"Hmm? Ah, yes. My husband will be opening a branch store soon, so we’ll be short-staffed here. Plus, I’ll have Xiao Qing to look after…" Xiao Qing’s mother explained with a smile, half-joking, half-serious. "What’s up, little girl? Interested? Though you should still be in school—you probably don’t have the time."

"Do you think… I could do it?" Silver Bell asked earnestly.

"Of course you can."

"Then… I’d like to apply for this job."

"Hmm~ A weekend part-time role? That could work."

"Full-time. I’m not going to school."

"Not in school?" Xiao Qing’s mother paused, studying Silver Bell anew. Something seemed to click. She asked carefully, "Are your parents not around?"

"Mm."

"Got it. Salary’s one thousand a month. Lunch included—and all the pastries here are free to eat."

"Okay." Silver Bell agreed without hesitation. "Starting next Monday?"

"Sure. But it might be tough."

"No problem."

"Heh~ You carry yourself so confidently, little girl. Almost like a boy," Xiao Qing’s mother chuckled behind her hand.

Silver Bell gave an awkward smile, shifting uncomfortably.

"Huh? Silver Bell, you’re taking a job?" Yue Feather whispered beside her.

"Mm. Your allowance is running low too," she replied matter-of-factly.

"We’d still have enough for both of us…" Yue Feather mumbled, avoiding her eyes.

"You’re still growing. Skimping won’t do."

Yue Feather fell silent. Her relentless care left him flustered—like she was the sister he’d never had. *Only a real sister would worry this much*, he thought, not for the first time.

*Maybe I should find a way to earn money too…*

"What?"

"Ah, nothing." Yue Feather shook his head, turning to Xiao Qing’s parents. "Uncle, Auntie, Xiao Qing—we’ll head off now."

"Come play again soon!" Xiao Qing’s mother called warmly.

It was Friday—quiet for now. But on weekends, Zhongshan Park would flood with visitors. The ice cream shop beside it would burst at the seams, mostly with couples splurging freely. Unlike big-city parks that charged entry fees, Zhongshan was free. Lush groves of bamboo and trees made it a favorite for lovers.

Silver Bell led Yue Feather to a riverside path in the park’s heart. Crimson koi darted through the water, tails flicking up droplets that caught the sunset’s glow before plunging back down, carefree.

"Feeling better?" Silver Bell turned to him, eyes crinkling as she smiled. Even squinting, she was stunning.

That thought flashed first in Yue Feather’s mind before he snapped back. "Better? I’ve been… fine all along."

"Hmm? Not upset at all?" Silver Bell tilted her head.

"Why would I be?"

"Your grades…"

"Oh, that…" A flicker of shadow crossed his face. "At first, maybe a little…"

"And later?"

"Later…" He stole a glance at her watching the sunset, then grinned like a fool. He remembered her cheerful call after school, the breathtaking sight of her that morning when he’d first opened his eyes… *Why sulk over one bad test?* The crushing weight of others’ laughter and his own shame had lifted—just like that. *Probably because Silver Bell’s here.*

"Hmm?" She pressed for an answer.

Yue Feather wiped the silly grin away. "Nothing. Just… my mood improved suddenly."

She didn’t believe him. But she said nothing, only watching the sun sink lower.

He didn’t ask why they were watching the sunset. He just stood beside her in silence.

Golden light spilled over Silver Bell’s profile. Flawless. Distant. Like a goddess glimpsed from the mortal earth. His heart clenched—somewhere between longing and resignation.

The buildings blocked the final dip of the sun, but they stayed until full dark.

"Let’s go home," Silver Bell said, rising.

"Mm. Hey—what were you thinking about earlier?"

"Just… things." She flashed him a radiant smile over her shoulder.

Time froze. All Yue Feather saw was the warmth in that smile.

…

*"Nothing. Just my mood improved suddenly."* That’s what Yue Feather told me beside the river.

*This guy. Still pretending to be strong.*

I wanted to shout: *I’m you from the future! I know exactly what you’re hiding!* But if I shattered his fragile pride now, all my efforts to rebuild his confidence would crumble. So I pretended to watch the sunset. *Why can’t you just be honest?*

Funny how you never spot your own flaws until you’re outside them. This stubbornness of his—it grated on me now. *Always swallowing pain alone. What’s the point?*

I almost spoke up midway. But the quiet felt right. Let him mend himself. The setting sun had a way of calming storms—especially mine.

We didn’t exchange a word until night fell. But his shoulders looked lighter. *Good. Self-healing is best.* I wasn’t sure if dragging him out today helped… but at least he wasn’t alone this time. Unlike last time.

I’d tweaked history again. What would this tiny butterfly effect change?

*Why don’t time travelers fix the past?* I wondered. *Is time unchangeable? Or do we just split realities?* Parallel worlds… Who knew? But instinct whispered: altering timelines wasn’t simple. I’d probably just birthed a new branch of reality.

*Does it matter?* I thought, chopping vegetables later. *As long as this world feels real.*

Cooking still felt foreign—years of takeout hadn’t prepared me. But after days of practice, I moved with surprising ease. *Maybe I’ve got chef talent?* (Just kidding.)

My mind always raced ahead: next hour, tomorrow, next week. Tomorrow mattered. It was my birthday. *His* birthday.

I hadn’t celebrated since my first year with my adoptive mother. Once, I bought myself a cake. It only deepened the loneliness.

Celebrating wouldn’t fix everything. But small moments like this shaped him slowly. I’d be patient. At the very least, he’d know he wasn’t alone. At the very least, some light might reach him.

Later, reviewing the day, a chill hit me.

I’d missed it completely—as if that memory had been erased.

Ji Fan. Today, he’d stared at me like I was a stranger. But we’d met days ago—he’d seen me when those thugs attacked. Yue Feather’s bandaged arm was proof.

Yet Ji Fan acted like I’d never existed that day.

*Impossible.*

Yue Feather showed no particular reaction, as if this were perfectly normal.

Ji Fan might have forgotten, leaving a sliver of possibility, but with Yue Feather forgetting too, it became utterly impossible.

As the one directly involved, he must recall that I was present back then—that I’d greeted Ji Fan and the others, and we’d gotten to know each other.

The gravest issue was Ji Fan greeting me as if we’d just met. I hadn’t felt a hint of confusion—even in my heart, it felt like our first encounter in this body.

Just then, that freshly recalled memory began to blur. I strained to cling to it desperately, keeping it from vanishing, but it still grew hazy.

Maybe I’d just been overthinking lately, jumbling my memories?

Or perhaps…

Because I shouldn’t exist in this timeline, its self-repair mechanism was rejecting me?

Compared to the first idea, this possibility felt far more likely.

Did that mean I could vanish at any moment?

With no options left, I could only pray for the timeline to stabilize—or to overlook me, a minor figure who’d altered another minor figure’s life path.