Before leaving, Gu Chuan gave the kitten Zizai one last scratch, feeling the soft fur on its round face.
Sure enough, no matter how grumpy the little cat looked, its fur was always soft and fluffy.
“Tinghan, see Gu Chuan downstairs,” her mother said gently, nudging her forward.
“Mm… okay,” Wen Tinghan murmured, head bowed, finally catching her mother’s meaning.
Her gaze trembled with nerves, yet warmed by her mother’s watchful eyes behind her—and steadied by Gu Chuan’s calm presence ahead.
“Goodbye, Auntie,” Gu Chuan said politely.
“Next time you visit, Auntie’ll cook you a whole table of delicious dishes,” her mother smiled, eyes curving like crescent moons.
She quietly closed the door, leaving Wen Tinghan and Gu Chuan alone in the hallway.
“Gu Chuan… let’s go.”
“Mm.”
They walked toward the elevator. While it climbed, Gu Chuan stepped to the hallway windowsill, gazing down at the streets and the neon lights blooming across the distant cityscape.
For the first time, the city’s glow felt this close.
Back in his rented room, he’d had to lean far out the window just to glimpse skyscrapers and neon beyond the run-down apartment blocks of the outer suburbs.
Wen Tinghan quietly joined him, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her left ear.
For the first time, she felt a quiet ease in being a girl.
But then—Gu Chuan still saw her as a boy. A boy in a dress.
A bittersweet smile flickered across her lips.
She hadn’t the courage to correct him.
She was indecisive by nature, yet wanted to reach out and grasp her own happiness, just as her mother said.
One day, she’d be brave enough to leap without looking back.
No one is saved forever by others. Gu Chuan had saved the Wen Tinghan of the past.
But the Wen Tinghan of the future would save herself.
Every minute with him brought that day closer.
“What are you thinking about, Gu Chuan?”
“I’m wondering… where my home is.”
He scanned the horizon, trying to spot the versions of himself who’d once leaned from windows longing.
He failed. His sense of direction had never been strong.
Hence, he often got lost.
Wen Tinghan fell silent, hearing the weight beneath his words.
She didn’t know what to say—only felt sorrow for him.
Even sheltered as she was, she’d heard whispers about his family.
Being abandoned had become both joke and open wound, torn open cruelly by others.
Few knew the truth: beyond his divorced birth parents, it was his adoptive parents—Ji Gewei’s parents—who’d cast him aside.
Almost no one knew his tie to Ji Gewei.
That was why their morning walk to school had caused such a stir.
Thankfully, the elevator dinged open, cutting the heavy silence.
She glanced at Gu Chuan. Calm as ever. Backpack slung over one shoulder. Holding the plastic bag with the tiny swimming fish—gently, just right.
What did the world look like through the fish’s eyes?
To Wen Tinghan, Gu Chuan was a world all his own—quiet, captivating.
Outside, twilight had settled. No sunset remained.
Gu Chuan bid her farewell, his gaze soft. Though no sun shone, her cheeks burned.
She insisted on walking him to the gate. He accepted.
They chatted lightly about school. Being ostracized there didn’t stop them from talking easily.
School was more than petty gossip.
Truth was, since enrolling at Lanfeng High, Gu Chuan alone had fueled nearly half the campus rumors—from Lin Churou at the start to An Qianmeng, his recent breakup.
He even wondered: if Wen Tinghan, in this dress, walked school halls with him…
Tomorrow’s forums and group chats would swarm with wild tales of him “tricking some short-haired, delicate girl.”
At the gate, they parted reluctantly.
The upright security guard recognized them—especially Gu Chuan.
His eyes widened. *Entered with a boy… leaves with a girl?*
This was Wen Tinghan’s first time walking under open sky in women’s clothes.
Crisp evening air. Faint streetlights stretching their shadows long.
Reality denied what shadows granted:
From behind, their silhouettes walked shoulder to shoulder, hands clasped, chasing the last sliver of sunset glow.
Then even that light vanished.
“See you tomorrow, Tinghan…” Gu Chuan said slowly, hesitation in his voice.
“See you tomorrow…” Wen Tinghan whispered, eyes stinging. She looked down.
Why?
For the secret she couldn’t speak?
For love hidden from the world?
Or the shadow of self-deception?
She turned. Her skirt swayed, as if shaking off every worry.
Then—his voice, clear and pure as jade, pierced straight into her heart.
“You’re beautiful, Tinghan.”
“I’m not sure if this is inappropriate… It feels odd saying this to a guy.”
“But—that’s what I truly think.”
“Keep going. Be yourself.”
Gu Chuan had more to say.
He’d felt her nerves, her distraction downstairs, her panic avoiding stares.
But the words stayed locked.
Only “Be yourself” slipped out—honest, unguarded.
*Don’t mind others’ eyes.*
*Tinghan, you’re beautiful.*
*Be yourself.*
…
Gu Chuan left.
A girl crouched on the pavement, weeping.
Her white dress pooled on the ground, swaying in the breeze, dust-kissed.
The guard sighed inwardly, anger flaring. *Two-timing scumbag!*
*Next time I see him—I’ll give him a piece of my mind!*
Passersby and square-dancing aunties pointed and whispered:
“Who’s that girl? Never seen her around… Strange.”
How could they know?
Wen Tinghan’s tears weren’t sorrow.
They were joy.
For the words that had haunted her for years—
*Be yourself*—
finally, gently, unlocked.
