Yufei Han was wide awake now. She shoved the ceramic mug warming her hands hard to the edge of her desk. The blue-glowing optical mouse skittered under her swift right hand as she closed the game window and logged out of her character.
Her mood plummeted like an overturned vinegar jar. Lips pressed tight, she stared blankly at the desktop wallpaper—a photo of Qinmu and herself.
Taken two months ago at an amusement park, right before the rollercoaster’s artificial mountain. She’d asked a passerby to snap it. Qinmu grinned broadly in the shot; she’d kept her smile demure, lips slightly parted, perfectly ladylike.
But now? Only thick gloom and frustration weighed on her, worsened by the grogginess of a sleepless midnight.
*Why do I even care about Qinmu and other girls? She’s a girl too. Why obsess over how happy she is with them? This is ridiculous.*
"I don’t like girls anyway. Who she likes is none of my business," Yufei muttered to herself. Yet her heart refused to let go, dragged down by an invisible weight. She tried to lift her spirits, but her face wouldn’t obey—frozen stiff, expressionless.
"...Still can’t move on." Yufei sighed. Her eyes drifted back to the wallpaper boy. His smile seemed brighter now, almost parting his lips to urge her on: *"Yufei Han, you like me, right? Come on then."*
"Like hell I will!" She snatched her English textbook off the desk and hurled it at the screen as if striking Qinmu himself, not sparing a thought for the damage.
The glowing monitor dimpled slightly where the book’s corner hit. From afar, it was barely noticeable.
Yufei didn’t care. She’d spent far more on in-game purchases than this monitor was worth. Smashing the whole setup wouldn’t faze her.
After all, the Han family was wealthy. They owned multiple downtown villas. The five-story Republican-era replica she lived in now was outdated, yes—but a historic relic in the city’s prime location. Selling it would fetch tens of millions of dollars.
---
Dawn hadn’t fully broken. Twilight still draped the sky. Silence hung heavy, undisturbed by any sound.
A breeze rustled the tarp patched over the rain shelter’s hole. The moon’s fading glow lingered; a few dim stars flickered in the night sky.
Yue Yang had set her alarm extra early. Fighting sleep, she dragged herself out of bed. It’d been nearly a day since she’d seen Qinmu. She wanted to arrive before campus stirred, wait near the Athletics Department office. He’d show up soon enough.
She watered the lush jasmine plants on her balcony, then slipped into her crimson stand-collar uniform and trousers. Before the mirror, she combed her sleep-tousled hair smooth. Beaming at her reflection, she flashed an extra-cute smile and pumped her fist. "Do your best today! Qinmu, wait for me!"
Backpack on, she was about to change shoes in the living room when her cousin Shuyun called from her bedroom doorway. Shuyun dabbed foundation before her vanity mirror, puzzled. "Xiao Yue, it’s only 7 a.m. You’re way too early. Shops aren’t even open yet."
Yue Yang stepped into Shuyun’s room, smiling. "It’s fine. Going early means I can review vocabulary at school."
Shuyun set down her powder compact, sighing wistfully. "Such a diligent kid. Unlike me—a regular office drone. No big salary, no rich handsome boyfriend. Life’s bleak. No idea what the future holds."
Yue Yang’s heart ached. She whispered comfort: "Jie, your luck will turn this year. Your hard work won’t go unnoticed by the boss."
Shuyun gave a bitter smile. She gripped Yue Yang’s shoulders, earnest. "Listen, Xiao Yue. Life’s about timing. Do the right things at the right time. Look at me—I followed my parents’ plans blindly. My degree’s useless now. Stuck in a dead-end job with no hope."
Yue Yang nodded slowly, as if understanding her pain.
Shuyun released her, waving lightly. "Off to school now. Study hard. Maybe someday you’ll pull your cousin out of poverty... Haha, just kidding. Stay safe on the way."
Yue Yang slipped out, locked the front door, and hurried down the stairs into the lingering night.
She’d lived with her aunt and uncle over a year. They treated her well, covering daily expenses despite the allowance her parents sent. Every penny went straight to her.
---
Yin Wenqi was still dead asleep. Her alarm hadn’t rung yet.
Waking this early was absurd—unnatural, even. Like trying to cultivate immortality by skipping sleep.
She lived nearby in a modest building. Her family ran a profitable liquor store, comfortable but not lavish.
Tacked prominently on her wall was a photo of her and Yue Yang. Best friends since elementary school.
They’d clashed occasionally, but harmony defined their eleven-year bond. Opposites attracted: Yue Yang quiet, gentle, conflict-averse; Wenqi fiery-tempered, impulsive, a true force of nature.
Since Yue Yang rushed to school alone, she hadn’t called Wenqi to walk together.
---
Today’s sky lacked yesterday’s brightness. Gloomy clouds hung low. Few people walked the streets—sparse, scattered figures that sparked eerie, post-apocalyptic thoughts. (Partly because she’d left too early.)
Dark clouds smothered the sun before it could rise. Bitter wind swept the deserted streets, shaking roadside trees. Leaves tore loose, swirling wildly before carpeting the ground.
Rain was coming.
Yesterday’s forecast predicted light to moderate showers. The sky was about to prove it right.
Luckily, Yue Yang carried an umbrella. She tightened her uniform against the biting wind, eyes half-squinted at the distant bus stop—the first leg of her journey.
---
Tu Shen was also out—but not heading to Jintang Middle School. She pedaled toward a 24-hour arcade instead. *Three-day holiday? Skip the boring sports meet. Wasting golden time is criminal.*
She’d left without telling her sister Shen Ting, crimson hair streaming behind her. A sly grin played on her lips beneath her violet-blue down jacket as she sped down the street.
---
Most miserable of all was Yufei Han. Poor sleep. No appetite for breakfast. Now starving and exhausted, she trudged along, mechanically chewing the bread her mom had forced into her bag.
"That Nangong Qinmu... ruined my whole night. When I see her, I’ll tear her a new one. Demand a list of every woman she’s been with. No self-control whatsoever. Can’t even manage her own desires."
The angrier she grew, the louder she muttered—oblivious to strangers’ startled stares.
Down the slope, around the bend, into the subway tunnel. Seven or eight stops to Jintang Middle. The distance demanded this grueling pre-dawn trek.
At her old school, Jiangzhou No. 2 High, it was a ten-minute walk. Effortless. But she had zero interest in their sports meet—no close friends there, no crush to spot. Nothing worth enduring the boredom.
---
Qi Yao had completely crashed. Slumped over his desk, he slept deeply. After an all-night co-op session, he was beyond exhaustion. Sports meets? Student councils? Let them expel him. He didn’t fear whatever else Ouyang Muxia might try.
---
As for our protagonist Qinmu? She was still buried under blankets, dead to the world. Her room remained stubbornly masculine: tracksuits, sneakers, bookshelves, football star posters plastered on walls. Among the history and literature books sat a photo with HuiXiang.
Poor Yue Yang was already at school, likely waiting by the Athletics Department office. Meanwhile, Qinmu lingered in warm dreams, unreachable for the next hour—until her alarm jolted her awake. She dragged herself up, slipped on slippers, and shuffled toward the bathroom.
Her mom bustled in the kitchen, preparing breakfast for Qinmu, HuiXiang, and Qingyu. Spotting Qinmu’s drowsy shuffle, she called out brightly: "Qinmu! Morning! Still half-asleep?"
Qinmu blinked slowly. "Morning, Mom."
Her voice slipped—still soft, undeniably feminine.
Mom’s smile faltered. "Qinmu... your voice? Are you alright?"
"Oh! Fine. Just... morning grogginess. Throat’s scratchy. Nothing serious, Mom."
Panic sliced through Qinmu’s haze. She snapped fully awake, standing rigid by the bathroom door. *Almost made an irreversible mistake... So careless!*
"If you’re sure..." Mom eyed her doubtfully but returned to cooking. "Hurry up and wash. Breakfast is almost ready."
Flustered, Qinmu ducked into the bathroom and shut the door tight—shielding herself from Mom’s suspicion.
The mirror shocked her: *No chest binder.* Her chest lay completely bare beneath her pajamas. *Thank goodness Mom didn’t notice. Today would’ve been a disaster.*
Heart pounding, she waited in the bathroom until the kitchen sounds faded.
Seizing the moment Mom was away, she sneaked back into her room, tidied her outfit, and headed to wash up as if nothing had happened.
Mom didn’t suspect much; she was more worried about HuiXiang’s health. As for this energetic son, she let him do as he pleased—nothing serious would come of it anyway.
After breakfast, Qinmu went to school alone. With Mom home, he had to bring his girl clothes to the secret base to change again. His plan of going straight there and back easily was now impossible; even returning meant switching back to boy clothes.
Tedious as it was, it had to be done.
The morning volleyball match proceeded on schedule. Athletes fiercely competed on the court, giving their all. Qinmu, as HuiXiang, got back in the zone, battling Class 12—who had also advanced—for victory.
Yue Yang had arrived early at the sports department office but still didn’t spot Qinmu. She couldn’t help feeling a little down.
She had no choice but to watch HuiXiang’s match again, seeking some comfort.
Meanwhile, Yufei Han gloomily discussed the morning’s schedule and timing with the sports department members, then ironed out the details. Thankfully, it went smoothly.
Though unfamiliar, department work was similar and easy to pick up. The members didn’t really care if Qinmu showed up—as long as tasks were done right without mistakes, the head could be anyone.
