"For this geometry problem, just draw a dashed line here and mark two symbols—it’ll solve itself…"

"Formulas matter—a lot. Let me write them in for you…"

"Hmm? What the heck? Does your school even test this? Lemme check first…"

A discreet air conditioner hummed cool air. The front windows gleamed spotless under bright daylight, illuminating half the floor. Bookshelves stood in neat, staggered rows, dust motes drifting lazily in the sunbeams.

Silence filled the library. Everyone was lost in their own pages. Scattered readers sat at long tables. Mo Xuan and Tian Sirui settled into a corner spot and spread out the test papers.

To explain clearly, Mo Xuan sat shoulder-to-shoulder with his neighbor. So close he caught the faint, sweet scent of her hair.

*Good thing I showered and washed my hair this morning…* he thought, *or I’d be too embarrassed sitting this near a girl.*

He paused briefly, then refocused on the paper.

Tian Sirui listened quietly, eyes locked on Mo Xuan’s pen and scratch paper, her delicate brows slightly furrowed.

Academically, the gap between them was real. Even in Qingyuan High’s monthly exams, he ranked top two hundred—not a straight-A student, but miles ahead of her class’s pretentious "honor students."

And he never crammed or pulled all-nighters. That alone made her admire him.

This close, she saw the line of his collarbone. He was deep in the problem set—lips moving faintly, gaze sharp, thick lashes blinking softly, his dark eyes clear and bright. Unconsciously, she drifted.

From the first time she saw him, Tian Sirui knew he was handsome—not delicately cute, not softly pretty. Mo Xuan’s features were clean and balanced, radiating warmth. His tall, solid frame felt safe. Qualities no other boy had.

Truth was, she never understood why classmates screamed over Korean idols. She’d compare them to Mo Xuan… and quietly decide her neighbor had far more masculine charm.

Of course, she’d never say it—not just fearing those fluttering butterflies would notice him, but because her own standing in class wasn’t exactly enviable.

Lost in thought, her mind wandered further.

Mid-explanation, Mo Xuan suddenly stopped. Tian Sirui’s expression looked off—like she was dozing.

Her blush snapped her back.

*Whoa. I talked too fast, too long.* He checked the time—nearly two hours.

No wonder she couldn’t absorb it all. Even in class it’s tough; from him, worse.

"Tired? Wanna take a break?"

She nodded quickly, cheeks warm with guilt. *He gave up his time to help me… and my mind wandered.*

No chairs lined the walls—only built-in sofas, soft and inviting. Perfect for resting a tired brain.

They sank back against library pillows, letting their thoughts unwind.

Tian Sirui stared at the white ceiling, gaze drifting to a nearby shelf. "Mo Xuan?"

"Hmm?"

"Isn’t the joint sports meet coming up soon?"

Hands behind his head, Mo Xuan paused, calculated, then nodded firmly.

"Yeah. Starts right after National Day."

"Time flies… already third year," she sighed, smiling faintly. "At least another five-day break."

She caught his helpless grin.

"*You’ll* get five days off—if you didn’t sign up," he said wryly, tapping his nose. "*I’ll* probably be busy all five."

"Eh? Why?"

"Our class isn’t athletic. Barely anyone signs up—homeroom pushes them. And us ‘strong laborers’? Zero escape."

"Plus, the final event’s the basketball tournament. I’m on the team. Think they’ll let me skip?"

"But we’re seniors… is it wise to spend time on this?" she worried.

"School cut senior quotas," he waved calmly. "And Qingyuan High hasn’t won basketball in two years. This is my last shot. My last chance. No way I’m backing down."

Seeing his solemn resolve—and remembering fragments he’d once shared—Tian Sirui’s eyes dimmed. A quiet ache settled in her chest.

"You’ll do great. I believe you’ll lead them to victory."

"Hehe, I’ll take that luck!" Mo Xuan grinned, slipping back into his usual playful tone. "So… you’ll come cheer for me?"

Just a casual remark to him. But Tian Sirui’s expression shifted—a flicker of unspoken worry.

She *wanted* to go. To watch him sweat on court, move with confident grace, dominate the game. To cheer beside other girls.

But the tournament would be at Qingyuan High—a place she’d never been. No one there but him.

Going alone to a strange campus terrified her. Surrounded by students in unfamiliar uniforms… all eyes turning her way… her legs would shake just imagining it.

Asking him to bring her? The words stuck. He’d be swamped—how could he watch her?

Would she trail behind him like a shadow? What if someone misunderstood?

Oblivious to her stormy thoughts, Mo Xuan reached for his water bottle—empty.

"Refilling. Want some?"

She shook her head—half left.

He headed off, planning a quick restroom stop.

The water dispenser stood by the restroom door, crowded with bottles. Mo Xuan found a gap after searching.

Just as he turned toward the restroom—*zip, relieve*—soft footsteps echoed from inside.

Hands in pockets, he stepped aside.

So did the other person.

*Thud.* They collided.

"Whoa—!" Mo Xuan jolted.

Instinctively, his hands shot out to brace—but the soft, springy feel made his brain short-circuit. *If I’m not wrong… that’s a girl’s…*

*Oh no. Oh no no no.*

He snapped upright, palms pressed together, bowing deeply.

Silence. No gasp. No protest. Just eerie quiet.

*What…?*

Heart pounding, he glanced up—and froze.

Yun… Yun Jiumo?

*Weekend. Library. Restroom door. How?!*

Coincidences piled up, leaving him speechless.

Her gaze swept him head to toe, slow and surgical. Mo Xuan hugged his chest and shrank back.

"F-fancy meeting you here, Yun Jiumo," he stammered, sweat beading.

A faint smile touched her lips.

*Please don’t smile. Seriously. Your smile scares me.*

He forced a grin, jumping in before she could speak: "You’re here too?"

*(Duh.)*

Yun Jiumo simply nodded—graceful, unhurried—crimson lips parting.

"Mm."

Nothing more.

But she didn’t move. Mo Xuan knew this wasn’t over.

Sure enough, she spoke first:

"Are you alone?"