Students at Chuanhai No.1 High School were well-bred, raised under strict discipline. Theft had never occurred there—so the idea of someone holding a grudge against Lu Li made no sense. He’d spent a full year at school without making a single enemy.

After turning it over again and again, only An Baili could’ve taken the file. Recalling how anxiously she’d searched for him earlier, Lu Li grew increasingly certain. But why take it? Where was she now? Why hadn’t she come to class?

Worried, Lu Li waited through the second afternoon class—but An Baili never returned. Irony struck: usually *she* watched for *him* with bated breath. Now *he* was the one desperate to see her. He didn’t get An Baili. He got the silly goose who’d pulled herself together.

Chu Jingyi’s uniform was perfectly neat, her little leather boots gleaming under the sun—spotless, almost ethereal. She looked calm, but her gaze faltered slightly whenever it passed over Lu Li.

Seeing the class monitor, Lu Li instantly recalled the sweet scent of her lips. Girls carried that sweet-and-sour charm—bursting with vitality, radiating youthful energy, utterly unlike mature women. If forced to choose? Lu Li preferred girls.

She sat behind him in silence, opened her textbook, and prepared for class. Lu Li turned to speak—*thwack!*—her book smacked his face. “I don’t want to talk to you right now!”

Fine. Don’t talk. Lu Li turned away proudly. No man keeps offering warmth to a cold shoulder. Minutes later, he swiveled back with a smile. “Jingyi, do you know where An Baili is?” *Be magnanimous. No need to argue with a silly girl.*

Chu Jingyi’s lips pursed. “How would *I* know? If you’re so worried, go find her yourself.” The words dripped with jealousy. She blushed instantly. “I—I mean, I don’t know! Baili must’ve run off because of you. She likes you so much, and you…" Less accusation toward him. More toward herself.

*You kissed me…* She swallowed the words. A secret for life. Unless… unless…

Afternoon classes ended quickly. The homeroom teacher announced tomorrow’s monthly exam: top ten scorers would qualify for Mulan City’s academic competition. Lu Li knew this one. Last life, he’d missed it. This time? He’d fight for it. Prestigious. Crucial for college. Only three liberal arts subjects: Literature, Moral Philosophy, Jurisprudence—matching high school Chinese, Morality, and Law.

Lu Li packed his bag, wanting to say something. He *had* kissed an innocent girl—some acknowledgment was due. Their eyes met. Same thought. But the silly goose stayed silent, just gazing at him, pitifully hopeful.

“Class monitor… want to do botanical garden duty together?” *Supposed to be with An Baili today.*

“Mm.”

Maybe it was her imagination, but Chu Jingyi felt every glance from classmates—lingering, teasing, *knowing*. As if everyone saw what happened in the activity room. Head down, counting shoelace eyelets, she wished the ground would swallow her.

*All Lu Li’s fault.* Real friends don’t kiss. Don’t… *do that*. He was exploiting being her only best friend.

The botanical garden was secluded—a perfect spot for heart-to-hearts. In college, Lu Li used to meet An Baili in the woods. But his heart felt different now. “Inspecting” just meant signing the attendance sheet. Professionals handled the rest.

Lu Li led her to a bench beneath an osmanthus tree. Blooms perfumed the air. Earlier, they could’ve picked gardenias—snow-white, soft, fragrant. *Perfect for her.*

Lu Li mused on flowers and femininity. Chu Jingyi? On pins and needles. *Is this… a date?* Her mind raced. *Does he like me? What do I do?*

“Class monitor,” Lu Li began gently, “I acted on impulse in the activity room.” Sincerity softened her tense shoulders.

“You… why did you… k-kiss… *do* that?” Even saying “kiss” burned her cheeks. So pure. Rare nowadays. Most teens had already tasted the forbidden fruit. But Chu Jingyi? A relic of innocence—thanks to Chu Xiaodong’s careful upbringing.

*Next time I see him, I’ll give him a commendation.*

“Because you looked adorable.”

“A-adorable…?”

“Mm. Flushed cheeks. Glistening eyes. Ears twitching. Tiny hands gripping my arm—*hard*. I couldn’t resist. Are you angry?”

“I *am*!” Her protest held zero force. “How… how do I explain this to my future husband? Did I… do something wrong…?” A tiny whimper escaped.

Sunset bled gold through the leaves, dappling their faces. Osmanthus and her scent wove together—dreamlike, sweet. Lu Li felt sweetness bloom inside. No worries. No weight. Just… peace.

“A little sweet.”

“…What?”

“The sunlight.” He gazed at crimson clouds. “The sunset tastes sweet.”

“Sunsets have *taste*? You’re tricking me again…”

“They do. Morning sun tastes bitter—like swallowing a fresh lotus seed, core and all. Noon sun? Like Red Bull. Some taste thrill. Others, hesitation.”

“…And sunset?”

He held her eyes.

“Right now? Sweet.”

He didn’t expect her to grasp the metaphor. Safe to speak freely.

The silly goose fell quiet, turning his words over syllable by syllable. Finally: “…Just this once. Next time… you *must* ask permission.” Lu Li blinked—*she meant the kiss.*

Her eyes held a light he’d seen only in his sister’s: “You’re my best friend… so I’ll forgive you.”

*Best friend.* Relief washed over him—tinged with selfish regret. He cherished their purity. Yet craved more. A contradiction even two lifetimes couldn’t fix.

Under the dying sun, the boy extended his pinkie. “Pinkie promise?”

Chu Jingyi’s eyes widened—then lit up. She linked fingers. “Pinkie promise!”

“Pinkie promise, forever and ever! Break it, and you turn into a big white goose!”

Beneath the osmanthus tree, the silly goose’s voice soared like a paper airplane—darting through leaves, over rooftops, vanishing into the orange-red horizon.

Like a swan taking flight.