In the following matches, Jiang Xuehan captained every game. Wu De obeyed her commands like a loyal dog. Their duo won three consecutive victories—a rare winning streak for Wu De that set his blood boiling. He was ready to keep chasing the thrill of victory with the girl he admired.

Unfortunately, the girl wasn’t impressed. She stood up from her chair. "Time’s up. I need to start my shift here. Are you staying to play or heading back to campus?"

"I... I should probably head back..."

After Wu De settled his bill and left, Jiang Xuehan put on the standard-issue red cap and apron. Worry flickered in her mind.

Wu De’s gaming skills were merely average—typical internet café level. Today’s wins came easy only because they’d faced weaker opponents in low-tier matches. But the upcoming university tournament in half a month would draw real experts. Winning then wouldn’t be so simple.

Her shift leader, Li Xiuxiu, sidled over with a mischievous grin. "Xiao Han, be honest—what’s your relationship with that tall guy earlier?"

"What relationship? Just classmates. If anything, we’re in the same club."

"Ohhh~~~" Li Xiuxiu drew out the syllable, eyes gleaming. "You might think that, but he definitely doesn’t! You were too focused on the game to notice—he didn’t look at you like you were just a classmate."

Jiang Xuehan knew this all too well. After living eighteen years as a boy—Meng Han—she could spot a guy’s hidden feelings for a girl instantly. But now, she had to pretend ignorance. She needed Wu De as her teammate for the university tournament to win the prize money. Worse, her entire identity relied on the documents he’d forged. If he got angry and exposed her to the school, she’d be sleeping on the streets again.

The safest move was to play dumb. Let this fragile balance hold. At least until they didn’t have to face each other in shame.

Silver Moon Internet Café, nestled near campus in the downtown area, had built a solid reputation over the years. Most customers were well-behaved—no troublemakers or thieves targeting gaming gear.

Jiang Xuehan finished her shift smoothly but didn’t return to her dorm. Instead, she took a bus to a remote cemetery on the city’s outskirts. She needed to talk to her mother.

Four years ago today, an accident had closed her mother’s eyes forever. For over two months afterward, Meng Han had moved like a lifeless puppet—listless in class, crouched on street corners after school, hollow as a corpse. Only after he and his sister wept together at their mother’s grave on New Year’s Eve did Meng Han finally step out of the shadows.

Though the boy Meng Han was gone, Jiang Xuehan carried every memory, every feeling. No matter her body changed, family remained family.

Her mother’s grave lay in this distant cemetery—a journey requiring multiple bus transfers from downtown. By the time Jiang Xuehan arrived, night had fallen. Tombstones stood cold and lonely in the darkness.

She found the unassuming grave at the northwest corner with practiced ease. Sitting on the grass before it, her eyes shimmered as she whispered, "Mom, I’m here to see you."

A small black-and-white photo smiled from the tombstone—warm and familiar, yet impossibly far away.

It wasn’t Qingming Festival, and Jiang Xuehan never cared for rituals. She brought no paper money or flowers. She just wanted to sit quietly and talk.

About her year as a top streamer, then the fall from grace. About new friends she’d met these past days. About how much she missed her mother...

Jiang Xuehan rarely cried, even as a child. But since becoming a girl, her tears seemed closer to the surface. Clear droplets gathered in her eyes like a still pond. She held them back, letting them glisten without falling.

*Only cowards cry. I’m not a coward. I won’t show Mom my weakness.*

The cemetery lay utterly silent at night. Only the wind’s whispers and the grass’s sigh carried away the girl’s murmurs like a dream.

In this glittering, indifferent city, perhaps only here could she find peace.

As night deepened, the chill bit through her thin clothes. Her legs, bare below her shorts, grew numb. If she didn’t leave soon, she’d miss the last bus downtown.

"Mom, I’m going. I’ll visit again next year at this time."

She rose, stretching her stiff legs, and walked toward the exit.

Moonlight stretched her shadow long across the graves under a star-speckled sky. Halfway there, she froze.

A familiar tall figure approached, holding flowers. Wind tousled his temples, now frosted white. Deep crow’s feet framed his eyes.

"Dad—" The word almost slipped out.

Meng Jianguo’s heart was heavy, and the dim light hid recognition. He didn’t recall meeting this petite girl in the park just two days ago. He brushed past her, heading straight for the northwest corner.

Jiang Xuehan stopped, watching her father’s stooped, aged back. Her nose stung.

A year ago, on the day she ran away, his temples had only been half-gray. Now they were snow-white.

She didn’t chase him. Didn’t reveal herself. Just like two days ago.

It wasn’t hatred. Old grudges had faded with time.

But pride ran deep in her bones. When she left home, she’d sworn: *I won’t return until I earn my sister’s medical fees.*

Now, nearly penniless, squatting in a dorm on forged papers, earning mere thousands a month—how could she face him? How could she ask for forgiveness?

Meng Jianguo’s figure vanished into the thick night, like a drop of water dissolving into ink. Jiang Xuehan clenched her fists until her knuckles turned bloodless.

*Father, I will earn that money. I’ll send her to America for treatment. And I’ll prove my choice to drop out wasn’t a mistake. I keep my promises.*

Under the night sky, man and girl walked away from each other, backs turned. When they’d meet again was unknown.