The wind on the rooftop whipped fiercely, snapping their school uniforms like sails.

Yang Jie sipped mineral water, leaning on the railing as he gazed down at campus. He clicked his tongue. “She’s mad?”

Curled in the corner, Mo Xuan drank silently, face blank.

He’d almost believed his relationship with Yun Jiumo had reached its end.

On the walk back, Yun Jiumo hadn’t spoken a word. Her expression was grim—darker than ink.

She quickened her pace with every step, fleeing like from a plague. Mo Xuan could barely keep up.

Luckily, he snapped out of it just before rushing after her. Abandoning the irrational urge.

He’d kept his distance on purpose. Grabbing her now would be putting the cart before the horse.

Though worry gnawed at him, he rationalized it away. Head low, he trudged back to class.

Yun Jiumo stayed frozen at her desk all day—through lessons, through breaks—never once glancing his way.

Yang Jie, watching them like a fretful father, grew baffled. Convinced they were in a cold war, he yanked Mo Xuan from class and dragged him straight to the rooftop.

The breeze was gentle. No one around. Perfect for talk.

Facing Yang Jie’s pointed questions, Mo Xuan stayed silent.

Too tangled to explain. Their bond ran deeper than Yang Jie imagined—karmic threads from a past life. Even a master bard couldn’t simplify it.

And right now? Irritation made him avoid the topic entirely.

He gulped water and turned away.

Yang Jie let out a wry smile and sat beside him.

Two boys leaned against the rough wall, lost in separate thoughts.

“You ever notice Yun Jiumo treats you differently?”

“Really? Isn’t she aloof with everyone?”

“Yeah! She smiles more around you. I see it.”

“…Observant.”

“Hey! No ulterior motives—don’t misunderstand!”

“I haven’t said a word. Why so flustered? Protesting too much?”

“Damn it! Do you think I’d—Ugh, don’t derail me!”

Mo Xuan chuckled. He always steered chats off-track. Yang Jie was quick this time.

But today, his usually grinning friend was solemn. Gripping his bottle, Yang Jie asked, “Little brother… do you still like Yun Jiumo?”

“Why so sudden—”

“Don’t ask. Just answer.”

“…”

“Stop. No need. Your eyes gave it away.”

“Then why ask?”

“Curious. We’re brothers, right?” Yang Jie stretched, wistful. “I’m one hundred percent sure: she’s mad at you.”

“You’ve never had a girlfriend. How’s that certain?”

“…Must you rub salt in the wound? What’s that got to do with it?”

“You’d have credibility if you had.”

They locked eyes, neither backing down.

Yang Jie threw up his hands. “Fine! You win. But for your little brother’s sincere plea… big brother, grant me grace to share my humble take?”

“Proceed.”

Yang Jie’s playfulness vanished. His face turned courtroom-serious.

“You’ve chased her two years?”

“Almost three.” *Mo Xuan thought of the past life.*

“Persistent. Noticed any shift in how she treats you?”

Mo Xuan shook his head honestly.

He’d forgotten.

Five years—uni, graduation—had faded memories. High school moments with Yun Jiumo were campus-bound, unremarkable. Nothing etched deep.

Her attitude? Maybe “playing hard to get.”

Simply put: Yun Jiumo strolled ahead leisurely; Mo Xuan chased desperately. When he caught up, she’d let him hold her hand—then walk off. When he tired, ready to quit, she’d pause, glance back, loosen her collar… and he’d chase again.

Ugh. How embarrassing. Was I really that blinded by lust?

Mo Xuan burned with shame.

“I knew it! You missed it.” Yang Jie clapped, eyes sparkling. “You’re inside it. I saw crystal clear.”

“Just ’cause she smiles more at me?”

“Exactly!”

Mo Xuan stood and walked off.

“Waitwaitwait! I’m not done!” Yang Jie latched onto his leg, wailing.

“To think I hoped for you… I’m an idiot.”

“Remember? Yun Jiumo rarely smiles.”

“…So?”

“She’s not outgoing. Carries quiet weight. Maybe childhood shadows made her reserved. And freshman year—didn’t we hear her family wasn’t… happy?”

Mo Xuan fell silent.

Yang Jie’s words stirred nearly forgotten memories.

To outsiders, Yun Jiumo was silver-spoon royalty: chauffeured rides, villa living. A glittering life. All eyes on her wealth, none on her heart.

He remembered their wedding. Barely any guests.

His side? Parents fled abroad long ago. Remembering him was kindness enough. Relatives vanished when his family fell. Estranged forever.

Hers shocked him more. No guests. No parents mentioned. Press twice, she’d say flatly, “They’re busy.” Press again—her crimson lips would silence him.

Honestly? He had no regrets. Decor, gown, vows—all perfect. Only flaw: the crushing solitude.

No classmates came. To Yun Jiumo, any woman near him was a rival. Her possessiveness slowly severed his old ties. Invitations? Impossible.

A new thought surfaced:

Before me… was she always this alone?

Seeing Mo Xuan lost in thought, Yang Jie brightened.

“This means: lacking warmth, she secretly craves care—but that void locks her heart. To her, everyone’s the same. Few earn attention. But once she does? Everything changes.”

“Her smiles around you prove you’re different. Possibilities exist. Even… holding hands.”

Yang Jie, single since birth, swelled with pride, carried away by his own words.

Mo Xuan escaped under “restroom.” Alone in the stall, he recalled their past-life wedding—desolate yet burning—and Yun Jiumo whispering against his ear, fragmented:

“You are my one and only.”

Did “one and only” also mean… he was the only family she had left?