Wednesday, November 18th – Morning

Morning mist clung to the windowpane, blurring the world outside. A drizzle tapped like scattered pearls on the awning—dripping, bouncing, rolling—a steady rhythm composing the rain’s symphony.

A cold, lazy wind swept in, driving rain against the glass. Droplets slid diagonally under gravity’s pull, merging and splitting before plunging freely off the sill.

Qinmu wrestled free from HuiXiang’s quilt after a fierce struggle. She’d pried loose the girl who’d clung to her all night, dodging sleepy ambushes from the one pretending to still be asleep. Her morning escape had been pure torture.

Once dressed, Qinmu flung the window open with deliberate mischief. Icy, damp air rushed in. She winked, grinning: "HuiXiang, look—it’s raining~~"

HuiXiang cracked open bleary eyes, yanking the quilt tighter to trap the last warmth. "So it’s raining. I’m not done sleeping. Call in sick for me today."

Her wish went ungranted. Soon enough, Qinmu ripped off the quilt, forced clothes onto her half-dead sister, and herded her through washing up, breakfast, and finally out the door in leather boots.

"Don’t forget your umbrella, HuiXiang," Qinmu called after her—the last annoying reminder.

"Got it, *Jiejie*."

"*So* loud…" HuiXiang muttered under her breath after shouting back, stomping impatiently as she waited.

Qinmu still hadn’t appeared in the living room. HuiXiang stormed into the kitchen, boots scuffing the marble floor. "Jiejie! Hurry up! You’re slower than molasses! Weren’t we walking together today?"

Qinmu slapped her forehead, suddenly remembering. "Right! Sorry—I thought I was waiting for Qi Yao. Should I call him?"

"Just call. Stick with me from now on. Walking with him wastes time… and risks exposing you." HuiXiang leaned against the kitchen divider, her gaze flat and weary.

Qinmu dialed the bottom contact. A grumpy voice crackled through: "Who’s this? Calling this early? Have some decency."

Qinmu bristled. "*Excuse* me? Who do you think you’re talking to?" she shot back sharply. "Qi Yao, you’ve gotten awfully bold lately."

The voice instantly softened. "Brother Qinmu! My apologies! I thought it was my friend—he calls at midnight. My mistake!"

"Apologies don’t fix anything. Anyway, I won’t walk with you anymore. Find someone else."

"*What?* No! My attitude was bad, I admit it—but don’t sentence me to death! Why?" Qi Yao nearly bounced off his mattress. "Your *sister*? She’s letting you walk her again? What about her friend Ling Xu? Did you two fight?"

"Hey! Ling Xu and I are fine, thanks for asking!" HuiXiang snatched the phone. "And my *gege* won’t walk with you anymore. Give up!" She unleashed a verbal storm that ended their walking arrangement and jolted Qi Yao fully awake—no longer sleepy, just heartbroken. *My precious Qinmu… no, my best friend Qinmu… gone…* He paused. *Wait—did she just say ‘jie’?* Shaking it off, he threw on his coat to buy breakfast for his still-sleeping sister, Qi Han.

Qinmu took back the dead phone. Under HuiXiang’s glare, she slipped on her shoes. They stepped outside, each under a green umbrella.

"Morning!" Ling Xu waved energetically from another path, her pink umbrella bright against the rain.

"Morning!!" Qinmu and HuiXiang chorused in perfect sync—same tone, same gesture—as if they were one person.

"Still so in tune," Ling Xu teased gently, her smile warm and lively. Her pale fingers, faintly flushed, held the pink umbrella. The red school uniform strained slightly over her chest. Jet-black hair fell straight and still. Behind black-rimmed glasses, her smile radiated passion. An aura of quiet intellect surrounded her, especially with the thick library book cradled in her arms.

Qinmu had admired Ling Xu’s talent since middle school. Riding the wave from newspapers to web novels, her coming-of-age stories pulsed with rhythm and heart. She’d claimed a spot among River City’s literary new talents, earning school awards time and again. This rising star of youth literature left Qinmu in awe. She’d even tipped Ling Xu online once—though Ling Xu’s success came from sheer grit. Rumor said she was drafting a new novel, aiming for print publication.

Lost in admiration, Qinmu didn’t notice HuiXiang’s pinch until it came—sharp and sudden. She turned to see HuiXiang’s face tight with suppressed jealousy, held back only by Ling Xu’s presence.

"Y-yeah," Qinmu stammered, scratching her earlobe. "HuiXiang wanted me to walk her today." Her flushed cheeks betrayed her flustered state, caught instantly by Ling Xu’s writer-sharp eyes.

"Qinmu, you’re adorable," Ling Xu laughed, hiding her mouth behind the book. "Wasting that on being a boy is your biggest mistake."

"N-nothing like that… Let’s go! The rain’s getting heavier. Puddles will slow us down." Qinmu tried to deflect, flustered.

"Right, right~" HuiXiang smoothly covered for her. "My *gege* isn’t good with words. Be patient with him." *Better safe than sorry—exposure would be disastrous.*

"Oh, I know," Ling Xu grinned. "Qinmu’s our campus flower-boy. Even *I* wouldn’t mind chasing him."

"*Chasing*? Don’t joke about that!" HuiXiang swatted her arm, cheeks pink. "He might get ideas!"

Ling Xu stuck out her tongue. "Sorry, Qinmu! Just teasing. Don’t take it seriously."

Qinmu nodded faintly, her mind still floating on Ling Xu’s words. *She likes me…* Warmth bloomed in her chest.

Rain splashed underfoot as they walked. They greeted classmates, traded jokes, and chatted about school gossip until they neared their classrooms.

At parting, Ling Xu pressed her thick book into Qinmu’s hands with a mysterious smile. "Read this."

"Why me?" Qinmu blinked.

Ling Xu just held up one finger—*1*—and walked off, pulling a curious HuiXiang with her. Qinmu stared at the worn cover. The title was faded, the pages dog-eared from countless readers.

Back at her desk, Qinmu flipped through it. Page 1: nothing. Page 11: a faint pencil note—*date*. Page 111: a bold, underlined passage that struck like lightning:

> *"Truth hides only from careless eyes. What you try to conceal, others may have seen long ago. Watch your words. Know your flaws. Never assume others are fools. The wisest souls live freest when they’re honest…"*

Qinmu clapped the book shut. Her hands flew to her chest—*oh no*. She hadn’t worn her binder today. The uniform couldn’t hide what she was.

*Does this mean Ling Xu knows I’m a girl?*

Her face burned. If Ling Xu knew, the whole class would soon follow. *Impossible!* Rushing home to fix it would make her late.

*What do I do?!*

Panic clawed at her temples. Just then, Tu Shen sauntered up humming, slapping Qinmu’s shoulder. "Move it, Qinmu! Let me in!"

Qinmu saw salvation. Tears pricked her eyes as she grabbed Tu Shen’s black backpack. "Tu Shen—please! Help me!"

Tu Shen froze, crimson ponytail spilling over Qinmu’s shoulder. She balled her fists, confused and annoyed. "Can’t it wait till I sit down?"

Qinmu scrambled to pull out her chair—too fast. The screech shattered the classroom quiet. Latecomers turned to stare.

Instinctively, Qinmu crossed her arms over her chest.

After the gazes lost interest, they withdrew, each returning to their own tasks.

Tu Shen watched with wide eyes as Qinmu’s expressive face shifted from panic to sigh, from unease to calm—like a captivating performance. She couldn’t help but smile, pinching Qinmu’s bouncy cheek.

"Hey, spill it already. I don’t have time to waste, sis. I still haven’t copied my homework."

Qinmu wouldn’t forget this. She spun around quickly, leaning over to whisper in Tu Shen’s ear:

"Tu Shen, I forgot my chest binder. I’m not wearing a bra… will anyone notice?"

Hearing this heavy secret, Tu Shen’s expression turned panicked too. She glanced discreetly at Qinmu’s chest. Sure enough, it was nothing like her usual flat appearance. Sharp-eyed boys might spot something off.

"Don’t panic yet. Let me think of a way to bluff through this."

"Mm." Qinmu’s bright, expectant eyes fixed on her—as if only she could save her.

Both were deeply lost. This "century-old dilemma" felt as elusive as a moon in the mirror or a flower in water. They strained for solutions, but time slipped away with no progress.

--School Gate

Yue Yang stepped out of the cafeteria, holding a blue-patterned umbrella. Fresh from breakfast, she was in high spirits, scanning the roadside scenery and passersby for familiar faces.

But friends were scarce. Only a few close girls from class and Vice President Yin Wenqi mattered. The rest meant little. One person consumed her thoughts: the dashing youth with sky-blue hair—Nangong Qinmu. Would he appear in this chaotic crowd? What umbrella would he carry?

No familiar figure appeared. Disappointed, Yue Yang trudged toward the sakura grove. This was where she first met Qinmu in high school—the sacred place where sakura blossoms, tokens of their middle school meetings, still lingered.

Sakura trees stood bare. Winter’s bitter cold had stripped most leaves. Fallen dry leaves lay sparse, yet this reserved quiet felt like the sakura’s charm.

"So desolate," Yue Yang sighed. Her warm breath vanished like smoke in the cold wind.

Suddenly, bare branches behind her rustled. A rough, unmistakable "ah!" escaped someone. Yue Yang panicked, sprinting from the grove toward the teaching building.

"A man’s voice? Terrifying! Good thing I noticed—or things would’ve gotten bad."

She vanished through the building’s back door in a flash, backpack bouncing as she ran upstairs.

Qi Yao, tailing closely, cursed his lost target. He stopped, retrieved his umbrella snagged by branches, and brushed off water stains. "Damn luck! Now how do I report her whereabouts to Qinmu? But Yue Yang—you just wait. You can’t escape my grasp!"