Qiu Muzhe was still standing there.

Perfectly centered. Not a step off, not a sway.

It felt like going back to middle school.

Just like Gu Chuan had said, she was the kind of stalker who made it hard to feel angry at her.

Sometimes, she even made people curious about what she'd do next.

But time had passed, and so had the world around them.

Even if the person hadn't changed, their lives had changed a lot.

The way Qiu Muzhe looked now had long since shed its old greenness and plainness. She'd become dazzling beyond words.

And certain prominent places had become even more prominent, enough to make other girls jealous.

That natural beauty, impossible to hide under dust, now shone with sharp brilliance. The stronger the contrast, the stronger the impact.

She gave Gu Chuan a faint smile. In her eyes lay a deep pool, one that made people remember peach blossoms floating above it, yet also fear the piles of white bones sunk beneath.

She seemed changed, yet unchanged. In just an instant, she locked Gu Chuan's gaze in place.

The warm sun of early spring rested softly on her shoulders, like a thin veil draped over her.

If you leaned in and breathed her in, maybe you'd catch the scent of the coming midsummer.

Midsummer had gentle breezes, but also torrential rain, impossible to avoid.

Qiu Muzhe raised a hand at Gu Chuan, who was looking at her. Her fingers were pale and slender, her palm like a piece of fine jade with the character chuan written across it.

For some reason, the sight made Gu Chuan think of a Japanese idol, one who seemed to be called Gakki.

He still remembered an ad he'd once seen. She'd been walking down an empty street in the early morning, then suddenly looked back and smiled.

The hand she raised back then seemed to cross time itself and reappear in Qiu Muzhe.

Qiu Muzhe could be gentle too, could even have that perfect wife-like softness, if Gu Chuan wanted her to.

He blinked lightly, his long lashes trembling. He didn't know where the feeling came from, but he raised a hand back at her.

At once, whispers spread through the classroom.

Even the English teacher on the platform coughed a little harder. She'd noticed the girl in the hallway the moment she arrived.

She was reminding Gu Chuan not to be too blatant. Class would be over in just a few minutes. Kids these days...

Gu Chuan reined himself in, but Qiu Muzhe outside the classroom shyly covered her already flushed face.

She looked exactly like a girl in love, innocent and sweet.

The commotion spread to the front rows.

An Qianmeng was being held back by her deskmate and best friend. Her heart was screaming: Let go of me! I'm going to crack that little bitch's skull open with my bare hands!

Her best friend: Don't go! She's got bigger boobs!

An Qianmeng: ?

An Qianmeng: Then I'm building Executioner's Calling!

And through all this chaos, Gu Chuan stayed perfectly calm. He counted the seconds, waiting for the bell to ring.

Qiu Muzhe was waiting too.

An Qianmeng was waiting too.

Ten, nine, eight... two, one.

Ring ring ring!

"Alright, that's it for today's class. Finish the exercise set after class. Students, class dismissed."

The class monitor took the lead and called out,

"Goodbye, teacher!"

It was messy and scattered, though. A lot of people didn't even make a sound, just mouthed the words.

Gu Chuan didn't go along with that, at least not completely. His voice was just very light, very soft, and his mind wasn't on class at all.

Then who was he thinking about?

Qiu Muzhe?

An Qianmeng?

Or maybe... neither of them. His thoughts were full of Xuechun back at home. He hadn't poured her any water after getting up this morning. He wondered if she'd already finished the water in her cup.

If she had, what if Xuechun got thirsty?

Maybe she could turn into a catgirl and drink from his cup?

Who knew whether she could control her transformation? Because of class, there were still too many secrets about catgirls Gu Chuan hadn't had time to explore.

Still, according to The Postpartum Care Manual for Catgirls, catgirls could eat human food, but after turning into cats, it was best for them to eat cat food.

A few days ago, Xuechun had been crunching cat food at home with obvious delight. At least that made it worth it that he'd spent the last of his money buying her the most expensive brand.

Thinking all this, Gu Chuan casually picked up the shoulder bag he had barely ever used and got ready to head home.

The way he walked was easy and carefree. He slipped past the empty desks beside him without effort and stepped into the aisle by his seat.

Gu Chuan quietly glanced back, remembering how things usually were.

Wen Tinghan was the kind of person who, even after class ended, would still bite the end of a pen and silently think over what the teacher had said at his desk.

His short hair was delicate like a girl's, nearly falling to his shoulders. His face was fair as snow, with peach blossoms hidden in that snow. His eyes were lively and shy like a young deer, and when he focused, they looked like crystal formed from a blue-green pool.

Around his neck, there was always a black soft choker. He said it was to cover a wound.

But sadly, all that effort and seriousness hadn't brought any obvious improvement to his grades.

Gu Chuan had always ranked near the bottom of the class. Not dead last, though. Exams were boring anyway, so he might as well answer a few questions and scrape together some points.

Wen Tinghan, on the other hand, was around the lower middle of the pack. Always writing furiously. Always completely focused.

Sometimes the test would be very easy. The top students would finish early, and the slackers wouldn't bother writing seriously in the first place. In the end, the only sound left in the whole classroom would be Wen Tinghan's pen going scratch scratch scratch.

And because of that, he got mocked.

Once, even Gu Chuan, a delinquent, couldn't hold back anymore and stood up for him. He grabbed some boy by the collar, the tension sharp enough to snap.

It was Wen Tinghan, with those soft and fragile hands of his, patting Gu Chuan on the shoulder and telling him not to do that.

Back then, Gu Chuan hadn't noticed that Wen Tinghan was actually very grateful. Tiny lights shimmered in his eyes like a brilliant galaxy.

That day, Wen Tinghan treated Gu Chuan to a strawberry mini cake he'd made himself.

It was actually better than the ones sold in the bakeries on the street.

After Gu Chuan gave it a "It's really good," Wen Tinghan started bringing him carefully made little pastries every so often.

Gu Chuan never disturbed Wen Tinghan when he was sitting there, lost in thought.

Someone else's effort didn't need anyone's approval, and even less did it deserve mockery.

So usually, Wen Tinghan would only realize Gu Chuan was about to leave when Gu Chuan was already beside him. Then he'd hurriedly stand up, head lowered, voice trembling softly as he said,

"S-sorry, Gu Chuan..."

When he said Gu Chuan's name, his tone dipped at the end, like a leaf scraping painfully against the wind.

Gu Chuan would always have the urge to ruffle his smooth short hair. Their height difference was weirdly adorable. Then he'd leave without saying a word.

But today, when Gu Chuan left, the space behind him felt empty.

He walked out through the back door of the classroom and ran straight into a pair of sparkling eyes.

"Senpai..." Qiu Muzhe seemed so shy she'd forgotten how to speak. Just that one form of address was already overflowing with feeling.

An Qianmeng came out almost at the same time as Gu Chuan, except through the front door.

Her arms were folded over her chest. Her pretty face was frosty as snow, and her gaze was sharp as needles.

"Gu Chuan."

She called him by name.

Cold like a candied haw in winter.

Lick the frost off, and underneath was sugar.