As they waited, more students crowded at the classroom door. The exam start time crept closer.

Finally, invigilators unlocked the door with keys. Students, weary from standing, surged inside like a wave.

With just minutes left before the exam, tension peaked—especially for Yue Feather, desperate to test his recent efforts.

The pre-exam classroom buzzed softly. Students chatted with friends to ease their nerves.

Even this ordinary final exam felt heavy. Yue Feather couldn’t imagine the pressure of Gaokao.

He gently tapped Zhan Qi’s shoulder. “Oh, I forgot earlier,” he whispered. “Happy belated birthday.”

“Th-thanks…” Zhan Qi’s face flushed crimson, even redder than when Ji Fan had wished her.

Yue Feather scratched his head, puzzled but shrugging it off. He needed to focus on the exam.

First up was Chinese—the longest test, thanks to the essay.

Day one always meant humanities, Yue Feather’s weakest subjects. He dreaded it.

The 150-minute slot felt generous, yet he worried about finishing the essay.

“Ugh… I envy those who write essays in one go,” he groaned, eyeing the dense grid paper.

For someone who agonized ten minutes over a hundred words, an 800-word essay was torture.

He’d tackle the essay first. For weak Chinese students, it was the make-or-break section. Finish it, scrape through basics, and he’d barely pass.

Chinese was easy to pass but hard to ace.

The essay prompt was cliché: write about gratitude.

Skilled writers hated such tired topics. But Yue Feather welcomed the formula—he’d practiced a similar one. Just tweak and copy. Smooth sailing.

The essay didn’t stump him. But the basics did—spotting grammatical errors, filling in ancient poetry blanks.

He knew most verses by heart, yet blanked on characters. Utterly frustrating.

“Ahem…” Yue Feather coughed lightly, craning his neck to peek at Zhan Qi’s paper. Her body blocked the view. He couldn’t risk the invigilator noticing. Headache.

“Screw it… skip the blanks,” he muttered, pushing on. By the time he neared the end, most classmates had finished too.

Thirty minutes remained—the hardest stretch. Top students double-checked; others napped.

Yue Feather never reviewed work. He hated rereading his own writing. Even after losing points repeatedly, he refused to change. Stubborn, in his own way.

With most done, the room grew noisy. Yue Feather seized the chance. He poked Zhan Qi’s back lightly. She stiffened, then shifted aside, revealing her entire paper.

Unexpectedly smooth teamwork.

“Angel…” he whispered gratefully. “Way better than the class rep…”

Last finals, the rep had refused his cheating plea and shielded her paper fiercely.

“Tch, stingy. Zhan Qi’s generous…” he mumbled, squinting at her tiny handwriting. Distance made copying tough, but higher scores were worth it.

After Chinese, students returned to their homerooms. A long break followed—lunch, then afternoon English.

Yue Feather finished what he could, then copied bits of Zhan Qi’s answers. Not all—he feared suspiciously high scores and teacher scrutiny. His English barely scraped passing anyway.

A one-day exam stretched over two. He knew it was for rest, but he’d prefer it done fast. Dragging it out was agony.

Finally, exams ended. Everyone exhaled. Results would take a week—a safe buffer to unwind, no matter the outcome.

“Shouldn’t be too bad… even with copying Zhan Qi’s…” Yue Feather muttered on his walk home. “Next time, no cheating. Gotta see my real score… Yeah. Never again…”

Head down in self-reproach, he nearly slammed into a lamppost. Passersby stared. He quickened his pace, cheeks burning.

“STORE-WIDE LUCKY DRAW! DISCOUNTS UP TO 90% OFF!” A blaring speaker jolted him. He glanced at the source—a women’s boutique he passed daily. Usually quiet, today it swarmed with young women.

Just another sale. He looked away, uninterested.

But after a few steps, he doubled back.

“Women’s clothes…?” Yue Feather hesitated, eyeing the female shoppers. He’d long wanted to buy Silver Bell an outfit. His wallet held only ¥100 from homework gigs—not enough for decent quality. He’d wear cheap stall gear himself, but never for her. Loving someone meant sacrificing for them.

“Maybe… try? If the discount’s deep…” he whispered, steeling himself to enter.

“Sir, shopping for someone?” A cheerful clerk approached. “We’re having a sale—perfect for girlfriend gifts!”

“Uh… y-yeah…” Yue Feather forced a grin. “For my girlfriend…”

Surrounded by women and frilly clothes, he felt painfully out of place.

“Try our lucky draw first! Big discounts if you’re lucky.”

“Okay…” He fumbled in the box, pulling a crumpled slip.

“Wow! You won 10% off! What’s your girlfriend’s height and weight? We’ll pick sizes.”

“About… 160cm? 45kg?” He guessed roughly. Should be close.

“Great build for many styles! Pick your favorites here…”

Racks of dresses, skirts, and lingerie overwhelmed him. Perfume from shoppers made him dizzy.

“I… want a full set.”

“A full set? Including underwear?”

“Y-yes…” His face burned crimson.

She guided him to two color-varied outfits—perfect for Silver Bell’s laundry days.

He waited nervously as she totaled the bill. Store discounts could be sneaky—inflate prices first, then “slash” them.

Thankfully, this shop was honest. The 10% off stunned him: ¥420 for both sets.

“Original price ¥4,000!” she chirped. “Bargain, right? Want more?”

“N-no…” Yue Feather swallowed hard, slowly pulling out his wallet.

This month's living allowance had just arrived. Though he'd spent a bit, adding it to his previous earnings barely covered his needs—but after this, no more funds would come.

This meant Yue Feather had to land a job ASAP, or he'd barely survive the month. Silver Bell had a salary, but as a man, he preferred not to touch a girl's money unless absolutely desperate.

Buying gifts for someone you adore is always worth it.

It might sting a little, yet it still brought him joy.

So Yue Feather gritted his teeth and finally bought the two outfits.

"I hope... she'll like them..."