September was called "late autumn" in ancient times. Logically, it should have been a bit chilly by now. But since it was still early in the month, the weather remained muggy. Only the mornings brought cool breezes. That comfortable temperature lasted until around nine o'clock.

I rolled over and silenced the blaring alarm clock. Struggling to open my eyes, I saw it was already six.

At Yinghua, 7:30 to 8:00 AM was morning reading time—a grace period for latecomers. Arriving early meant self-study; showing up late wasn’t a big deal.

Xiaoxi, in her third year of junior high, had far less free time than I did. Every day, I cooked breakfast first, then woke her up.

"Xiaoxi! Xiaoxi!" I shook her shoulder to rouse her.

"Wake up! Hurry!" I only left after confirming her eyes were open. After all, it had happened before: I called, she answered, I left—and she fell back asleep.

Later, when Xiaoxi still hadn’t come out, I assumed she was changing. But peeking in, I found her sprawled on her back, limbs wide—no trace of ladylike behavior. We both ended up late that day. Now, I wouldn’t dare leave until I saw her eyes wide open, watching me. I feared a repeat.

I reached school at 7:20 AM. Few classmates were there yet. On the way up, students occasionally pointed and whispered. No surprise—yesterday’s incident had caused a huge stir. The Tieba photos were so clear you could see the pimples on my face. Avoiding attention was impossible.

But there was good news: the class wasn’t reacting as strongly as yesterday. Xia Tong’s video must have worked. At least no one mistook us for a couple anymore, saving us trouble.

"Ye Xi!"

Just as the morning bell rang, Zhou Qi slipped into the classroom and greeted me.

"I thought you’d be even later," I teased.

"So Xia Tong wasn’t really confessing to you? I was shocked when you left yesterday!" True to form, Zhou Qi cut straight to the chase. Some classmates turned to watch my reaction. I ignored them.

"Yeah, just a misunderstanding. We cleared it up face-to-face yesterday."

"What a shame! You don’t know—" Zhou Qi started, but our homeroom teacher clicked in on high heels. He turned away.

"During this morning reading break, let’s discuss class rules..." Teacher Wang droned on. When mentioning the no-dating rule, she kept glancing at me—intentionally or not.

After first period, Zhou Qi leaned closer.

"Ye Xi, know Fang Xuan?"

"Never heard of him. A celebrity?"

"No, no." Zhou Qi waved his hand. "Remember that blond guy I pointed out at the meeting? The one who ranked second in the high school entrance exam?"

"Oh? What about him?"

"Last night, after Xia Tong posted that video, he confessed to her on Tieba!" He pulled out his phone. "Look!"

I hadn’t checked Tieba since showing it to Xiaoxi. The post already had over two hundred replies.

I skimmed Fang Xuan’s post. Literary-wise, the wording was flowery and elegant. But my mom or Xiaoxi would just call it "pretentious."

"How can anyone say such cringy stuff? It gave me goosebumps! Does he even hear himself? Fang Xuan’s something else—in every sense."

"No wonder you’re single! Guys find it awkward, but girls might love it. That’s romance." Zhou Qi scrolled the replies. "See? Girls are confessing to him too!"

"Then, esteemed love guru, do you have a girlfriend?" I shot back.

Zhou Qi’s head drooped instantly. "No! Do girls just dislike guys like me? Feel my muscles—they’re reassuring!" He thrust his arm at me.

"Cut it out. If you make strangers grope you on sight, I wouldn’t talk to you either—as a girl."

"But Fang Xuan’s public confession? He’s fearless. No one stops him?"

"Tieba’s run by alumni—they ignore this. Teachers won’t bother; at most, a scolding. It’s not serious! He just looks bold."

I disagreed. His "confession" wasn’t for Xia Tong—it targeted guys crushing on her. Many would back off, seeing him as competition. Fewer rivals.

After all, being forcibly kissed? My heart wasn’t calm. Xia Tong hadn’t forced a choice, giving me time. But I still didn’t know how to reject her. Dating felt like thankless work now.

...

...

Class 1-A.

During break, Xia Tong sat quietly at her desk, book in hand. The boy standing before her was undeniably handsome. He flashed a textbook-perfect warm smile.

"Classmate Xia Tong, I’m Fang Xuan. Pleased to meet you." He extended his hand for a handshake.

Xia Tong frowned. She glanced up at him, then looked down.

"If you’re just greeting me, leave—you’re blocking the light. If you want friendship, sorry. I don’t befriend boys." Her voice was icy, keeping him at arm’s length.

Onlookers nearby knew about last night’s Tieba confession. Everyone understood why he’d approached her. Seeing Fang Xuan rejected, they relished the drama. He noticed the whispers and flushed.

"Classmate Xia Tong, you joke well. I won’t disturb you further. If you need help, I’m always willing." Fang Xuan returned to his seat, seemingly unfazed by the murmurs.

"Disgusting," Xia Tong muttered under her breath after he left. She brushed hair from her eyes, acting as if nothing happened.

...

...

Monday to Friday flew by.

Classes 1-A, 1-B, and the four liberal arts/science experimental classes for grades 11–12 occupied a separate three-story building—ensuring a "focused study environment."

All week, I spotted Xia Tong on campus a few times. We exchanged no words, passing like strangers. I often wondered: which was the real Xia Tong?

Days passed, and no one discussed us anymore. Everything seemed to be settling as I’d hoped...

Friday dinner. My phone buzzed—a text from Xia Tong.

"Meet me at downtown park tomorrow at 10 AM. If you don’t come, I’ll visit your house. :)"

That smiley face read like a threat. She was terrifying in every sense. I had zero doubt she’d show up if I skipped—she absolutely would.

"Bro, what’s that?" Xiaoxi leaned in to peek at my phone.

"Oh! Nothing—I’m out of credit!" I pocketed it quickly.

"Speaking of which, I’m almost out too!" Xiaoxi said, biting her chopsticks.

"Yeah, yeah. I’ll pay yours later. Eat now."

"Oh! Thanks so much~~" She mimicked a deep voice, half-laughing.

She was richer than me, yet eyeing my savings.

After showering, I tossed in bed. Days had passed with Xia Tong and me avoiding each other—not a single word exchanged. Why meet tomorrow? I couldn’t figure it out.

Meanwhile, Xia Tong lay in bed, staring at the "read" receipt on her message. Her face flushed crimson. She clutched her phone, rolling wildly on the sheets. Muffled screams escaped as she buried her face in the blanket. If her classmates saw this, their jaws would drop. Was this the same aloof, untouchable girl who kept everyone at bay?