“Such beautiful handwriting…”

“Who wrote this?”

“Probably Jiang Yao…”

“I remember Jiang Yao was in charge of the class bulletin board… Wait, wasn’t she handling the layout? Did she write this?”

“Must be her. Who else in class writes this well? The class monitor?”

“Could it be Lu Huai?”

“No idea…”

“…”

The chatter didn’t last long.

For most, it was trivial—unrelated to studies, let alone daily life.

They’d simply walked in through the back door and noticed the unusually striking blackboard.

No thrilling announcement. No elegant illustration. Just a long passage of text, seemingly an article.

Thanks to the elegant script, a few students paused that morning to read it.

Not some artsy piece… It was about National Day… Something like the usual “Never Forget National Humiliation” style.

Yet appearing in this classroom—clearly not the teacher’s work—it read like an excerpt from a publication.

Classical references, clean paragraphs, carrying a subtle yet stirring power.

Few were sure Lu Huai had written it. Even knowing the handwriting was his, they doubted whether he’d composed it or copied it.

Still, the brief awe was just a slight ripple in a stagnant pond—fading quickly into calm.

Lu Huai let out a quiet breath of relief.

Good. No excessive attention. No blame for finishing late.

Yet hearing those scattered compliments, a hint of warmth flickered in his chest. He could only find tiny validation in these fragments—a quiet satisfaction, not joy.

At most, ease.

The task was done. No longer weighing on his mind.

That anxious pressure—like gaming happily, then remembering untouched homework due tomorrow, fearing scolding, punishment, the teacher’s sharp words—had vanished.

As if sunlight brightened, and the clouds above his head simply dissolved.

He returned to his usual routine: head down, homework, morning self-study.

Occasionally, someone marveled at the blackboard script, then moved on.

For Lu Huai… all in all… a quietly pleasant morning.

Why he finally wrote it? Maybe a tiny spark finally flickered from within his frail frame. Truly, just a small thing.

Jiang Yao showed no reaction.

Probably still embarrassed after scolding him yesterday. Lu Huai didn’t mind—he *had* procrastinated, affecting her mood.

His habits troubled others too.

But… had he made up for it now?

Noon came.

During lunch break, student council members visited each class, inspected bulletin boards, took photos.

Lu Huai wasn’t there. Jiang Yao and Xu Zhixi likely handled it.

His presence changed nothing. Better to hide. Done. Not his concern anymore.

Afternoon English class.

Xu Zhixi stepped onto the podium with elegant grace. Her presence was so captivating you could almost hear the boys’ hearts sync to her footsteps.

Yet her first words weren’t about the lesson.

“Has everyone seen the class bulletin board?”

“…”

Lu Huai glanced up, startled.

Her gentle, smiling gaze swept right over him.

He ducked his head instantly.

Nervous.

Why bring this up now? Wasn’t it over?

“We saw it!”

“Yep~”

Murmured replies rose from below.

Xu Zhixi smiled. “This bulletin board was a joint effort by Jiang Yao and Lu Huai. The school’s results just came in—our class ranked first. Average score: 9.8.”

Maybe the bulletin board meant little.

Maybe this moment wouldn’t even linger in future memories.

Like studying at the Imperial Academy in the capital and hearing distant Yunnan was celebrating Spring Festival—you feel no festivity, see no relevance.

Yet in this instant… surprise flickered.

Hearing “first” from Xu Zhixi carried weight. At this age, the word alone inspired awe.

“Seriously?”

“Oh right—Lu Huai! I forgot he teamed up with Jiang Yao…”

“School-wide first? Not just by grade? Wild…”

“Wait, Lu Huai *wrote* it?”

“He’s got skills?”

“Way to go, Lu Huai!”

“No wonder the board was blank—saving up for a grand reveal?”

*Not at all!* Lu Huai felt helpless.

“Isn’t this that ‘hidden master’ trope from novels? Haha!”

*N-no… I didn’t…*

“Oh? Silent now, playing the aloof expert? But yeah… the writing’s legit.”

Lu Huai blinked. How had his procrastination twisted into a “grand reveal” persona?

A wave of chatter surged around him.

Sudden stares. Noisy whispers. His rarely mentioned name now drawing more attention than Jiang Yao’s.

Overwhelming. Some classmates turned with feigned familiarity, smiling warmly.

He stayed silent.

Cheeks burning, he kept his head low, hiding the blush.

“This honor comes from their hard work. Let’s applaud them.”

“…”

Applause.

So much applause.

To others, applause was routine—TV shows, achievements, speeches echoing across playgrounds.

Lu Huai had always been *in* the crowd clapping.

Now… he was the one being clapped for.

Mind buzzing like a field after bombardment. Only roaring static.

Body feeling strangely light.

…Maybe, just maybe… a little happy?

Xu Zhixi watched the flustered, head-down boy—a faint smile touched her lips.

No life is fixed at sixteen. Or twenty. Thirty. Forty. Paths remain.

Only oneself can build a cage.

Lu Huai settled.

After the brief dazzle: an eagle releasing the horizon, soaring into open sky.

A whale leaping from waves, sinking back into deep blue.

Youth remained. Sunlight glowed.

This life… peaceful, with a whisper of joy.

Not lottery-winning euphoria. Just buying green tea and finding “Another Bottle Free” inside.

Walking home, thoughts drifting, he settled into his usual backseat spot.

Truth was, it wasn’t much. He was still himself. To others, a small surprise. To him—a tiny, keepable memory. A very small one.

Phone buzzed at the door.

“Dinner together tonight. Remember to open the door later.”

—Yan Ningning.

Lu Huai waited. Not hesitating—he’d already drafted his reply.

Just… waiting. Didn’t want to seem glued to his phone. A quiet stubbornness.

Exactly five minutes later, at the doorstep, he replied.

Inside, he dropped his bag, drank water…

*Ping.*

“Mm-hmm.”

Her reply. Also ~five minutes.

Lu Huai smiled without meaning to. *Tacit understanding?*

Early evening. Showered, changed into comfy shorts and tee, ready for homework and novel-writing.

*Ding-dong.*

Six o’clock.

“Already here? A bit early…”

Yan Ningning usually came at seven.

He walked to the door, opened it, bracing to keep his expression neutral—

Then froze.

“Hey boy, good evening.”

A bright, cheerful voice.

A face with a bewitching smile, stunning enough to stop time.

An unbuttoned shirt over a sports bra.

Toned, fair stomach. An outstretched hand.

On her delicate forearm—two black feather tattoos.

Even more alluring.

Lu Huai stared, flustered, eyes darting away. Ignored her hand.

“Who… are you?”

He didn’t know her.

*Truly.*

Bold outfit. Unapologetic charm. Tattoo.

No recognition.

So why was she at his door… acting like she belonged?

Then, her words—delivered in that magnetic voice—startled Lu Huai again.

"Me…? I’m here to co-rent. Wasn’t it all settled?"

"Co-rent…?!"

"Yeah. Didn’t… haven’t your parents told you yet? I’m the one here to co-rent."

"…"

Parents… Could they have… actually rented out the house?!