The sky hung heavy and gray that day.

Thick clouds smothered Shangjing City, blocking every ray of light. Yet no rain threatened to fall. An uneasy feeling coiled deep in my gut.

As usual, I pedaled my little bike to Xiaodie’s apartment complex early.

“Morning, Yi Yao!”

I nearly fell off my seat. Today, Huang Yingdie wore Shangjing City’s brand-new school uniform: a collared shirt, plaid skirt, knee-high socks. Her long hair was neatly tied in a small ponytail. If not for her signature grin, I’d have sworn I’d found the wrong person.

“What’s this…”

I pushed my bike slowly toward her. “Did something hit your head last night?”

This uniform had just launched with Shangjing’s recent education reforms. Barely any students owned it yet—mostly boys. After all, Shangjing girls’ uniforms had never included skirts before. Minds hadn’t caught up.

“You’re the one who got hit!”

Just as expected, the young lady’s face flushed crimson. She pouted, plopping onto the bike’s rear seat. Then she dropped a bombshell: “I’m transferring to your school today. No need to take me to Yucai Middle anymore.”

“What?”

I frowned. “Yucai’s Shangjing’s top school. Why leave?”

Huang Yingdie turned her face away. “My dad saw your monthly exam scores. He wants you to tutor me.”

“Is your dad crazy?”

“I think so too.”

“It’s settled?”

“Mhm. Papers were done yesterday.”

She pulled a student ID from her skirt pocket—ours. “Adults’ logic is beyond us,” she sighed. “I’ve no friends there anyway. Same difference.”

“Wait… this is too sudden!”

I was baffled. “We’ve known each other less than a month!”

“This isn’t a marriage proposal. What’s months got to do with transferring?” She poked my waist impatiently. “If you can pull strings to send me back, do it. If not, pedal. I’ve forms to fill with your homeroom teacher.”

What a mess…

I cycled carefully through traffic, glancing back. “So you’ll be in my class?”

“Barring surprises, yes.”

“You’ll take the high school entrance exam at our school?”

“Yep. Problem?”

“Nope.”

“…”

Another event had surfaced—one that could reshape my life, Class 11’s, and someone else’s.

I didn’t know Huang Yingdie’s fate in this world. In my past life, she’d vanished by now. But her father Huang Zhiqiang’s web of connections would surely tremble from this move. It might even alter his future.

Transferring schools in Shangjing required connections—backdoor deals. Especially this close to exams. Only immense influence could swing it.

But pulling such strings demanded payment. Money. Or favors.

Huang Yingdie and her father had already made headlines repeatedly. In this sensitive time, abusing power to transfer his daughter was dangerously foolish.

“Our class has a new student today.”

During morning reading, Huang Yingdie entered behind our homeroom teacher.

The noisy classroom fell dead silent.

“She’s transferring from Yucai Middle due to family reasons. She’s quite shy. I won’t tolerate anyone bullying her.”

Xiaodie, in her short skirt and black knee-highs, became the center of every gaze.

Her figure was flawless. Lean legs from constant training, not an ounce of extra flesh. Snowy skin met the hem of her skirt in a perfect expanse of bare thigh. She looked delicate, almost fragile—especially with that flushed, bashful face…

Wait. Bashful?

“Introduce yourself.”

The teacher smiled at the girl on stage—a smile he never gave the rest of us.

“I… I’m Huang Yingdie…” Her head stayed bowed. “Shadow… as in shadow. Die… as in butterfly…”

“P-please take care of me.”

This timid girl was unrecognizable from the fierce, expressionless fighter at the taekwondo gym.

“Alright, everyone knows her now. Huang Yingdie’s grades might need work…” He paused. “Sit beside Yi Yao. Her desk partner just withdrew. Two girls can help each other.”

Only classmates knew about Azure Excellence. To teachers, he’d simply “withdrawn.” His books had vanished with the janitor’s trash.

Huang Yingdie scurried to my desk like a freed bird, sliding into the empty seat.

“Books out. Morning reading starts now.”

The teacher left. I snapped out of my daze.

“Seriously?” I whispered to Xiaodie. “Roleplaying now?”

Her cheeks stayed flushed. “No…”

“Do you…” I scanned the class. “Have social anxiety?”

Come to think of it—I’d rarely seen her talk to others. Most moments were just us two. Even at taekwondo, I’d trained her alone. Those first days, she’d barely spoken to me.

So that act earlier… wasn’t an act?

I recalled a college roommate. Silent as a ghost around strangers. Stage fright paralyzed him. Yet once comfortable, he’d chatter nonstop in our dorm.

“None of your business!”

In the soft morning light, Huang Yingdie turned her face away.

“Hey—you two know each other?”

The boy ahead twisted around, eyes gleaming like a wolf spotting prey.

“We…”

Before I could answer, a small hand clamped my thigh—hard.

“Ah! N-no, we don’t know each other.”

“Oh.” He deflated. “Well, new classmate, ask me or Da Liao anything. Happy to help.”

He turned back, his gaze on Xiaodie still ravenous.

“What was that for?” I hissed.

“Hmph.” Her face remained crimson. “Don’t meddle. I don’t need your help.”

*Which guy would ever put up with you?*

“Fine. I won’t.”

Used to her moods, I pulled out my English textbook.

After morning reading, boys tried approaching Huang Yingdie. Each time, her shy expression froze them mid-step.

Chinese. Math. English. Four morning classes blurred past.

Huang Yingdie hadn’t spoken to me once. Hadn’t left her seat.

After the fourth class, we had fifteen minutes for eye exercises and break. Head throbbing from studying, I grabbed my water bottle.

“Yi… Yi Yao…”

A hand tugged my sleeve.

“Hm?”

“Can you…”

She sat rigidly, knees pressed tight. Her black stockings had slipped down slightly. The pose made her look impossibly small.

“Can I what?”

“Take me to the restroom…”

Her voice was a thread.

I almost laughed. “Can’t go alone?”

“I…”

“Who said she didn’t need my help?”

She curled tighter, voice trembling. “Please…”

Her tone wiped the smirk off my face. “You’ve held it all morning?”

“Mhm…”

“What am I to do with you?”

*Pride before a fall.*

I stood, pulling her up. As I strode toward the door, her hand yanked me back.

“S-slow down…”

She half-crouched behind me, face twisted in pain—or frustration.

“If not for the class watching, I’d carry you again.”

I looped her arm over my shoulder. “Hurry. People might get the wrong idea.”

She blinked. “Wrong idea about what?”

Seeing no one watched us, I leaned close to her ear. “That your ‘friend’ arrived.”

“Mmph!”

The words jolted her upright.

“Let’s go. I’ll show you the building layout.”

My period had just ended. The memory was fresh.

A week of phantom cramps. Unexplained irritability. Symptoms fading only on the final day.

Yi Yao’s athletic build made hers mild, I’d heard. I couldn’t imagine how girls with weaker constitutions survived this monthly “friend.”

“Yi Yao…”

On our way back, Huang Yingdie slipped her hand into mine.

“What?”

“Thank you…”