Lu Huai had long since gotten up from the floor and sat on his bed.

Yan Ningning would be home before her parents returned.

Now he was alone again—Lu Huai, who could live independently yet felt uneasy around others.

He liked grading his past performances, setting personal standards.

But whenever he revisited those moments, all that remained was blushing embarrassment and a failing score.

Undeniably a failure.

He always hesitated where he could advance, yet retreated with startling decisiveness.

He sat on the bed, then lay back, staring at the ceiling.

His expression was utterly blank.

His mind spun through a thousand possibilities: *What if I hadn’t looked away? What if a single intimate touch had carried me forward? Even… when she asked if I liked someone—was that a hint? A test?*

*What if… I’d asked if the boy she liked was…*

Life overflowed with "what-ifs," each arriving hand in hand with regret.

The moment you dwell on them, you’re already regretting your choice.

Still… not much to regret. Even given another chance, Lu Huai knew he couldn’t choose the path his mind imagined. In an instant, his thoughts would flood—but his nature, his psyche, would force him toward the worst option.

Yet even now, he found comfort:

Better a short pain than a long one. Time bars the way back… but also wears sorrow thin.

He opened his phone. No new messages. Scrolled his social feed.

Saw Yan Ningning’s post from five minutes ago:

[*"You think I’m chatty and long-winded… but with others, I barely say a word."*]

A sudden palpitation. His traitorous heart hammered. He opened the chat window—typing indicator flashing, no message sent.

Everything in life leaves traces. Except liking someone. That, he couldn’t be sure of.

New semester.

Morning sun blazed, scattering rats from shadowy streets.

Truthfully, Lu Huai felt no different from them—just didn’t scavenge gutters for food.

Unaccustomed to faces, unable to craft clever words, not even catching playful banter.

A background character, easily forgotten in a crowd.

The bus was packed. Too afraid of being late to wait for an empty one.

He hadn’t walked to school with Yan Ningning. A silent agreement to miss each other? Or shame from last night’s blunder? Better to avoid awkward nods in the aisle—leaving scars no one sees. They weren’t in the same class anyway.

Hard to believe two people in a small school could go a whole day without meeting. Yet for Lu Huai, it happened.

He always disembarked last. Maybe the driver shot him an annoyed glance for being slow. Maybe not.

This hypersensitivity seeped everywhere, impossible to contain.

The crowded ride left him drenched. Chuzhou still sweltered like midsummer.

Heat usually eased after National Day… but National Day itself brought inexplicable unease.

He *should* feel grateful for holidays. As a student, he *should* welcome the break.

Yet at school, everyone shared the same rhythm: class, dismissal, home.

During breaks, others enjoyed leisure he couldn’t reach. A faint imbalance lingered.

Crossing the wide plaza, stepping into the stairwell’s shadow—coolness and confinement finally calmed him.

Eyes fixed downward, avoiding gazes.

Others greeted warmly. No one recognized Lu Huai. Or if they did, no reason to acknowledge him. Head bowed, even a nod felt unnecessary.

Classroom door stood open, chatter spilling out. Many had arrived.

Lu Huai walked past the front door, circled to the back entrance—where desks faced away—and slipped in.

Fewer eyes that way.

But one restless student perched on a desk, radiating confidence, ready to chat with anyone… usually talkative, decent-looking…

"Yo! Lu Huai’s here!"

Someone spotted him.

Lu Huai glanced up—met a tall boy’s bright smile.

Offered an awkward but polite smile.

Eyes about to dart away—

The boy leaped down, arms wide, charging.

Probably watched too many hip-hop shows over break. Thought greetings demanded this energy.

"Long time no see! Called you—nothing! C’mere, hug it out~"

Lu Huai knew his type: loved seeming buddy-buddy with everyone.

No malice. Just craving popularity.

Instinct took over: duck head, hunch shoulders, slip under the arms.

The boy stumbled into empty air.

Paused, confused. Turned.

Lu Huai murmured, "Long time no see…"

*Can’t say "I hate this." Sounds like rejection. Might cause trouble. And trouble? I can’t handle it.*

So he avoided it. Always.

The boy was Li Xin. A name some knew from that MOBA game *Honor of Kings*; historically, a Qin general who conquered Yan and Chu. Not that it mattered now.

Li Xin grinned. "Whoa! No man escapes my hug!"

"???"

Lu Huai froze. Arms wide, Li Xin charged again.

Being hugged by a girl? Fantasy. By a guy? Terrifying.

Lu Huai dodged toward the aisle. Whether joking or serious, Li Xin pursued.

Lu Huai—hating attention—now held every gaze… until a calm voice cut through:

"Enough, Li Xin. Nothing better to do? Pouncing like a hungry tiger?"

Relief washed over him. Attention shifted. *Bliss.*

No longer the focus.

The speaker: a girl. Class monitor. Black-rimmed glasses.

Aloof, serene presence.

Tall—nearly his height, definitely taller than Yan Ningning.

In summer uniform, her figure was striking… exceptionally so.

At her age, already a B-cup… maybe more. "Gifted," boys whispered. Lu Huai never judged; he just overheard.

Rating faces, guessing sizes—typical boy talk. Amid endless exams, girls’ vibrant presence was the only color.

"Just kidding…" Li Xin laughed.

Lu Huai had already returned to his desk, bag set down, book open—*look busy*.

The monitor glanced at him, seated by the corridor window. Sunlight bathed him, yet he seemed untouched by warmth… like a youth born from icy seawater.

"Enough. You know he’s different. Respect his boundaries?"

Li Xin scratched his head. "My bad~ I’ll do it again next time!"

"HAHAHA—"

Laughter filled the room. Lu Huai kept his head down, book in hand, utterly out of sync. To others, this might seem like fishing for attention—a "hidden gem" hoping to be found. For Lu Huai? It was simply survival.

Chatter faded as morning study began.

The monitor collected homework. Lu Huai had placed his neatly at his desk’s edge—easy grab, no interaction. Not that he expected any.

Lost in reviewing notes, time blurred. Faint whispers hummed. Sunlight streamed through the window, warm and gentle.

*Tap…*

Something landed beside his hand.

Black-rimmed glasses.

Glasses?

He looked up.

Without her glasses, Lin Xingruo’s face appeared—flawless.

Silky long hair. Bangs swaying near her brows. Soft pink lips parted slightly. Sunlight gilded her profile.

She watched him.

As if holding a story. Whispering softly.