Here again!

Mo Xuan’s eyes twitched slightly as he held his breath.

A tall, slender girl sat on the swing—beautiful, clad in Qingyuan High School’s uniform. Her top parted at the sides, revealing a snow-white shirt beneath, her chest forming a soft, gentle curve. Her white canvas shoes rested on the grass, toes lightly tapping the ground. She lifted her heels back just a little, swinging the seat into a low arc before gliding forward again. Back and forth. Again and again. Never tiring.

Yet all this time, she kept her head bowed, gaze fixed on the earth. Jet-black hair spilled over her cheeks; her swaying side-swept bangs hid her expression.

But Mo Xuan recognized her instantly—it was Yun Jiumo.

He stood hidden behind lush foliage, mouth agape. After a long moment, he slowly closed it. A wry smile finally surfaced on his face.

Had he met Yun Jiumo anywhere else, he might not have blinked. But here—seeing her swinging alone like this—a strange emotion welled up inside him. An indescribable feeling surged restlessly in his chest, leaving him unsettled.

No wonder. This park was where they first met. Back then, in his first year at Qingyuan High, Yun Jiumo had sat on this very swing—alone, swaying gently, back and forth.

Nearly fifty classmates were still strangers then. Most kept their distance, wary. Only a few naturally outgoing students had found friends; the rest guarded their own quiet corners. Mo Xuan bonded first with Yang Jie, then a few like-minded guys. Soon, their eyes turned to the girls—not chasing romance, just adolescent appreciation. A pleasant face nearby always made studying or chores feel lighter.

Yun Jiumo caught everyone’s attention immediately. Naturally stunning, her name spread schoolwide by day one. Whispers followed: *Class One got a goddess.* But she was aloof—kept everyone at arm’s length. Boys who fancied themselves social butterflies tried chatting her up. All returned defeated, mocked by peers. Watching them fail, Mo Xuan abandoned bold moves. He’d wait. Plan long-term.

He never expected to run into her that weekend. Tired from wandering, he ducked into this small park to rest—and saw her. Alone on the swing.

At first, he didn’t recognize her. His eyes were drawn purely to her long, fair, slender legs. She wore a casual off-shoulder top and a blue-and-white mini skirt, utterly unconcerned about displaying those straight, snow-white limbs. To swing smoothly, she’d occasionally tuck her legs up—smooth skin, perfectly shaped lines holding Mo Xuan’s gaze until he forgot to walk.

He felt shy at first. Then thought: *If she doesn’t care, why should I hide?* He sat down openly and kept watching.

Sensing his stare, the girl slowly lifted her head. Their eyes met. In that instant, Mo Xuan realized her face was even more beautiful than her legs. Only then did he recognize her—Yun Jiumo from his class…

…

The details of that day had blurred with time, but the scene remained vivid. From then on, Mo Xuan developed a soft spot for swings. He’d insist: *A girl on a swing is pure poetry.* Later, he admitted—it was ninety percent Yun Jiumo.

He parted the leaves. His Adam’s apple bobbed.

Yun Jiumo gripped the swing chains, her eyes still as stagnant water—no trace of emotion.

Suddenly, like radar locking onto a target, her gaze snapped toward the bushes. From her rose-red eyes shot two sharp beams, pinning the spot behind the foliage.

A chill raced down Mo Xuan’s spine—the eerie crawl of a venomous snake. He saw her eyes. Staring straight at him.

No slipping away now. Her look said it all: *Run or ignore me, and you’ll regret it.*

He swallowed hard, forced a sheepish grin—the kind caught peekers wear—and walked toward her, schoolbag in hand.

Yun Jiumo didn’t move, but stopped swinging. She lifted her graceful neck, gaze focused yet tender.

That look made Mo Xuan uneasy. Why was she looking at him like that?

A stone bench sat opposite the swing. Mo Xuan sat, elbows on knees, bent slightly forward. Less than two meters apart. Time slipped quietly between them.

Mo Xuan broke the silence.

“Haven’t headed home yet?” He smiled.

Yun Jiumo tilted her head toward the Porsche parked nearby, a gentle smile blooming. “Haven’t swung here in ages. Just feeling nostalgic.”

“What about you? School ended a while ago.”

“Got hungry. Grabbed something at the snack street.” Grease glistened faintly at the corner of his mouth—proof enough.

Yun Jiumo looked away, smile unchanged.

Sometimes Mo Xuan couldn’t explain it. Yun Jiumo and Shen Bingyao were both quiet types—but being with them felt worlds apart. With Shen Bingyao, silence bred discomfort. With Yun Jiumo? He could nap on her lap under the sun all day, wordless, worry-free. He once read: *Destined souls feel at ease together, even in silence.* He’d clutched that line like gospel—written just for them. If only she’d meet him halfway… he’d be truly happy.

“The final year’s here,” Yun Jiumo murmured, fingers tracing the chains. “Thought about where you’re headed?”

Mo Xuan shrugged. He hadn’t really. Barring surprises, he’d score mediocre again—like last life—and attend a decent-but-not-elite university. There, he’d meet Shen Bingjing and Shen Bingyao, her legs slowly healing. Maybe Yun Jiumo would follow. Maybe this question was a test. No need to answer truthfully.

“Still figuring it out. But with my grades? A decent uni’s still possible.”

He plucked a weed, avoiding her eyes.

Where he dodged, Yun Jiumo’s gaze deepened. She heard the evasion. Felt the distance.

*Brushing me off.*

This was bad. Very bad.

Not tracking his thoughts was like a sailor losing his map—sailing blind. Too easy for him to slip through her fingers.

Had he decided already? His choice? Or someone’s whisper?

Her pupils tightened. Teeth clenched—*click, click*.

Mo Xuan remained oblivious, plucking weed after weed.

Seeing this, Yun Jiumo couldn’t stay seated. Couldn’t linger in memories of his laugh, his face. She released the chains and stood.

“Heading back?” Mo Xuan rose too.

“Mm. Time to review lessons.” She smiled—rosy cheeks, crimson lips, eyes like morning stars: gentle, captivating.

“Same here.” He exhaled quietly behind her back. *Just a chance meeting. Nothing more.*

At first glance, she seemed normal—aloof, hard to approach, but otherwise an ordinary girl.

*How did she become… that?*

With a sigh woven with sentiment, Mo Xuan turned and walked ahead.

Behind him, Yun Jiumo halted without a sound. She stared at his retreating back, eyes narrowing slowly.

*This isn’t how it was.*

Mo Xuan didn’t notice—or forgot.

Before, whenever their paths aligned, he’d walk beside her. Always half a step behind. *So I’d never lose sight of you,* he’d say.

Now? He strode ahead, back turned, steps light and free—as if unshackled, stepping into open sky.

The girl stood rooted, watching him fade. Fists clenched tight.

*You really have changed, Xuan.*

A faint crimson glimmer surfaced in her eyes.