Sometimes, a shift in thought happens in the blink of an eye.

Just a second ago, Mo Xuan was silently reciting a calming mantra, urging himself to stay composed—no trouble over this ambiguous misunderstanding.

But the next moment, seeing Yun Jiumo’s smile, he instantly tossed all those thoughts aside.

To others, her smile might’ve been just a friendly greeting—perhaps even to Yun Jiumo herself. But as the saying goes, an unexplained glance or smile invites misinterpretation. Mo Xuan was no exception.

Already irritated and impatient, she *smiled*? *Winked*? What was that supposed to mean?

He knew his next move might be illogical, even reckless—but he simply couldn’t hold back.

Yun Jiumo had been his wife in a past life. In this one, she was the girl he was pursuing. Though they hadn’t started dating yet, a quiet possessiveness naturally lingered between them.

Mo Xuan admitted it: he wasn’t broad-minded. In moments like this, calm observation was impossible.

No one in the bustling cafeteria noticed. As he strode over, students hastily stepped aside—storm clouds darkened his face.

Every passerby shuddered inwardly, wondering if he’d found a fly in his food.

Yun Jiumo had been watching him the entire time.

Since he stood, she hadn’t turned her head, paused eating, or glanced at the boy across from her.

Her rose-red eyes shimmered with unreadable light. The corner of her lips curved into a quietly spreading smile.

The boy noticed her shift. Recognizing that faintly familiar face, his expression changed slightly.

Mo Xuan let out a cold chuckle, gaze locking onto him.

Class One boys sat up straight, eyes wide—a silent fan club ready.

Then Mo Xuan slid onto the bench beside Yun Jiumo, deliberately close.

Tension thickened instantly among the three.

The displeased Discipline Committee boy. Yun Jiumo’s enigmatic smile. Mo Xuan’s forced grin. Glances exchanged, then withdrawn. Silence.

But Mo Xuan never played dumb. Annoyed by their earlier chat, he steered the topic straight to her.

“Rare to see you in the cafeteria. Any reason?”

Elbow propped on the table, cheek cradled in hand, he turned toward her. Voice soft, calm.

Even the boy felt it—unusually tender, like a boyfriend’s gentle reminder.

Yun Jiumo’s focus snapped entirely to Mo Xuan. A faint blush bloomed across her fair cheeks, deepening until her whole face glowed.

She looked softer than usual—like a shy, neighborly girl caught in a tender thought. Eyes lowered slightly, lips parting: “I just felt like eating here today.”

The Discipline Committee boy stared, mind spinning.

*What is this suffocatingly sweet vibe? Why’s this scene unfolding right in front of me?*

Their words sounded normal—but paired with *his* mischievous ease and *her* flustered reply? He felt like an unwelcome third wheel.

*Is she dating someone? No… right?*

*And this guy—wasn’t he the self-appointed cleanup leader last year? How’d he get so bold?*

He gripped his chopsticks tight, bitterness rising. Yet he knew—no matter how hard he tried, he had zero space here.

They acted like they’d planned it. Especially Yun Jiumo: earlier, cold replies of “Mm,” “Oh,” barely glancing up. Now her gaze clung to Mo Xuan like she feared he’d vanish.

Mo Xuan chatted absently with her, watching the boy’s dazed face. Already calculating payback.

*Thanks to him last year, we rushed back home only to clean twice as long. Was it personal? Or just a petty tyrant abusing trivial authority? If so—disgusting. Classic case.*

“Hey, long time no see. How’ve you been?” Mo Xuan smiled, warmth dripping with intent.

The boy shuddered, urge to flee surging.

“You two know each other?” Yun Jiumo’s eyes flickered. A sudden dislike for this boy prickled inside her.

*Why’s he here? Stealing Mo Xuan’s attention?*

“Of course. Remember that external exam sophomore year? We cleaned so thoroughly the classroom stayed spotless for months—praised school-wide.”

Arms crossed, Mo Xuan smiled sweetly. Goal clear: expose this guy’s arrogance. Abuse of power. Tattling. No girl likes that. Once Yun Jiumo knew, she’d barely glance his way again.

The boy’s chopsticks trembled. He wanted to run—but Yun Jiumo’s gaze pinned his legs like lead.

“I recall… teachers praised your effort.”

“We’d *finished*. Ready to leave. But someone demanded stricter standards—more director-like than the director—and called us back.”

“Who?”

The Discipline Committee boy snapped.

*Are you two performing for me? Just say it!*

He saw Mo Xuan’s scheme. Knew his past move was low.

*So what? I’m Student Union. I disliked you. Wanted to hassle you. What’ll you do? Hit me? Try.*

His thin patience frayed. Yun Jiumo’s look made his skin crawl—he knew he was utterly disliked now. Hollow. Lost.

Yet Mo Xuan kept talking, practically wearing “victim” on his sleeve.

“ENOUGH!”

The tray slammed onto the table—*crash!*—silencing the cafeteria.

All eyes locked on them. Boy’s face flushed, breath ragged.

Mo Xuan and Yun Jiumo didn’t flinch.

Just as he teetered on the edge, Class One boys rose in unison.

More stares swiveled their way.

Yang Jie cracked his knuckles, ready to settle scores.

The boy shrank back, slinking into his seat.

In the heavy silence, he flushed deeper, gathered his messy tray, and trudged toward the return station—retreating like a stray dog with its tail tucked.

Mo Xuan looked away. No triumph. No satisfaction.

That incident was a year old. Nearly forgotten.

He’d just felt uneasy seeing the guy sit with Yun Jiumo.

Now he was gone. Unlikely to bother her again. No need to press further.

Leave room. Always.

He turned—and met Yun Jiumo’s gaze.

She watched him silently. Her eyes shimmered, alight with something tender… and unmistakably excited.