Monday, Yichen arrived at school as usual. Soon after entering, he noticed students sneaking glances at him. Feeling uneasy, he quickened his pace.

As he stepped into the classroom, classmates turned to stare at him in unison. Then they resumed their chatter.

"Hey, Zhenghong, what’s going on today?" Yichen asked as he sat down.

"Your story’s spread everywhere."

"Spread?"

Zhenghong pulled out his phone, opened a page, and handed it over. On the school forum, a post showed photos of Zixuan kissing Yichen the day before.

"Loads of people snapped you then. It’s all over campus now."

"Uh, they actually uploaded it to the forum?"

Zhenghong scrolled down. Photos filled the screen—different angles, moments: tender gazes, the kiss itself, even low shots of Zixuan. Luckily, nothing inappropriate showed.

Forum users were debating which photo looked best.

Cold sweat trickled down Yichen’s back. He wanted to bolt from school.

"Don’t sweat it. It’ll cool off soon. Yichen, you…" Zhenghong hesitated.

"What?"

"Yesterday with your sister like that… are you two…" Zhenghong struggled to speak.

Sensing his meaning, Yichen waved his hands frantically.

"No, no! It’s not what you think. Nothing’s between us."

"Really? But she—"

"She was just overjoyed. I felt awkward too, haha."

"Really?" Zhenghong eyed him suspiciously.

"Really!" Yichen nodded hard.

Yichen spotted Shiyue’s empty seat.

"Shiyue’s absent today?"

Zhenghong shrugged.

"She took leave. This morning, I saw Zhou Xiaolan asking our homeroom teacher for her."

"Rare for her to skip."

"Dunno. Didn’t catch the reason."

The bell rang. Zhenghong turned away. Yichen pulled out his textbook.

***

After school, Yichen walked alone on the campus path. Near the gate, the tennis court had no crowd—just a few girls practicing.

He took out his phone, hesitating. Then he dialed Shiyue.

"Hello, Shiyue."

"Yichen? What’s up?" Her voice was calm, no hint of sickness.

"You took leave today. Are you ill?"

"I’m fine. My brother’s sick. I’m caring for him at home."

"Oh, great." Relief washed over him—then he caught his slip. "Ah, no, that’s bad."

Hearing his fluster, Shiyue snorted with laughter.

"It’s okay. Thanks for worrying."

Yichen’s ears burned. His face must be red. Thank goodness it was just a call.

"Yichen, I can’t come to your place tonight."

"No problem. Don’t overwork yourself."

"Got it. Thanks."

Rustle, rustle, rustle. Sounds of rummaging came through the phone.

"Looking for something?"

"Hmm. Fever medicine’s running low." Her tone turned troubled.

A sudden impulse hit Yichen. "How about I buy some after tutoring and bring it to your place?"

"Huh? No need to trouble yourself."

"It’s fine. I’m free anyway."

Yichen knew Shiyue usually resisted his visits. He’d spoken on pure impulse.

Silence stretched.

Yichen’s heart sank. She’d refuse.

"Then come have dinner at my place tonight."

"Huh? Really?"

"Mm."

"Okay! I’ll come right after tutoring."

"I’ll wait."

After hanging up, Yichen couldn’t believe it. Had he heard wrong?

When they first met, Shiyue never kept him at arm’s length. Their bond was closer then. But half a year ago, she suddenly started refusing his visits. His trips to her home dwindled to zero. Why? He didn’t know.

After tutoring, Yichen bought fever medicine at a nearby pharmacy. He jogged toward Shiyue’s home.

To reach it, he passed his own house, then walked twenty minutes. Cities always build new districts. Old areas get abandoned—poor infrastructure drives residents away. Only the poor and elderly remain.

Shiyue lived on the fifth floor of a crumbling building. Its outer walls peeled, exposing red bricks covered in moss. Old pipes and wires meant frequent blackouts and water cuts. Yichen and Zixuan had lived in such places when poor.

At Shiyue’s iron gate, Yichen took a deep breath and knocked. Before he finished, the door swung open. Shiyue stood there, stunningly dressed: a white tee under a pink knitted sweater, paired with a sky-blue skirt. Not typical home wear.

"Your outfit’s beautiful," Yichen blurted. Shiyue lowered her head, blushing with a faint smile.

"Thanks."

"Here’s the fever medicine."

"Mm. Come in."

Yichen stepped inside. Though he hadn’t visited in ages, the layout felt familiar.

The apartment wasn’t small—six rooms plus kitchen and living area—but worn walls, cracked tiles, and old furniture showed her family’s struggle. Yet mismatched items stood out: a small new sofa, a 60-inch curved TV, and a brand-new PS6 console below.

Yichen smiled inwardly. These must be from her job at his place. His decision had been right.

Shiyue noticed him eyeing the console.

"Want to play? It’s new. I’m not great at it yet."

"No. Just surprised you like consoles too."

"It’s for Xiaohe. He begged for ages. Got first in class, so it’s his reward."

"Don’t spoil him. Games might addict him or teach violence."

Yichen kept finding faults in her gift.

"Xiaohe won’t. He’s sensible. Unlike you."

"Uh… I wasn’t like that before." Yichen stammered guiltily.

"Remember who got me fired from the bar job?" Shiyue teased, settling old scores.

"This… I’m sorry…" Yichen mumbled. It had been his fault.

"But you helped me in the end." Shiyue lowered her head, smiling shyly.

Yichen’s heart thumped.

"Actually, I did little. Where’s Auntie?"

"Mom’s still working. Xiaomei’s at rehearsal for a school show—she’ll be late."

"Oh. What about Xiaohe?"

"He just fell asleep. Fever’s mostly gone. One more dose tonight, he’ll be fine tomorrow."

"Can I check on him?"

"No!" Shiyue’s shout startled Yichen. She froze too, shocked by her own voice.