“Because it’s too cloying,” Gu Chuan replied matter-of-factly.

Qiu Muzhe burst into laughter, not the slightest bit hurt by his refusal. Instead, she hugged her chest tighter and pouted playfully, “Well, I just can’t lose weight, okay~” As she spoke, she proudly lifted her chin and puffed her chest—making even the uncles on the subway glance away awkwardly. Clearly, Gu Chuan’s words weren’t criticism to her… they were praise.

Many schools have girls who feel insecure about their developing figures. But Qiu Muzhe wasn’t one of them. Or rather… she wasn’t anymore. Gu Chuan was the catalyst for her change. Her light…

When the subway arrived and Gu Chuan reached the school gate, a faint sense of déjà vu washed over him—as if replaying that morning. Even the passing students felt oddly familiar. Qiu Muzhe deliberately closed the distance between them, crafting the illusion of holding hands with Senior Gu Chuan. In truth, it was just a classic cinematic trick—“misalignment.” By keeping her hand poised as if held, aligning it with his naturally dangling fingers, distant or blurry-eyed classmates would mistakenly believe… the two were openly holding hands.

Most people hate rumors. But some, like Qiu Muzhe, wield them.

Gu Chuan only noticed her sudden smug expression and the vague hostility in nearby glances. He had no clue what happened. But he’d long grown used to it—the loneliness of school life.

Rumors claimed he lived like a light novel harem protagonist. Gu Chuan now clarifies: pure fiction. What harem lead sells fake affection as a rental boyfriend out of poverty? He’d never felt real love. Sometimes he craved an ordinary romance—but courage always slipped away, silent and swift. Isolated by most boys, avoided by ordinary girls who guarded their reputations, Gu Chuan’s only true friend was his deskmate, Wen Tinghan. Those “scandal heroines”? Just client “older sisters.” A transaction. Everyone got what they needed.

Parting with Qiu Muzhe at the boundary between freshman and sophomore buildings, Gu Chuan didn’t look back. She watched his figure vanish into the overlapping shadows of the halls, then sighed wistfully. Clenching her fists—tight with unattainable longing—she turned toward her classroom.

…

Gu Chuan bought a bottle of water from the campus store. Behind the shelves, the owner’s daughter peeked at him. Catching her gaze, he offered a sunny smile. The girl flushed and ducked back shyly. He paid, left—and the unwitting heartbreaker never realized how that faint smile would haunt her dreams. *Elementary kids mature fast these days*, he mused, *and they know a handsome guy when they see one*. His thoughts drifted to Xuechun at home. *Was she behaving?* The bottle felt cool in his palm. Sometimes he preferred plain water—clean, gentle, free of overwhelming sweetness.

Reaching his classroom just as the bell echoed across campus, birds flitted past the windowsill. Gu Chuan paused at the door, eyes lingering on the empty desk beside his. A flicker of distraction crossed his face. He sat, propped an elbow on the desk, and gazed outside. The sky was a soft, seamless blue—no trace of brushstroke.

An Qianmeng remembered he always arrived right on time. She glanced back at his painting-like profile and murmured something too quiet to hear. *He seems lonelier now*, she thought, *especially since Wen Tinghan’s been absent*. Alone at his desk… what had he ever done wrong? Only one friend. Never known real love. Yet everyone imagined his life perfect—too perfect to deserve even a sliver of kindness.

She recalled running away in anger. Gu Chuan was the only one who took her in. Friends? Classmates? All refused, fearing her family’s shadow. With nowhere left to turn, she’d called her “rental boyfriend”—half-expecting rejection. But after listening to her tearful voice… just a calm, quiet “Okay.”

Like moonlight breaking through clouds.

It reignited every ounce of courage she’d lost. Her heart plummeted—deep, dizzying, drowning.

She’d run to his apartment in the rain.

To this day, a pair of her high heels hides deep in his shoe cabinet.

That feverish night, he stayed up wiping her brow, changing towels, soothing her delirious whims. She couldn’t recall falling asleep—but that peace? Unforgettable.

Morning came. She called his name softly. No answer. Slipping into the slippers he’d left for her, she found him curled on the tiny sofa—exhausted, silent. *He’s so tall*, she thought, tears welling. *Too tall for that sofa*.

Sometimes she wished he weren’t so… gentlemanly.

Alone together. Her showing up at his door.

Teenage feelings aren’t that complicated!

Some bonds start with action, then grow.

She was tired of being the “good girl.” Escaping. Rebelling. Ruining herself…

But why… why weren’t you the villain everyone said you were, Gu Chuan?

Do you know…

That day I joked about breaking up?

If you’d just said *stay*…

I would’ve confessed. Thrown myself at you.

Let’s be real lovers. Okay?