"Listen, little Bailin," Teacher Wen murmured, his voice low and gentle like a lullaby. "I don’t care about your background or how many people you’ve offended. I genuinely worry about you. You’ve always been polite and proper at school, but you’re far too mature for your age. Sometimes that makes it hard for classmates to approach you."
"Of course, those boys nowadays are all rash and restless—trying to fly before they can even walk straight. Getting close to them might drag you into unnecessary conflicts. Love? Romance? At their age, talking about such things is just embarrassing. But I’m not telling you to avoid friends altogether. You just need to find the right balance yourself."
"And your health—look at you. What you used to be versus what you are now... I won’t even step out of line to avoid seeming like I’m harassing you. A girl must respect and cherish herself. You’ve got the respect part down perfectly, but this self-neglect? You’re practically destroying your own body."
*Sigh.* "Then again, little Bailin, you push yourself because you’re too exceptional. If my own grandson had even a tenth of your steadiness, his parents wouldn’t lose sleep over him."
Teacher Wen’s words flowed without pause—not quite scolding, more like a soft, hypnotic murmur. Senior Bailin sat perfectly poised, her respectful smile never faltering. She nodded attentively whenever he made a valid point. Her flawless demeanor left Wen Cunyuan both amused and exasperated.
He’d only meant for the overworked girl to rest in his office. Yet her earnest attention exhausted even him. Giving up, he fell silent, watching her with a mix of frustration and fondness. Bailin responded with a crystal-clear gaze and a perfectly timed, courteous smile.
"You really are..." Wen trailed off, utterly speechless.
When he finally stopped, Bailin replied gracefully: "Thank you for your concern, Teacher Wen. I’ll keep your guidance close to my heart."
A veteran educator with countless students under his belt, Wen rarely felt attached. But seeing Bailin’s unwavering sincerity sparked unexpected warmth in his chest.
*If only this were ten years ago... or even five.* Back then, he’d have leveraged her connections and his own network to transform Qianning High into a true haven of learning—a place where a hundred schools of thought could flourish.
But age had dimmed his fire. After steering Qianning through decades of storms, he now only wished for its peaceful survival. All he could do was quietly support Bailin.
A flicker of lonely resignation crossed Wen’s face. In that instant, Bailin’s gentle eyes held a trace of admiration.
*This old man... his weary surrender is strangely endearing.*
*When will my dear Junior Li Ming wear that same look of resigned acceptance?*
"Alright, alright. Return to the Student Council. I won’t keep you."
"Thank you, Teacher."
As Bailin rose respectfully, her expression suddenly twisted in pain. She swayed, collapsing back into the chair, clutching her stomach. Beads of cold sweat dotted her forehead.
"Bailin! Little Bailin! Are you alright?" Wen rushed forward, panic edging his voice. "Where does it hurt? I’ll take you to the infirmary right now!"
"...No need, Teacher. I just skipped breakfast. A little dizziness. Stomachache." She declined firmly yet gently, pushing away his helping hand.
Watching her walk out—still elegant despite the pain, back straight as a blade—Wen’s brow furrowed deeply. To him, she looked like a porcelain vase about to shatter. Helpless, he pulled out a cigarette but didn’t light it.
*Student Council. School Board. Bailin. Those old vultures...*
A chilling thought struck him: *A storm is coming for the Student Council. And Bailin’s breaking body might be the spark that ignites it.*
---
Half an hour later, Bailin stepped out of Wen’s office. Her mission was accomplished. Teacher Wen loved chatting with colleagues—soon, the entire faculty would know "Senior Bailin’s health was fragile."
Truthfully, she’d been laying this groundwork for a year. Was she actually unwell? Only she knew.
For now, a faint smile played on her lips. She glided down the corridor like a windblown goddess of spring strolling through her domain—radiant, effortless.
Morning light spilled like liquid gold across the hallway, turning it into a dreamlike sanctuary. Bailin’s lowered lashes seemed to savor these fleeting moments of beauty.
The senior and junior high buildings were connected. This corridor—where she now walked—was once the place she’d gazed at from afar. To reach the Student Council office, she’d need to descend the central staircase.
The third-period bell rang. Restless freshmen spilled into the halls, desperate for fresh air after an hour of boredom.
The moment Li Ming stepped into the corridor—
The moment Bailin turned the corner—
Their eyes locked. Each saw their own reflection in the other’s gaze.
Bailin’s mind boiled over. All she could hear was the thundering of her own heartbeat.
She stood bathed in adoration. No makeup adorned her face—just natural, captivating grace. Sunlight kissed her porcelain skin; her simply tied black hair framed her perfectly. Warmth and understanding radiated from her expression, inviting trust, craving dependence.
Her plain Qianning High summer uniform—a white shirt so sheer it hinted at delicate curves beneath, legs sheathed in translucent stockings—left onlookers speechless.
Both knew the other had seen them.
With immense willpower, Bailin crushed the urge to run into Li Ming’s arms. She turned the corner, vanishing from his startled gaze.
