It was impossible to say whether it was deliberate. He increased the pressure of his fingers. His fingertip finally scraped away the last trace of dust. The creamy-white tip of her nose immediately flushed — like a small rabbit’s.

“But whether I set my sights on someone is my own business. The one I want to pursue is you.” A muscle in Ban Sheng’s cheek tightened slightly as he held her gaze and spoke slowly.

Lin Weixia stepped back. His advance was too forceful to withstand. She met his eyes with resolve: “If you want me to be with you, it won’t happen unless it snows in Nanjiang.”

Nanjiang’s climate was warm and humid, with an almost unbroken summer year-round. It was even joked that Nanjiang only had two seasons — summer and autumn. This city had not seen snow in decades. Snow falling in Nanjiang was simply impossible.

“Don’t make absolute statements.” Ban Sheng gave a soft, unhurried laugh. He lazily straightened up and drew back the distance between them.

With those words said, the school’s power returned. Everything turned instantly bright, as sharp as midday. The security guard stood on the corridor of the building across, whistling relentlessly for students to leave. Countless moths gathered around the streetlamps. Dust drifted in the air.

The light was abruptly too bright. Lin Weixia instinctively raised a hand to shield her eyes. Through the gaps in her fingers she glimpsed Ban Sheng lower his head. The pale back of his neck showed the clean row of vertebrae. He bit down on the zipper pull of his jacket, lifted his foot to the next step down, and walked away without looking back.

From that night on, Lin Weixia began going out of her way to avoid Ban Sheng. Any class activities or invitations involving Ban Sheng’s social circle — she turned them all down with excuses.

Once or twice was fine. But as the pattern repeated, particularly among the A-tier girls, resentment began to build. They stood in a cluster with their arms crossed. When Lin Weixia passed by carrying her assignments, they made no effort to lower their voices:

“What’s she so aloof about — just because her grades are a little better?”

“That’s right. No matter how many bonus points she accumulates, she’s an F-tier student at heart. Poor background, not very smart, just knows how to cram.”

They had expected these verbal attacks to wound Lin Weixia and throw her off-balance, giving themselves a satisfying sense of power. But Lin Weixia showed no reaction whatsoever. She was like the ice on a blue lake — calm and beautiful, without a single crack opened by anything external.

It was Fang Mo beside her whose expression shifted again and again. Back at their seat, she leaned in with urgency: “Weixia, are you alright?”

Lin Weixia shook her head and gave her a gentle smile: “I’m fine.”

“I was scared for you just now. I’m glad you’re okay — but those girls are like that, what can you do. You just have to swallow it and endure.” Fang Mo offered in comfort.

Lin Weixia was distributing the assignments. Her expression was distant as she replied: “I fought back.”

“Huh?” Fang Mo looked genuinely confused.

“People’s weaknesses are obvious. When someone does something or behaves a certain way, what they’re looking for is validation — and that gratification comes from the other person’s reaction.”

“When you give no reaction at all — you’ve already won.” Lin Weixia held the exercise books and looked out the window.

Fang Mo followed her gaze. One or two of those girls had sour expressions, and from sheer anger their chests heaved dramatically. The color in their necks was deepening to a shrimp-red, which was becoming somewhat comical.

“Wow, Weixia — you’re my idol!” Fang Mo said with reverence.

Lin Weixia looked outward and found her line of sight occupied by a tall, lean figure in black — meeting the gaze of eyes that held a languid ease. Seeing him about to come over, she quickly looked away and said quietly to Fang Mo:

“Help me hand out the rest of the assignments. I need to use the restroom.”

Lin Weixia slipped out through the front door.

In truth, this was not the first time she had avoided Ban Sheng like this. During this period, whenever Liu Sijia and Lin Weixia were together and ran into him, Lin Weixia would quietly step away — on the pretext of giving the two of them enough space.

Any opportunity for a one-on-one encounter with Ban Sheng, Lin Weixia dodged.

That was how it should be.

Ban Sheng leaned against the wall, raised his eyes, and watched the figure slipping away through the front door.

In the blink of an eye, early December arrived. The climate in Nanjiang remained warm and pleasant. Except on the days when cold air swept in from the north and a thicker jacket was needed, most of the weather was still comfortably warm.

During the break between classes, the classroom was noisy. With a loud bang, someone kicked the door open.

Lin Weixia heard it and looked over. Ning Chao was standing in the doorway with his face covered in fresh injuries. His school uniform tied around his waist, he strode in with a palpable air of menace.

Ning Chao kicked a stool into place and sat down. At the same moment, Lin Weixia caught a strong, rich smell of blood. She looked up to find his handsome face streaked with bruises — and a distinct, ugly cut running along his jaw.

“Chao-bro, what brawl did you just get back from?”

Ning Chao slammed his books on the table and spat: “Had a run-in with those punks from No. 13 Middle School. They love starting trouble, so I kept them company.”

“You still dared to come back to school? Looks like you’ll be stuck doing the cleaning duty for the sports field and the lab building this semester.” One of the boys teased.

Ning Chao heard this and gave a thin, mirthless smile. The expression pulled at the cut on the corner of his mouth, and he let out a sharp hiss of pain.

Lin Weixia put down her pen after hearing this and looked at him: “I’ll go to the nurse’s office and get you some medicine in a bit.”

She did, but the nurse’s office was near the faculty dormitory — quite a distance away — so by the time she got back, class had already begun.

It happened to be Old Liu’s class. He put down his chalk and looked toward Lin Weixia at the door: “Where did you go?”

“Teacher, you may not know — the class rep went to get medicine for Ning Chao. Still, his seatmate really knows how to look after someone.” One of the boys quipped cleverly.

The whole class burst out laughing and turned around, sending teasing, knowing looks darting between the two of them. Qiu Minghua joined in the laughter, then leaned back and said something to Ban Sheng.

“You have to admit — they actually look kind of compatible.”

Qiu Minghua was still laughing when he happened to glance at Ban Sheng’s face. There was no expression on it. But Qiu Minghua knew — he was displeased.

Just one look was enough for Qiu Minghua to know which things he could say in front of him and which he could not.

Old Liu gave a brief reminder and waved Lin Weixia inside. He rapped the lectern with his pointer a few more times before the classroom finally fell completely quiet.

After class, Lin Weixia opened the iodine bottle cap and was inserting a cotton swab when a looming shadow came up behind her. A sleeve brushed past her and an upright figure passed in front of her.

Lin Weixia saw that Ning Chao was haphazardly applying medicine to his own face. She sighed quietly: “Let me help.”

Lin Weixia lifted the cotton swab, shifted her stool, and the distance between them closed. She was just about to apply the iodine to Ning Chao’s wound when a voice cut through the air — cold as shards of ice, like a muffled thunderclap in winter:

“Ning Chao, step outside for a minute.”

Lin Weixia’s hand jerked. The iodine liquid dripped from the cotton swab and fell onto the hem of her knit sweater, immediately blooming into a stain. She looked up — Ban Sheng stood there in a black hooded sweatshirt, half his sharp face shadowed. Their eyes met, and his gaze was like a dark, deep sea — one look, and it could swallow a person whole.

Ning Chao stood up, kicked his stool aside, and turned toward Ban Sheng while taunting him: “How strange. Aren’t you A-tier types too proud to speak to people like us?”

Ning Chao was still talking as Ban Sheng leaned casually against the wall, his eyes fixed only on Lin Weixia. His lighter flickered a flame between his fingers from time to time, as though trying to cut through something smoldering in the depths of his gaze.

In the end, the medicine never got applied. Ning Chao left with Ban Sheng and never returned. At noon after eating, Lin Weixia rested her head on her desk to work on assignments.

Liu Sijia came over with a bottle of nail polish, sat across from her, and began painting her nails. She blew gently on the dusty rose color and said: “Weixia, you’re still going to help me with Ban Sheng, right? Tomorrow —”

“Sijia, I’m sorry — I don’t think I’ll be able to help you anymore.” Lin Weixia’s long eyelashes lifted.

Liu Sijia was concentrating on painting her index finger with her favorite glitter polish when she heard this. Her hand tilted, and the sparkly fragments along with the nail polish spilled past the edge. She had always taken for granted that Lin Weixia would help her. The sudden refusal left Liu Sijia’s red lips parted, momentarily without the right words to say.

Even Liu Sijia couldn’t move her anymore.

Lin Weixia pulled out a tissue, gently took Liu Sijia’s hand, and with her eyes lowered, carefully and delicately wiped away the smudged nail polish with a slow, measured tone:

“The Chinese teacher has nominated me for a national poetry competition, and schoolwork has been piling up — I probably won’t be able to spend as much time with you for a while, and I won’t be able to make it to the basketball court either.”

Lin Weixia was genuinely entered in the poetry competition. When she first learned the news, she had to take a moment to absorb it — she just had a decent writing style, but she had never written poetry before and had no idea how to prepare.

Fortunately, Liu Xiping encouraged her: “You have a way with words — give it a try. And writing poetry is both enjoyable and simple. Just put down what you see and what you want to express.”

Liu Sijia raised an eyebrow, popped a piece of candy into her mouth: “Understood. You go and prepare well. Afterward I can say my best friend is not only beautiful but also a poet.”

“You’re being ridiculous.” Lin Weixia laughed and gave her arm a light pinch.

That evening, Lin Weixia opened her laptop and tried writing a few lines, found herself dissatisfied, and pressed delete. After closing the page, she browsed the school forum and online bulletin board, and the browser happened to have saved a web history link. Lin Weixia followed it back to that site called YCH.

The website was still a pitch-black expanse, cold and oppressive. The visitor count had gone up by fifty, but the page itself was empty — nothing at all.

Just as Lin Weixia was about to leave, she noticed two new posts had appeared.

Posted by a user called “Drowning Mushroom,” from last month:

I hate everything about this place.

I want to leave so badly.

No one had replied. It read like talking to oneself. The attached image was a photo of a corridor hallway — a cool-toned blue, with the banners of Shengao hanging on the walls. Lin Weixia frowned. She didn’t think she had ever seen that kind of place at school. She finally clicked on the profile of the user called “Drowning Mushroom” — completely blank. Nothing could be seen at all.

Lin Weixia sat in her chair with her arms around her knees and looked at the image for a long time, then saved it.

Since Lin Weixia had stopped inserting herself between Liu Sijia and Ban Sheng, and had been avoiding him repeatedly, she felt considerably lighter inside. She would occasionally hear Fang Mo reporting dramatically that Ban Sheng and Liu Sijia had spent time alone together again, or that some senior girl had come looking for him — and Lin Weixia would hear this and smile, her expression detached.

The meteorological bureau announced that Typhoon “Shark” had made landfall at Qionghai. It was expected to bring another round of heavy rain and a sharp temperature drop. The notification inbox on her phone filled up with weather department messages urging residents to stay away from coastal areas, with related maritime operations and passing vessels temporarily suspended.

The sky outside was a heavy grey, churning clouds billowing low. The classroom ran its lights during daylight hours. After school on Friday, Lin Weixia stayed in the classroom to work on assignments. She received a call from her aunt asking her to bring an umbrella to Gao Hang at No. 13 Middle School.

Lin Weixia glanced out at the sky — so dark it looked ready to drip black ink — then stood up, collected her things, shouldered her bag, and set out. By the time she walked out through the school gate, the sky had gone completely dark. The wind howled, sending leaves swirling through the air, and a light rain had begun to fall.

The sky was a deep, thick ash-grey. Cold air swept in, and the temperature dropped sharply. Lin Weixia stood under the bus stop shelter waiting. The rain grew heavier and denser. Cars sped past on the road one after another.

The wind came fast and fierce, shaking Lin Weixia’s umbrella violently, so that rain kept driving onto the back of her neck and trickling down her spine. The cold droplets soaked into her skin and she couldn’t help but shudder.

A black Maybach came speeding up, brakes screeching, and stopped in front of her. White water vapor billowed into the air. Lin Weixia reflexively covered her ears at the piercing sound.

The window lowered to reveal a strikingly beautiful face — Liu Sijia, a faint flush rising in the face of this lovely girl as she called over: “Weixia, where are you headed? Let Ban Sheng drive you!”

Lin Weixia shook her head and smiled in refusal: “It’s fine, I’ll just take the bus.”

The atmosphere felt, for a fleeting second, as though it had frozen solid — though whether that was the weather or something else was unclear. Liu Sijia turned to look to the other side of the car. The boy was reclining against the back seat, scrolling rapidly through his phone playing a game, not sparing a glance over.

Liu Sijia tugged at his sleeve. Ban Sheng finally deigned to look up, his eyes landing on Lin Weixia:

“Get in.”

Lin Weixia still declined. Ban Sheng gave the driver a look, and the next second the black car shot forward like an arrow released from a bow. At the same moment, the window rolled up — closing off the world to just him and Liu Sijia.

Shutting her out.

Moments later, Lin Weixia’s phone screen lit up. She wiped the moisture from it, tapped it open — Ban Sheng had sent her a message:

[Come to my place this weekend.]

He meant for that time she owed him. She was still hesitating over how to decline when Ban Sheng, as if reading her mind, slowly followed up with:

[If you don’t come, I’ll tell Liu Sijia — I’ve got my eye on you.]

Lin Weixia felt a burning sensation in her chest. She had no choice. She replied “I won’t go back on my word” and tucked her phone back in her pocket.

She waited a good while longer. The bus finally arrived. She boarded, and the vehicle pushed through the wind and rain all the way to No. 13 Middle School.

By the time Lin Weixia got off the bus, the hands of the clock were pointing to six. The school was nearly emptied of people. The darkness fell a little faster every day. Only the lights at the school gate still shone.

She walked in and searched everywhere, finally finding Gao Hang near the science building. Lin Weixia had not yet handed over the umbrella when he came running out on his own.

Gao Hang broke into a grin and pulled a face at her: “Well, big sis always comes through.”

As he got closer, she could see him more clearly. Lin Weixia noticed the injury at the corner of his mouth and asked: “What happened to you — did you get into a fight?”

Gao Hang’s expression darkened, then quickly forced itself into a smile: “No, I just bumped into something on the way.”

Lin Weixia was about to look more closely at his wound when Gao Hang slung an arm around her shoulder and pulled her forward into a jog: “Let’s just get home. If the rain gets heavier we’re in trouble.”

The two walked out through the school gate. Lin Weixia was just about to fish out her transit card when a string of casual whistles rang out from nearby. Then three or four figures emerged from the shadows.

“Hey, isn’t that Gao Hang? Come to beg for mercy yet?” The ringleader swaggered and tossed a folding knife between his hands.

Gao Hang’s expression changed. He gave a cold laugh: “Beg your mother.”

The other boy was just about to retort when he noticed Lin Weixia standing beside Gao Hang. His eyes lit up — this girl was really good-looking, like a celestial being untouched by the mortal world. Another whistle rang out: “Hey, where’d this heavenly beauty come from?”

Gao Hang immediately grabbed Lin Weixia’s arm and pushed her behind him, keeping his eyes locked on the boy, his face cold: “Looking for trouble, are you.”

The wind was blowing harder now, raindrops falling heavier — each drop stinging on the skin, with the typhoon nearly upon them. A few more words were exchanged before the group finally backed off and left.

Once they were gone, Gao Hang returned to his meek demeanor in front of her. Lin Weixia pulled her arm free and looked at him: “I won’t tell Auntie about today. But you can’t get into fights outside anymore.”

Gao Hang took her bag from her in one hand, his tone ingratiating: “I know, I know! Come on, let’s go home, sis.”

Because the typhoon had passed through, the weekend was overcast and cool. The temperature had dropped, making it exceptionally cold, and the entire city was enveloped in a white, misty dampness.

When Lin Weixia went out, she wore a soft sage-green knit cardigan that made her complexion look like smooth white jade. She held an umbrella and took public transport to the address Ban Sheng had sent her.

She had assumed they would be going to the seaside villa in the Qian-jiao district — the place Liu Sijia had visited before. But the address Ban Sheng had given was a different one: No. 1, Nanwan District.

The sky was overcast, and rows of coconut palms lined the wide road. When Lin Weixia arrived at Unit 7-3, her skirt hem and white socks were dotted with tiny white raindrops.

Lin Weixia pressed the doorbell. The surveillance camera beside the black iron gate blinked at her. She balanced her umbrella handle on her shoulder and began watching a trail of ants moving house along the ground.

In a moment, sounds came from nearby. Lin Weixia looked up. A tall figure came into view against the amber light. Ban Sheng was wearing a black hooded sweatshirt — dressed entirely in black from head to toe. He walked without an umbrella, his hood casually pulled over his head. With each step he drew closer, those imposing features pressed nearer.

He stopped at the gate. The door swung slowly open on its own, and Lin Weixia realized he had a cigarette tucked behind his ear — making him look even more rakishly disreputable.

Lin Weixia walked in under the same umbrella alongside him. Her first impression of Ban Sheng’s home was that it was empty and cold. The furniture was in a hard, European style. Smoke-grey curtains swayed in the wind. The marble floors reflected the vast, bare stillness of the space.

“The housekeeper and the driver have taken days off.”

Lin Weixia stood before the enormous floor-to-ceiling windows. To the side was a blue swimming pool, its small waves shimmering — a blue so close to the color of summer that it seemed to stretch on forever. Looking further outward, the courtyard beyond was a lush green, with the water pipe running white flowers in bloom.

Ban Sheng had been sunk into the sofa, but seeing this, he stood up. The sharp tip of his Adam’s apple slid up and down: “Look around as you like.”

“Didn’t you say no one’s allowed in your swimming pool?” Lin Weixia said.

Ban Sheng tilted his head and gave a very quiet, amused sound, just having moved to stand beside her. His tone was easy and natural:

“Are you just anyone?”

The low, cool voice — like ice colliding — pressed into her ear. Warm breath grazed her earlobe. The color behind her ear crept slowly deeper. Lin Weixia’s heart contracted suddenly.

He passed by her, slipping a hand into his pocket and pushing open the floor-to-ceiling window door with one hand. A breeze came through. Lin Weixia stepped forward — blue, as far as the eye could see.

She caught the faint scent of chlorine.

Lin Weixia walked along the edge of the pool and asked: “You really love swimming?”

“When you’re alone underwater holding your breath and you’re close to your limit, it gives you this feeling of — to hell with the world. It’s a rush.” Ban Sheng answered lazily, the truth of it impossible to determine.

Lin Weixia stood there, looking at the blue pool, and something she was thinking of caused a sharp sting in her eyes. Just then, a casual voice came from behind:

“Want to try?”

Before she had time to react, someone gave her a push from behind. Lin Weixia’s toes pivoted, and her entire body tipped forward uncontrollably. She cried out in fright — on the verge of tumbling into the cold swimming pool in the middle of a typhoon.

A hand with distinct, defined knuckles settled at her waist. With just a slight pull of force, it brought her entire body back. Lin Weixia stood there, shaken, her chest heaving. She looked at the casually indifferent face before her. Ban Sheng laughed out loud — a full, uninhibited laugh, his shoulders shaking with it.

Lin Weixia met a pair of jet-black eyes, full of mischievous amusement. She simply looked at him.

Gradually, Ban Sheng let the laughter fade from his face. He drew her forward — the distance between them mere inches. He caught the fragrance from the top of her hair. His breathing faltered. He looked at her:

“I really shouldn’t have gotten mixed up with you.”

He was the one who had lost.

Lin Weixia pulled herself free and stepped back: “It’s cold. Let’s go inside and work on the essay.”

Walking into Ban Sheng’s study was entering an entirely different world. A U-shaped sofa. A desk heaped with several books on astrophysics. A world map on the wall. A few basketball star autographed photos.

A basketball lay on its side beneath the chair.

Most striking of all were the astronomy photographs covering the wall — deep blue skies, white star trails, radiant clouds. Each photograph had a bold, sweeping signature in one corner: Ban.

Lin Weixia didn’t know much about these things, but simply looking at the scenes in the images, she knew they were sights rarely encountered in a lifetime.

“That photograph you’re looking at — I took it up a mountain in the northwest a while back. Crouched there half the night. On top of getting altitude sickness, I slid off the slope and broke my leg. To this day there are still screws in the bone. I was alone out there, my phone had no signal — there was a moment where it felt like I might actually die there.” Ban Sheng gave a self-deprecating laugh.

Lin Weixia offered her assessment: “Adventurer.”

Ban Sheng turned and handed her a glass of water. Lin Weixia looked at it — it was the salty lemon soda she liked to drink. Her fingertips touched the glass; it was room temperature. She was moved by his thoughtfulness.

Rare astronomical phenomena like these required open places, far from light pollution, to observe. Not to mention the other photographs — each one must have cost Ban Sheng enormous effort to capture.

“But isn’t it romantic? Mutual occultation between satellites — their shadows overlapping — like a heart being consumed.” Ban Sheng gazed at the photographs and said slowly.

Lin Weixia followed his gaze. Two of the Galilean moons were drawing slowly toward one another. The larger occluded the smaller, until only two shadows remained overlapping — like two solitary souls on the margins of the world, holding each other close.

“Very beautiful.” Lin Weixia said, genuinely moved.

Ban Sheng raised his eyes and watched the quiet profile of Lin Weixia’s face. He saw a strand of hair clinging to her soft cheek, falling along the side of her leg. The hand hanging at his side stirred. He raised it, wanting to tuck the strand behind her ear.

But just as his hand was about to touch the area near her ear, Lin Weixia’s guard shot up with startling sharpness. The face that was always composed showed a ripple — her voice carrying a sudden urgency: “Don’t touch me.”

Ban Sheng was briefly taken aback. He looked at Lin Weixia’s retreating figure, his expression contemplative.

Lin Weixia sat down and began reading through Ban Sheng’s essay. The further she read, the more her brow knit together — something felt wrong.

She was just about to say something when the phone on the desk let out a low, persistent buzz. She glanced at the name on the caller ID, stood up, picked up the phone, and turned her back to answer it.

“Weixia, what are we going to do? Your brother got into a fight and put someone in the hospital.” Her aunt’s panicked voice came through the receiver.

From behind came the sharp snap of the lighter casing flipping open. Lin Weixia instinctively glanced sideways — a pale strip of neck, and Ban Sheng’s fingertip turning red as smoke began to curl from his lips.

“Don’t panic, Auntie — tell me slowly.” Lin Weixia said gently.

“Your brother got into a conflict with someone at school and put them in the hospital. The other family has money and connections, and no matter how much I apologize they refuse to settle. They’re threatening to press charges against Hang-zi. What are we going to do? He’s my only child, and he’s still so young — what if this goes on his permanent record…” Her aunt, usually so commanding, was now speaking in broken, frantic sentences.

It was a rainy day, and the study was large. Even with her back turned to him, every word from the receiver fell clearly into Ban Sheng’s ears.

After Lin Weixia quietly offered some reassurance and ended the call, she turned to Ban Sheng: “I’m sorry — something’s come up at home. We’ll have to do the tutoring another time.”

She walked over, leaned down to gather her books and pen from the table. Her black hair fell from her waist in loose waves. Lin Weixia stuffed everything into her bag and was about to leave when Ban Sheng called her back.

“Which school does your brother go to?”

“No. 13 Middle School.”

“What’s the name of the family that wants to press charges?”

“I’m not entirely sure — I only know that the one Gao Hang had the conflict with is called Fang Huaiyang.”

Ban Sheng said unhurriedly: “I know the Fang Family. I’ve had dealings with Fang Huaiyang’s older brother, Fang Huaihui, on two occasions.”

Lin Weixia’s eyelashes stirred. She looked up at him. Ban Sheng was leaning forward on the sofa, tapping his cigarette to knock off the ash. He looked at her:

“One word from me, and the whole thing goes away.”

Ban Sheng held the cigarette between his teeth, lifted his eyes to watch Lin Weixia without saying more. His attitude made everything clear — as though it were simply a matter of one word from Lin Weixia.

But what she would have to offer in return — she knew perfectly well.

Ban Sheng was the kind of person who had corruption running through his very bones. A natural negotiator.

Outside, the rain grew heavier. Lin Weixia held his gaze for a few seconds, then looked away and lowered her lashes: “I should be going. The rain’s getting heavy — it’ll be hard to travel.”

With that, Lin Weixia turned away. She deliberately ignored the gaze that settled on her back and walked forward. Her hand rested on the doorframe. The wind in the hallway swept through.

Ban Sheng pressed his cigarette out in the ashtray, and let out a short, cold scoff:

“Lin Weixia. No matter what, you just won’t bring yourself to ask me.”

A laugh. Before, for that amber pendant, she had been willing to do anything.

Lin Weixia’s retreating figure stiffened — but she kept walking.

When she left, the rain was heavier than before. Lin Weixia held her umbrella and walked out of Ban Sheng’s home.

When she reached the hospital and the elevator doors opened with a soft chime, she could see from a distance that Gao Hang was slumped against the wall, his face still mottled with bruises.

Her aunt’s voice carried over from somewhere nearby, laden with grief: “My child is impulsive and doesn’t know better — I’m apologizing on his behalf. The medical expenses for Huaiyang, I’ll pay them in full, and whatever compensation you require, we’ll pay that too. I ask that you be the bigger person here…”

Her aunt was bent over, bowing and scraping, yet couldn’t get close to the other family at all. The other side maintained the cool composure befitting wealthy people. Her aunt’s heart sank halfway and she was about to fall to her knees when the assistant stopped her.

“Ms. Lin, further words are pointless. Go home and prepare to respond to the lawsuit.” The assistant adjusted his glasses.

After the crowd dispersed, her aunt turned and spotted Lin Weixia standing nearby, then shifted her gaze to Gao Hang’s bruised face. She let out a long sigh.

“Mum, let’s go home.” Gao Hang said.

Back at home, Lin Weixia went to cook. Before long, the dining table held a clear loofah soup, braised aubergine, tofu-fermented-sauce stir-fried water spinach, and leftover spare ribs from lunch.

The dinner atmosphere was completely silent. No one spoke. Lin Weixia filled a bowl of soup and placed it in front of her aunt, who still hadn’t touched her chopsticks. Gao Hang silently scooped a few mouthfuls of rice and went back to his room.

The dining room lamp had grown dim from long use. Light fell on Lin Weixia’s eyelashes, casting a shadow there. She spoke: “I’ll ask around among my classmates over the next couple of days and see if anyone can help.”

Her aunt snapped back to attention and quickly said: “Right, right — most of the students at your school come from wealthy, well-connected families. They should be able to help.”

“It’s a burden on you, worrying about your brother like this.” Her aunt placed a spare rib in Lin Weixia’s bowl.

After the typhoon passed, the weather cleared considerably, and a new week arrived. On Monday, Lin Weixia didn’t see Ning Chao from morning self-study onward — she assumed he had taken a day off.

Just before class, Ning Chao came swaggering in with a broom in one hand, a bag of soy milk clenched between his teeth. It dawned on Lin Weixia — he had been assigned to clean as punishment.

Ning Chao tossed the broom into the corner, sat down, and pounded his own shoulder: “That bloody well nearly killed me — all thanks to those jerks from No. 13 Middle School.”

At the mention of No. 13 Middle School, Lin Weixia’s ears perked up. She couldn’t help but ask: “No. 13 Middle School — do you happen to know a student in the junior high division named Fang Huaiyang?”

“Junior high? I don’t know him. What’s going on?” Ning Chao asked.

“My brother got into a fight with someone, and they’re refusing to settle — they want to press charges.” Lin Weixia lowered her gaze, her voice quieter.

Ning Chao heard the manner of rich people throwing their weight around and gave a cold laugh. At some point, without her noticing, he had slid a folding utility knife out from his sleeve. He snapped the blade open with a flick of his palm. The reflected light caught in a pair of jet-black eyes, carrying a dangerous edge:

“Want me to beat them into submission for you?”

“I’d rather not.”

Setting aside the fact that meeting violence with violence was not a reasonable approach, if things really went that way, the situation would likely spiral further out of control.

The matter sat unresolved. Ban Sheng made no effort to intercept or speak to her again — seemingly certain that Lin Weixia would come to him on her own. Meanwhile the pressure from her aunt’s side continued to mount. Lin Weixia planned that on Thursday afternoon, after the last music class, she would ask Liu Sijia and see if she could be of any help.

In the early evening, Lin Weixia and Liu Sijia were waiting for their noodles to arrive at a noodle shop. The phone in her school uniform pocket vibrated. She looked at the caller ID, held the phone, and stepped outside to take the call.

“Hello, Auntie.” A gust of wind came through, and Lin Weixia unconsciously pulled her collar closer.

Her aunt’s cheerful, relieved voice came through the receiver: “The matter with Hang-zi has been resolved. One word from someone and your brother’s classmate changed his mind — he withdrew the complaint on his own. Your brother’s record won’t have any mark against it.”

“That’s good.” Lin Weixia exhaled with relief.

“It’s all thanks to your classmate — I got a fright when he called me personally. I thanked him again and again on the phone, and he didn’t want anything — just asked if you could have a meal with him.”

“Xiaxia, be sure to go — he’s done our family such a great favour.” Her aunt stressed again and again.

Lin Weixia raised her eyes and looked at the sky. Dark clouds were churning. Apart from a brief moment of sunshine on Monday, these past few days had been overcast and rainy.

“Alright.” Lin Weixia replied to the voice on the other end of the line.

Friday started rainy from the early morning and stayed damp all day. Classmates’ umbrellas hung in rows on the corridor racks. Outside the windows, a white mist settled softly over everything.

Ban Sheng hadn’t come to school today. The seat across the aisle to Lin Weixia’s right was empty. Liu Sijia had also lost the inclination to come to her side.

As soon as class broke, girls gathered around Liu Sijia. They huddled together discussing a newly launched perfume brand, and which brand of nail polish was the most glittery.

After the final bell, Lin Weixia deliberately stayed to the very end. She worked on assignments for a while after everyone else had left, then slowly packed her bag and boarded the bus heading for No. 1, Nanwan District.

By the time she arrived at Ban Sheng’s home, it was already seven o’clock. The moment she stepped off the bus, a gust of wind nearly overturned her umbrella. The rain was growing heavier, pouring down from the sky, shattering into small blooms on the ground as each drop hit.

The black canvas of the sky swallowed everything. Fortunately, the streetlights guided the way. The rain came at her sideways, and in the warm amber glow of the lights, the whole scene looked like a faded film reel.

Lin Weixia pressed the doorbell at the entrance. This time, it wasn’t long before someone came to open it. The housekeeper led her all the way to the door, gestured that he was upstairs, and walked away.

Lin Weixia went up to the second floor and stood in the entrance foyer. She found the living room dark — not a single light was on — save for small points of light filtering in through the floor-to-ceiling windows from the courtyard outside.

Thinking there was no one there, she was just about to turn her head away when she caught sight of a dark figure along the south-facing wall beside the floor-to-ceiling windows. He leaned against the wall, his posture careless and unhurried — only a slightly upturned jaw visible, and the glowing red tip of a cigarette between his fingers.

Lin Weixia pressed the switch on the wall. With a sharp click, the room flooded with light. Ban Sheng was leaning against the wall, back turned to whoever had come in. His whole bearing was suffused with dejection. Several cigarette butts of varying lengths lay at his feet, some still trailing tiny wisps of smoke.

Lin Weixia walked over, hugging her bag, and sat down across from him. Only then could she see Ban Sheng’s face clearly. He was wearing a black jacket today, one shoulder soaked through — a deep, saturated patch of darkness. His black brows and eyes still held water droplets, and his face bore several distinct streaks of injury — cuts of varying depths, one long wound that looked as though he had been slashed by something.

His mood was at rock bottom.

To be honest, from the very first time Lin Weixia had met Ban Sheng, she had felt that he carried an indomitable pride — but at the same time, something in him was solitary and desolate. He had drawn a circle around himself and made it his own territory, letting no one close.

It was just that Ban Sheng was far too skilled at concealment and keeping a composed surface. Almost no one could see through it.

But today was different. Lin Weixia could sense that Ban Sheng had sunk all the way to his bones — his whole body wrapped in darkness, the attitude of someone who had stopped caring about anything. It was a heavy, suffocating black, thick enough to make breathing difficult.

“Thank you for what you did for Gao Hang. If not for your kindness and warm-heartedness in helping out, my brother wouldn’t have…” Lin Weixia delivered the lines she had rehearsed.

She was still speaking when Ban Sheng let out a sudden, icy scoff, without so much as looking at her. He said without mercy:

“Lin Weixia, could you possibly be any more fake?”

Lin Weixia paused, still trying to find something to say, when Ban Sheng finally lifted his gaze. His tone was flat:

“If you don’t want to be here, get out.”