"At ease!"

"Attention!"

"Eyes left—dress!"

"Eyes front!"

...

Clear, sharp commands echoed around him. Su Yu moved numbly in response, his mind still caught on the faint smile Xia Qian’ge had given him when she turned back.

She hadn’t given him a reason—maybe there hadn’t been time. Gu Chuan and the others had practically dragged him off the field before he could even say, "Long time no see."

Later, Su Yu slowly calmed. He remembered the deep confusion in her eyes as she glanced back—as if his presence shocked her too. After all, Xia Qian’ge hadn’t known he was coming to Qingchuan.

Had she really failed the Gaokao? Someone whose grades guaranteed Jiangnan University? What could’ve affected her? Only one explanation fit: he was the sole variable. Like a bug in a pre-scripted game—the glitch being his reborn self.

Everything looped back like a perfect circle. Twisting, turning… yet nothing changed.

She still shone brilliantly, drawing eyes wherever she went. Su Yu had wanted to take her hand, pull her from the crowd, ask why—but he froze. This was meant to be their first close contact in this life, yet he stood rigid, mistaken for a pervert.

After a final formation check—barely passing—the drill instructor barked, "Dismissed for lunch!"

The squad scattered instantly. The field swarmed with students in camouflage; the exit choked with bodies.

Jostled to the sidelines, Su Yu stayed put. Gu Chuan’s group went off-campus, but he had no appetite. He only wanted to find Xia Qian’ge—yet the crowd swallowed all trace of her.

Restlessness… The stifling air fried his nerves. He needed out. Escape this suffocating cage.

Then—a light tug on his sleeve. Gentle. A faint, sweet fragrance.

He turned. The tension in his eyes softened. Behind him, the girl tilted her head. They stood motionless amid the flowing crowd, gazes locked—a quiet shift in the heavy air.

"Didn’t you apply sunscreen?"

He noticed her flushed cheeks—sun-kissed, tender. His chest tightened.

"I did. Didn’t help much."

Silence fell between them, spreading like spores in the humid heat, taking root.

"I’m hungry," she said suddenly.

"Let’s eat."

"Okay."

...

"I didn’t do well on the Gaokao. I could’ve gotten into Jiangnan University… just not my major."

Su Yu’s chopsticks slipped. A vegetable tumbled onto the table. His voice trembled. "H-how… why? Your grades shouldn’t have—"

He guessed why students missing Jiangnan chose Qingchuan University. But *why her*?

"I had a low-grade fever right before the exam."

"Fever?"

The word echoed. He remembered that afternoon—the violent downpour. Sharing an umbrella. His shoulder soaked through.

Every coincidence felt fated. An unbreakable thread tying their wrists.

"So… you got sick from the rain?"

"Mm. Probably." She nodded gently, then added quickly, "Or the AC. Or stress. Either way, Su Yu—it’s not your fault."

"Not my fault…"

He stared down, loneliness etched deep. After a long sigh, he heard no blame in her tone. She was always so kind. Her smile, warm as spring sun, could melt ancient ice.

Yet this gentle soul—why did she twist in his haze into murky water? Slowly creeping up his ankles… threatening to drown him.

"Of course it’s not your fault. Even alone, I’d have gotten soaked. Might not have made it home."

Seeing his eyes still shadowed with guilt, genuine worry flickered across her face. "Qingchuan University’s great. New dorms. Nice classmates…"

"Really? Good… good. As long as you’re okay."

He forced a smile—stiff, unconvincing. Reborn or not, his acting stayed clumsy. Anyone perceptive would see right through him.

Especially *her*—the one who memorized every line of his skin. She saw everything. Said nothing.

Xia Qian’ge smiled softly, almond-shaped eyes crinkling. Faint dimples bloomed. In the crowded cafeteria, heads turned. Some shot Su Yu envious glances.

"Good. It’s rare meeting at the same school. Quite a coincidence."

"Mm. Really quite a coincidence," Su Yu murmured, distracted.

She saw it instantly—regret, guilt… deep, heavy guilt. She pretended not to. Her smile brightened. Nearby boys froze mid-bite.

*Guilt. Regret. Self-blame… perfect bait. His guilt keeps him close.*

Once, she’d scorn such tactics. But cornered, she came to Qingchuan alone—a desperate soul. Anyone touching what was hers? She’d tear flesh free. Bloodied. Unforgiving.

"Any other classmates here?" Su Yu poked his rice absently.

"Don’t think so. Maybe we haven’t crossed paths."

She ate in small, graceful bites—elegant, serene. A quiet pleasure to watch.

"Only… us two?"

"Yes. Just us two."

Her radiant smile melted into afternoon light. Her once chin-length bob now flowed past her shoulders—the long hair Su Yu loved. Strands grew wild like dense forest leaves, hiding the frantic madness lurking behind them.

*From now on… it’ll just be the two of us.*