"Are you an idiot?! You still have me!"

Amidst the pitter-patter of rain, the girl’s near-heart-wrenching cry echoed—as if it were the only sound left in the world.

Hearing Qian Yu’s voice, Guan Jinyu’s pupils contracted slightly, stunned rigid.

In that instant, her icy heart began to thaw, like the first snow melting as winter yielded to spring.

Watching Qian Yu strain to pull her up, Guan Jinyu felt needed for the first time—this world might not be so cold after all.

Qian Yu’s actions surprised her, yet felt utterly right.

After all, she’d always been kind—even to Guan Jinyu, treating her with equal warmth.

Truth was, Guan Jinyu had never disliked her. She’d only feared dragging Qian Yu down by getting too close.

And just as she’d dreaded, rumors spread after Qian Yu helped her a few times—that Qian Yu was a lesbian, absurd as it sounded.

Really, Qian Yu had always been there: shielding her from bullies, scaring off thugs demanding money, and now—stopping her suicide attempt.

Mo Qianyu… what have I ever done to deserve your kindness?

Seeing Qian Yu’s arms flushed red, nearly spent, Guan Jinyu knew if she kept holding on, they’d both plummet—shattered on the ground below.

She couldn’t hesitate. Because Qian Yu had always been kind, she couldn’t drag her down further.

If you won’t let go… then I will.

With that thought, Guan Jinyu reached out with her free hand, prying Qian Yu’s fingers from her wrist.

"Xiao Yu! Are you insane?!"

Exhausted as she was, Qian Yu gasped at the sight.

But Guan Jinyu ignored her, peeling each finger loose while murmuring softly:

"Mo… never mind. I’ll call you Qian Yu. Last time, anyway… It’s enough. You don’t have to fight for someone like me. Just… let me go."

One finger slipped free. Qian Yu’s numb, trembling hand couldn’t resist as Guan Jinyu pried another loose.

No… Xiao Yu…

Tears streamed down Qian Yu’s face as she shook her head silently—helpless.

With each finger peeled away, Guan Jinyu’s weight grew heavier, until Qian Yu could no longer hold on.

Just as Guan Jinyu freed another finger, Qian Yu’s grip failed completely.

In that split second, Qian Yu’s eyes held only confusion and despair.

Why… Xiao Yu…

Feeling the grip vanish, Guan Jinyu tipped backward without surprise.

A strange relief washed over her as she floated downward.

This time, I won’t drag you down…

Sorry for wasting your kindness…

She closed her eyes, awaiting death—but the fall never came. Instead, a stronger force yanked her wrist upward.

Eyes snapping open, she found herself back on the rooftop. A young, handsome man stood there—he’d pulled her up.

Dazed, Guan Jinyu parted her lips to speak—but

*Slap!*

A sharp sting bloomed on her cheek. Qian Yu had struck her.

Guan Jinyu stared blankly, hand pressed to her reddening cheek. Qian Yu still held the slapping pose, rain and tears indistinguishable on her face—only her swollen, red-rimmed eyes betrayed her sobs.

"Never do something that stupid again. Understand?"

After a pause, Qian Yu lowered her trembling hand, voice soft.

"...I’m sorry."

All Guan Jinyu could offer was an apology.

Beside them, the young man watched silently.

—

The police arrived long after the drama ended.

Guan Jinyu, the cause of the commotion, was taken for questioning. As a minor, she’d face no criminal charges—just a stern lecture before release.

With her gone, the crowd of teachers and students dispersed. Only the young man remained, holding an umbrella over Qian Yu as the police car’s red lights faded into the rainy distance.

Once the car vanished, Qian Yu crossed her arms and kicked the man’s heel. "Hey, idiot. What are you doing here?"

He bristled at the nickname. "Qian Yu, I get it normally—but I came all the way to your school! Show some respect. Call me Dad."

This lifesaver was Xia Chuan.

"Pfft. You’re not my dad. Seriously, why are you here?" Qian Yu stuck out her tongue.

"You little brat…" Xia Chuan huffed, then sighed. "Saw you were upset last night. Finished my project early, took leave to check on you. Then your teacher called—said you were stopping a suicide jump. You’re my precious girl, after all…"

"Ew! Who’s your precious girl? Have some shame!" Qian Yu’s cheeks flushed as she cut him off, looking away.

"Can you not interrupt? I just saved someone—let me have my moment!"

"...Go on." Qian Yu grumbled, turning her head.

"I sprinted here like my life depended on it. At the rooftop door, your principal and teacher blocked me—said it was too dangerous. Good thing I charged past them. Or your friend…" Xia Chuan trailed off, beaming for praise.

"Ugh, so full of yourself… But fine. You did okay this time." Qian Yu muttered reluctantly.

"Hmph…" Xia Chuan swelled with pride—then sobered. "Next time, don’t be reckless. Save others, but protect yourself too. Don’t end up falling with them. Got it?" He’d missed the earlier struggle, but Qian Yu’s swollen arms told enough.

"...Got it." Qian Yu pouted but nodded seriously.

"Good. Go to class now. I’m heading back to work. Your friend’s safe—don’t let this distract you. Focus on lessons." Xia Chuan tapped her forehead gently.

"You’re so naggy… I know." Qian Yu covered the spot he’d touched, cheeks warming again.

"Good." Xia Chuan chuckled, opening his umbrella. "I’m off." He wasn’t worried about her getting wet—she’d borrowed a foldable umbrella from the principal.

Qian Yu didn’t reply. She simply unfolded her umbrella and stood in the rain, watching him leave.

"Wait, Xia Chuan!"

He turned back before he’d gone far. "What?"

Qian Yu hesitated, fidgeting. Then, eyes downcast, she steeled herself:

"Xia Chuan… I want to reclaim Mom’s belongings."

—

The next day.

The relentless rain that had poured for over ten hours finally stopped at dawn. Today was bright and clear.

Guan Jinyu was still at the police station, receiving counseling. Qian Yu had wanted to visit—but reclaiming her mother’s belongings took priority.

Her mother’s items were stored at the crematorium. After lunch, Xia Chuan and Qian Yu headed there.

The crematorium had been completely renovated since Xia Chuan’s time working there. Even the staff had changed—no one recognized him now. He felt a pang of nostalgia.

After explaining their situation, the staff searched for over an hour before retrieving the items.

Qian Yu sat in the reception hall, her slender thighs cradling her mother’s belongings:

A savings book. A photo album. An envelope.

Sunlight glinted on the yellowed items—as if holding time itself.