Kujou Yukihime offered not the slightest resistance, obediently following Yun Mingxin away.

Countless onlookers stared dumbfounded along their path.

*Teacher-student romance.*

*Cradle-snatching.*

*Older woman with a younger man.*

Each topic alone sparked gossip. Combined, they threatened a tsunami of whispers.

Yun Mingxin had no time to dwell on it. With class still a while off, he pulled Kujou Yukihime toward deserted corners.

Though her arm linked with his, he barely noticed.

Skilled from practice, he soon guided her to a secluded grove on campus.

Tucked away, the spot had terrible Wi-Fi and cell service. Even with a resting bench, few ever came here.

Leaning against a banyan tree, Yun Mingxin exhaled.

He hated being stared at—especially with such peculiar gazes.

Back when Su Xiaoyue first arrived, he’d faced the same.

He’d since mastered slipping into hidden nooks and quiet corners.

But even in solitude, could you really find comfort staring at a rock?

Only when he remembered the teacher beside him did he notice a pair of bright eyes inches from his face.

Glistening with moisture, they reflected his own startled image.

A delicate fragrance flooded his senses, heady and sweet.

*Different from Kujou Kana’s scent… yet equally refined.*

*Truly, mistress and maid share a kinship.*

“What were you thinking about?”

Kujou Yukihime’s voice snapped him back. She’d subtly created distance between them.

Her smile held the easy contentment of an office worker just paid.

Yun Mingxin leaned closer, frowning. “You seem… amused.”

“Heaven forbid, Mr. Yun,” she said lightly. “I’m naturally cheerful. Such rudeness would be beneath me.”

“I should thank you for sparing me those lecherous stares.”

In her crisp professional suit, she clasped her hands together, bowing slightly with impeccable grace.

“Why thank me? Weren’t you asking me to show you around campus?”

“Come to think of it—you should know this place already. As a teacher and international guest, the principal likely gave you a personal tour.”

That very suspicion had driven him to drag her here, away from prying eyes.

“Well…” A flicker of panic crossed Kujou Yukihime’s eyes, though her face remained serene.

She’d hoped playing the innocent card would distract him from such details.

But this man was meticulous—annoyingly so.

*No surprise. A romance novelist would notice everything.*

She inched back almost imperceptibly, then brightened. “Truthfully… I’m worried.”

“⊙∀⊙?”

“Worried? About what?” Yun Mingxin blinked, confused.

She avoided answering, instead pacing slowly through the dappled shade.

Sunlight pierced the thick canopy, scattering fragmented gold across her waterfall of hair and flawless face.

Light and shadow danced on her features, softening her usual commanding aura into something almost playful.

Suddenly, she turned to him with a smile. “Do you think I’m happy?”

Yun Mingxin ruffled his hair, then gripped his thighs hard.

He hated these questions.

Call her unhappy? She was a prodigy with a doctorate, an impeccable lineage, and stunning beauty.

Call her happy? Such perfection surely hid crushing pressures—why else ask?

This time, he shook his head gently. “I’m sorry. We don’t know each other well enough for me to answer that.”

“No… we don’t,” she murmured softly.

*You might learn the truth someday.*

Straightening her clothes, she closed her eyes. When they opened, her demeanor had shifted—back to the poised elegance of their first meeting.

More beautiful, yet less real.

A mask. A shield over her heart.

Yun Mingxin disliked it. It felt hollow. Monotonous.

“Let’s go,” she declared, striding toward the grove’s edge with long, measured steps.

Her tone remained warm, polite.

But something had changed. An invisible wall now stood between them.

If ignored, it would only grow thicker.

*Should I act?*

Logically, keeping distance made sense. She was his teacher—a woman from a world far beyond his reach.

Yet he couldn’t let go.

He’d always been like this: obsessing over things others dismissed.

As a child, while classmates memorized “alpha, delta, sigma,” he’d fixated on why the letter “a” was called “alpha.”

What did the name *mean*?

His grades suffered while he chased irrelevant questions.

Now, he obsessed over her.

They shared only two connections: organizer and contest winner.

So why did her coolness ache?

He wasn’t some playboy. Pretty admirers had confessed before—he’d always refused.

But with Kujou Yukihime… it was different.

Not just because she was breathtakingly beautiful.

Because she was *real*.

She’d used little tricks to win his acceptance, quietly shifting how they addressed each other.

Regal yet mischievous.

Her courtesy carried genuine warmth—a kindness he felt as a person. That’s why he’d agreed to her office request.

Sharing names wasn’t trivial.

If she saw worth in ordinary him… why resist?

“Wait!”

Yun Mingxin’s voice cut through the rustling leaves.

She’d already stepped halfway into the sunlight.

“I may not know your answer,” he said, flashing a bright smile. “But I can fix the problem.”

“Let me be your true friend. Then you won’t need to worry anymore.”

Kujou Yukihime whirled around, urgency flashing in her eyes.

She stared at his earnest face, frozen.

Seconds stretched.

Then, slowly, she smiled.

“Okay.”

Half in sunlight, half in shadow, her breathtaking smile outshone the fractured gold around her.