In the deep, silent night, a bright crescent moon hung above wind-shaken treetops. Yellowed leaves, unable to endure autumn’s chill, drifted reluctantly from branches. They landed softly on the ground, then creaked and creaked as the wind nudged them along.

"Ah, heave-ho! Finally found a spot to escape the wind." A girl in a white floral dress slid open a third-floor window and leaped into a stranger’s room.

"Where am I? Such a mess... whatever, time to rest." She sat on the floor, scanning the room. Drowsiness crept over her, and she leaned against a chair, falling asleep.

Nearby on a large bed lay a boy with sky-blue, silky short hair. A prominent cowlick bounced rhythmically with his breath. His hand scratched absently at an itchy shoulder, dragging the blanket down. His collarbone and neck were fully exposed to the cold air.

"...You’re so annoying." The boy muttered in his sleep, his voice loud enough to jolt the girl awake.

"Who’s there?" She blinked open her eyes, the blurry world snapping into focus. Directly ahead, a boy slept soundly.

"Is someone here? Let me check." She stood and leaned over the bed, eyes wide and fixed on his face.

His calm features, closed eyes, slightly parted lips, and tiny finger movements while asleep utterly captivated her. She stared, lost in admiration, clicking her tongue softly. Unable to resist, she pressed a kiss to his cheek. "A natural beauty—too bad you’re a boy~ Consider this my gift to you."

The boy remained asleep, unaware, still lost in happy dreams. The faint smile on his lips made her giggle quietly.

Soon, dawn painted the eastern sky pale. The sun would rise next, fulfilling its daily duty to warm the world—did it ever grow tired?

"Hmph~ What a shame. I have to go. I’ll visit you again someday~" She glanced at the brightening window with regret, then climbed back out. She vanished over the tree-lined wall.

---

November neared deep winter. The wind howled fiercely, cold blanketing all of River City. By 7:30 AM, students streamed into Jintang Senior High School. Nangong Qinmu and Qi Yao trailed the crowd toward the classroom building.

"Brrr, freezing! Qinmu, you’re wearing so little—I’m chilled just looking at you. Why not bundle up?" Qi Yao rubbed his hands, breath puffing white.

"I don’t feel cold. This temperature is fine with just a uniform and a tank top. You’re wrapped like a dumpling. What’ll you do when real cold hits?" Qinmu replied with a hint of pride. His cold-resistant constitution was a lifelong bragging right, especially impressive in the damp south.

Qi Yao frowned at his smugness. "Qinmu, you’ve really started looking like a girl lately. That pretty face—no one would guess you’re a guy."

Indeed, as they aged, Qinmu’s growth diverged sharply from other boys. While peers grew beards and deep voices, Qinmu remained smooth-skinned and delicate. His soft-spoken tone, even when trying to sound masculine, felt like a girl forcing a low pitch.

Before Qi Yao finished, Qinmu’s foot shot out, slamming into his right leg. "Like a girl? How about now!?" Qinmu snapped. Years of sensitivity to such remarks had honed his lightning-fast kicks.

"Ow! Ow! Ow! Brother Qinmu, I’m sorry! Not at all! You look... super manly now!" Qi Yao dropped to one knee, his leg bent unnaturally at 90 degrees.

"Good. Remember what happens when you anger the star forward of the school soccer team? Next time, my buddies will gang up on you." Qinmu pressed his advantage, silencing the annoying mouth.

(Though awkwardly, his teammates secretly agreed with Qi Yao. Just days earlier, after training, they’d huddled near the field’s stone steps, whispering about Qinmu resting there.)

"Wow, look at Qinmu—he’s gorgeous. That sky-blue hair, sweat-soaked white jersey... like an angel descended."

"Shut up! You into him? He’s a guy—and tougher than you most days. No gays allowed on our team."

"Quiet! If Qinmu hears, his kick might cripple you for life."

"Even better. I’d love being bullied by such a cute boy."

"Disgusting fag and masochist."

(Qinmu knew none of this. He clung to the illusion that his teammates stood firmly on his side.)

Qinmu strode ahead, ignoring the limping Qi Yao. "Qinmu, I shouldn’t have said that. I’m really sorry." "Qinmu, look at me?" Qi Yao hobbled after him, thinking he was truly angry.

Qinmu spun around, glaring. "Enough! Can’t I just stay quiet?"

Qi Yao knew another word would backfire. But he risked it with Qinmu’s favorite topic: "Rumor says basketball sign-ups started. I’m definitely on our class list—I’m the future NBA star, third in line for the pros."

"Shut it. Your sloppy skills can’t even beat school athletes. NBA? Embarrassing."

"Embarrassing? Embarrassing? As long as you’re not mad."

"Hey, Qinmu—you’re joining too? I heard your name’s first on the list."

"What, doubting me?"

"Never! Qinmu the Great could take on two guys. But why’s a soccer player meddling? What if you kick the basketball by mistake? Awkward."

"Are you provoking me? Since when can’t soccer players play basketball? Remember gym class? I schooled you at shooting." Qinmu’s pride flared, leg twitching for another kick. Qi Yao dodged, limping.

"Fine. I’ll spare you this once." Qinmu relented, seeing his awkward hops.

"Still, your skills are solid." Qi Yao recalled Qinmu stealing the ball—he’d been distracted by staring—but Qinmu’s speed was undeniable.

Praise lifted Qinmu’s mood. "Of course! I’ve played three years. When it comes to ball skills, if I say one, no one dares say two—"

Once on this topic, Qinmu’s self-praise knew no bounds.

They chatted all the way to classroom 13 of Building 2.