I’d hoped things would go back to normal after first period, but by second period, my mind was still racing…
So much had happened in this single morning—more than in the entire past year. Sure, I’d sometimes wished for a break from my boring routine… but not *this* kind of chaos!
This wasn’t just a chemical reaction—it was full-on nuclear fission!
Meanwhile, I kept wondering why Ji Lianbing had suddenly said those things… Honestly, I didn’t think she actually liked me.
Maybe it’s because I’m sensitive to lies—I can usually tell when someone’s being truthful. Well, not always perfectly, just a gut feeling. No guarantees.
But this time? My gut was screaming.
Actually, even without that, logic alone gave it away.
There’s no way she liked me. We’d barely interacted, yet she’d been “secretly in love”? Please. I know I’m decent-looking, but not *that* magnetic.
…Though, being confessed to by the school queen *was* straight out of a fantasy.
If I hadn’t been hardened by my Titles, I might’ve gotten swept up in the moment.
But now? I knew the odds of Ji Lianbing liking me were near zero. She was probably just messing with me—or getting back at me for something I’d said.
No way was I letting her win. Heh…
Lost in thought, I sat rigid in my seat like a statue. Finally, the clock’s minute hand hit 30. The bell rang.
The instant the teacher stepped out, I shot up and strode after them toward the door.
“Juncheng!”
Ji Lianbing’s voice called from behind. I ignored it completely, pretending not to hear as I slipped out.
When in doubt, bail out!
No heroics. My mom’s wisdom echoed: *Run when you should. Pride gets you tangled in trouble.*
Avoiding life’s dangers is how you stay safe.
It was break time. At our school, that meant free time—a short but precious window.
Avoid crowds. Stay near the building—no getting stranded when the bell rings. The rooftop would’ve been perfect, but couples had claimed every inch. As a single guy, I needed another sanctuary.
This puzzle had haunted me half a semester… until I found it.
Past the basketball court, a narrow path led behind the science building. There stood an old, crumbling pavilion. Rumor said it predated the school itself. When constructing the science building, the Principal had even altered the blueprints—rotating it to preserve this pavilion, leaving an awkward acute angle between the main and science buildings.
Why? No one knew. Wild theories spread: cursed pavilion, gateway to the underworld, zombie sightings… The shadowy woods behind the science building already felt eerie. With those rumors? No one dared go near it.
I didn’t believe any of it.
Growing up around funeral homes and cemeteries with Mom, I’d seen enough burials to lose all fear of ghosts.
This pavilion, though? Perfect for naps. Stone benches, a blow-up pillow—I’d claimed it as my own. I could’ve renamed it “Juncheng Pavilion.”
Today, fleeing Ji Lianbing, I returned to my sanctuary. But someone had beaten me there.
Gray hair—not the salt-and-pepper mix like mine, but true, natural gray. Un-dyed. Effortless.
She sat silently on a bench, a book resting on her lap, turning pages one by one.
No stunning beauty, yet she blended seamlessly with the surroundings. I couldn’t look away. A quiet calm radiated from her. Silent, yet vividly present.
A cool breeze snapped me out of my daze. I approached.
Near the pavilion, I saw her Title and name:
【Active Disability Fetishist】
【Jiang Xueqing】
Jiang Xueqing… the emotionless girl who sat in front of me.
If I was aloof, she was ice. If I struggled with words, she spoke none. No one knew what she thought—including me.
Objectively, she was as pretty as Ji Lianbing. But her silence made her less popular. Though I’d heard she was a goddess among fans of the “three-no” type…
Wait—her Title was weird. *Active Disability Fetishist*?
I knew “disability fetishist” meant being attracted to—or obsessed with becoming—disabled. Did “active” mean she *wanted* to be disabled?
No clue.
Still, it wasn’t scary. Just… personal preference.
Jiang Xueqing noticed me. She lifted her head, eyes meeting mine.
“…”
“…”
Neither of us spoke. Awkward silence… or maybe just for me. Her face stayed perfectly blank—the ultimate poker face.
“…”
“…”
Fine. Fine. I surrender.
When two passive people meet, the *less* passive one has to start. Otherwise, nothing happens. At all.
I cleared my throat. “What are you doing here?”
“…”
She glanced at me, then back to her book. Zero interest.
I hadn’t seen her in second period either. Skipping class to read here? Seriously?
I sat on the bench opposite hers. She didn’t move away… or maybe just ignored me.
No pushing it. I’d stay until break ended.
March stone benches were freezing. But I was prepared.
Last semester, I’d claimed this spot. After sweeping off dust, I’d brought old cushions from home. Now, I could nap comfortably.
I hopped to the pavilion’s side. There stood a strange little shrine—probably for the Earth God? No portrait, no words, but what else could it be?
Didn’t matter. I used it as storage.
My comics, novels, cushions, blow-up pillow, hard drive, charger, handheld console, and a thin blanket—all tucked inside. I’d even hung a mosquito net. It worked; everything looked clean.
Grabbing two cushions, I returned. I placed one under myself, then held the other toward Jiang Xueqing.
She looked up, confused.
I scratched my cheek, stumbling over words. “Uh… stone benches are cold. Sitting on ice gives you tummy trouble. So… take this cushion. Yeah.”
Before she could reply, I set it beside her and retreated to my bench, pulling out my phone.
Time passed. Almost 10 a.m. I stood, pocketing my phone.
Glancing at Jiang Xueqing—she’d sat on the cushion I gave her.
For no reason, a warm sense of achievement bloomed in my chest.
A smile spread across my face. Mood lifted. I gathered my cushion to leave.
Jiang Xueqing stood too, holding out the cushion to return it.
I waved her off. “Keep it. Just put it back in the shrine when you’re done. If you come here again, help yourself to cushions—or the blanket. Whatever you need.”
Why had I done that? My passive nature usually froze me solid. Yet here I was, offering kindness.
Maybe because she was even more passive than me? Shared loneliness?
No idea. But I’d done it.
“…”
She didn’t speak. But she gave the tiniest nod. A thank-you.
I nodded back. Turned to leave—
Then froze.
Jiang Xueqing’s name and Title had shifted from white to green.
It had *changed color*?!
