The first university class was an 8 a.m. lecture, yet everyone in the dorm woke early. They bustled in the cramped space—washing up, dressing neatly, clutching brand-new textbooks, beaming with anticipation as they stepped out to greet their very first college lesson. Campus paths already swarmed with students just like them.

But this vibrant scene wouldn’t last. Likely gone within a week, maybe sooner. Eventually, even arriving on time would feel like a luxury.

Su Yu was the last to rise. He’d mentally fast-forwarded straight to the dorm’s inevitable numbness a week later. The chaotic morning felt familiar, yet strangely distant. Some things stayed fresh even after living them twice. Others, experienced just once, were too painful to recall. Life always had shadows painted somewhere. And with this second chance, he knew—he had to face them.

With time before class, Gu Chuan and the others clamored for breakfast. Arms slung over shoulders, they walked like rowdy street buddies shouting “best friends forever.” Su Yu, reluctantly dragged along, shook off Gu Chuan’s arm the moment they entered the cafeteria—drawing a clear line.

First-day crowds packed the breakfast stalls. Su Yu scanned the long row, unsure where to go. He chose a steamed bun stall—not craving buns, just the shortest queue.

Head down, phone in hand while waiting, he mused: few old friends kept in touch after university began. Xia Qian’ge was one. Chen Kai occasionally messaged—mostly about bumping into Mo Yufei on campus. But He Muqing messaged most: homework questions, complaints about senior year’s grueling stress.

He’d never been good at comforting others. He Muqing called him a “wooden block,” yet still shared worries she’d never tell her parents. Su Yu just smiled cheerfully, offered sparse advice, never overstepped.

She was graceful, bright—a girl destined for a radiant future. So meddling with her path, even under the guise of “doing good,” would only be a selfish mistake.

He glanced at the queue—almost his turn. His phone vibrated. A notification: *Friend request accepted.*

Frowning, he checked the new contact. Profile picture: a woman in a hospital room, gazing out a window. Black-and-white. Seated deep in shadow, features blurred—yet radiating an unsettling chill.

Normally, he’d dismiss it as another gloomy social media aesthetic. But this felt unnervingly real—as if he could glimpse the person behind the screen.

*Since arriving at Qingchuan University, I haven’t added anyone… So why…?*

*The bar woman?* Memory surfaced instantly. The style matched hers perfectly: mature… coolly enchanting.

She’d given him her contact that night. His request vanished without a trace. He’d assumed she’d offered it out of politeness—never intending to accept. Days passed; he barely recalled her face. Only the image remained: alone in a shadowy bar corner, sipping slowly. Liquor glistening on crimson lips under dim light, an alluring sheen.

Yet now—accepted. He waited deliberately. No follow-up message. Adding him seemed pure coincidence.

He reached to check her feed—when a bump against his back made him instinctively lock the screen. He turned. A petite figure, nearly a head shorter.

“S-sorry! I dozed off…”

An Zhi’s round, doe-like eyes swam with sleepiness. Stray hairs messily draped behind her ears—clearly rushed from waking too late.

“Dozing while standing?” Su Yu chuckled, quirking his lips. “A little clumsy.”

“It’s not! Seeing you ahead… I just felt safe enough to zone out.” She tilted her chin up to protest, voice fading. Nose scrunched, head dipped. “Anyway, I’m not clumsy. I got into Qingchuan University—I was top of my class!”

“Here. Buns for the lonely soul with no company.”

“Huh? For me?” An Zhi eyed the two steamed buns, subtly swallowing. Hesitated. “Actually, I was thinking…”

“Relax. Meat filling.”

“Great! Thank you!” Her face lit up. She took them, blinking brightly. “I’ll grab soy milk and a seat!”

She skipped off, ponytail swaying, revealing the snow-white nape of her neck—a startling, brilliant white.

…

“An Zhi! Remember me? Gu Chuan—from the welcome party!”

“Lu Siyuan. Su Yu’s roommate.”

“Chu Feng.”

“G-good morning, everyone…” An Zhi smiled nervously, words stumbling slightly.

“Rooming with students from other majors?”

“Yeah… registered late. No choice.”

“That won’t do,” Lu Siyuan shook his head gently. “You should connect with classmates. I’ll organize a class meeting soon. You’ll fit right in.”

“Sure, sure!” An Zhi nodded eagerly.

Su Yu munched his bun, watching. Caught their knowing glances now and then. Four dorm mates total: Gu Chuan—up to no good; Chu Feng—too quiet; only Lu Siyuan felt genuinely reliable.

Lu Siyuan had that rare emotional intelligence—especially around pretty girls. Witty, warm, perfectly measured. Made people feel like a breath of fresh air. Something Su Yu doubted he could ever master, even with a second life.

Conversation flowed. An Zhi was easy to like—pretty, soft-spoken… just a little too naive, too innocent.

Bored, Su Yu scrolled his phone. Liked He Muqing’s recent posts out of habit. Then, absently clicked the bar woman’s feed.

He held no interest in cool, aloof women. Opened it with zero enthusiasm. Empty. “Recent Posts Visible” glowed on screen.

As he exited, his eyes snagged the cover photo.

His pupils contracted sharply.

The faint smile froze on his face. Expression rigid.

The image… was his old elementary school’s front gate. Name carved clearly on the signboard.

Everything looked normal.

Except—

*Why this school? The one I attended?*