured, flustered.
"How much each?" a loud boy shouted.
She pointed to a small sign propped beside her:
*Pre-made: 30 yuan*
*Custom-made: 50 yuan*
"So expensive! Are they even good?"
"Better refund us if it’s ugly!"
Boys jeered. The girl’s head dipped so low it nearly touched her thighs.
Ye Wen nudged Jin Jing’s arm, then pointed at the stall. Understanding, Jin Jing led Ye Wen through the crowd while Lu Yu yelled behind them, "Make way! We’re checking it out!"
The stall had two chairs: one for the girl, one opposite her table.
[*Three custom figurines. One of each of us.*] Ye Wen wrote quickly on her notepad and handed it over.
The girl nodded. She didn’t question Ye Wen’s silence. Instead, she transformed—professional focus melting away her shyness the moment she touched the clay.
"Chibi-style or realistic?" she asked.
Ye Wen tilted her head, thinking, then raised her notepad: [*Realistic.*]
"Got it. Please sit still. I’ll start right away." Relief washed over the girl—real customers were a lifeline. Her world narrowed to Ye Wen and the clay in her hands.
She studied Ye Wen’s features intently, as if memorizing every line. Then her fingers flew: first shaping a rough outline—Ye Wen standing in the wind—then refining details. She’d sculpt a few strokes, glance up at Ye Wen, sculpt again. Ye Wen’s face stayed blank, but her eyes darted nervously. Being stared at so intently by this cute girl? Even a girl would feel awkward—let alone Ye Wen, who thought like a boy.
The crowd swelled. Boys mostly watched Ye Wen and Jin Jing; girls were curious. But as minutes passed, all eyes locked onto the girl’s hands. A tiny clay figure emerged rapidly.
Though unfinished, details were startlingly clear: Ye Wen’s hands tucked into her sleeves, only half her fingers visible.
Ye Wen’s gaze flicked to the name tag pinned on the girl’s chest. It read a lovely name—
Tian Yuyao.
...
