On Friday, a tropical storm system formed out at sea, then abruptly changed course and arrived at the city ahead of schedule. Before long, the weather bureau upgraded it to a red rainstorm warning.

With persistent lightning alerts still in effect across the district where Shengao was located, the school experienced a large-scale power outage that afternoon. To ensure student safety, the school dismissed after only one class and transitioned to self-study.

Students were free to move about — but were not permitted to leave campus.

The classroom atmosphere immediately perked up. Students began turning around to chat. Others sat with earphones plugged in, staring at their textbooks with detached expressions.

People start from different places. The cost of time is different for everyone.

High cumulonimbus clouds hung in the sky, dense and heavy-looking, harboring the threat of an incoming typhoon.

Today was Lin Weixia’s day on cleaning duty. She and another girl spent most of the afternoon mopping the floors until they were immaculate, leaving her back aching. Once they finished, the bespectacled girl said goodbye and headed back to the classroom first.

Lin Weixia washed the mop clean, propped it on the rack, and set the bucket in its place. The floor was spotless and fresh. With everything in order, Lin Weixia felt a cramping ache in her lower abdomen.

She had the nagging sense that her period was about to start.

Lin Weixia sat on the toilet, staring at the door of the stall — someone had been at the panels with a red marker, scrawling crooked lines of text: “Die you trash,” or “I’m [idol name]’s girlfriend.” There were also declarations like “Best friends forever with Zhang Lan.” Amid the dense cluster of scrawlings, one line read — “Lin Weixia is a bitch.”

Written in red marker, uneven and sprawling, the characters startlingly large.

Lin Weixia stared at it. Her raven-feather lashes dropped. She stood, pressed the flush, reached for the door latch with a click, and pushed outward. The door didn’t move — as if something on the other side was bracing against it.

She pushed harder. Still nothing — only a narrow crack appeared.

Lin Weixia stepped back two paces, the calmness still on her face, and then kicked it hard. The door flew open with a bang. A mop handle fell at her feet.

At the same moment, half a basin of water came crashing down from above, mixed with chalk dust. The murky water rushed toward Lin Weixia — she reacted fast, twisting sideways to dodge, but couldn’t avoid it entirely.

The water poured directly down her right side, drenching her dark hair, her right shoulder completely soaked. Her clothes felt damp and foul against her skin, and she caught the acrid, unpleasant smell.

It happened in an instant. The hearing aid in her right ear, hit by the contaminated water, immediately emitted a sharp, intermittent squealing that drilled painfully into her ear.

Lin Weixia felt a sudden lurch in her chest — she could barely breathe. She pressed her left hand to her chest, gasping in deep pulls of air, and with her other hand she swiftly, cleanly removed the hearing aid from her right ear.

Half the world’s sound disappeared.

In another part of the school, a chestnut-haired girl was bent over, carefully applying nail polish to Liu Sijia’s fingers, while other girls clustered around — some holding fashion magazines to suggest styles, others chatting nearby.

“Xing, you’re so clever — that bathroom idea you came up with for Sijia was brilliant,” someone complimented her.

The chestnut-haired girl held Liu Sijia’s right hand, bending low to gently blow the nail polish dry. Her full red lips curved with self-satisfaction:

“Hmph, who told her to mess with Sijia.”

“What?” Liu Sijia’s expression registered shock.

The girls had been about to deliver their report to Liu Sijia and take credit for it. The plan had originally been the chestnut-haired girl’s idea — the others had carried it out — and they hadn’t told Liu Sijia at the time precisely because they were afraid she would hesitate or refuse.

The chestnut-haired girl was about to accept the praise when a powerful rush of air hit.

In an instant, a basin of filthy water came sloshing down over them, along with several cockroaches mixed in.

The chestnut-haired girl got a faceful of dirty water, sputtering and spitting out grit, her expression comically undignified — nothing like her previous composed, superior air. She was just about to explode in rage when she looked down at her blouse and found two large cockroaches crawling across it. She went white with horror: “Ahh—!”

“Ahh ahh ahh, get them off!” The girls swatted at their own bodies with textbooks in frantic desperation, trying to dislodge the cockroaches.

They were absolutely terrified of cockroaches. Even the usually composed Liu Sijia completely fell apart — her face in full-scale panic as she jumped around in horror.

They shrieked and flailed, some even scared to tears, letting out piercing cries. They looked ridiculous — like clowns. The scene descended into complete chaos. The people who had been crowing with triumph moments ago were now in a dismal state — their expensive clothes drenched, their carefully styled hair in disarray. The chestnut-haired girl was so furious her eyes went red.

Unfortunately for them, cockroaches love moisture. They were going to have a very extended acquaintance with the insects crawling over them.

The girls were still screaming and slapping at themselves when a tall figure appeared before them. Their field of vision swept upward: two straight, pale legs below the hem of a plaid narrow skirt, and continuing upward — a face that was remote and beautiful.

“Lin Weixia!” The chestnut-haired girl screamed her name, her voice at the height of fury.

Lin Weixia stood before them with both hands in her pockets, her amber-colored eyes narrowed, her presence commanding, her voice cool and clear:

“Enjoying the bullying game? Isolation, exclusion, targeting people… What else have you got?”

The girls had not expected Lin Weixia to fight back — because she ordinarily looked like someone who would back down, someone with a gentle temperament. Yet her expression was composed, and she looked as if none of this touched her — even radiating a sense that she was waiting for them to bring it on.

That gave them all a jolt, sending a chill crawling over them.

Opinion began to shift. People were no longer cold, detached spectators. The majority now speaking up were F-tier students, and before long, some A-tier students who had been on the receiving end of similar treatment joined in the condemnation.

“These people have some nerve. Honestly, enough.”

“They bullied me before too. Seeing them like this now — ha. They had it coming.”

Liu Sijia flung the dirty water from her hair and looked directly at Lin Weixia.

Lin Weixia met her gaze and held it. The red butterfly birthmark on Lin Weixia’s pale cheek seemed to flutter as she spoke — as though it might take flight, an eerily beautiful sight.

Like a poisonous butterfly.

For the first time these girls had been turned on and struck back at. The voices of judgment around them made them genuinely uncomfortable — a fear had taken root inside them.

So Lin Weixia was not as harmless as she appeared.

The standoff held. The chestnut-haired girl stepped forward, her eyes boring into Lin Weixia, her hand raised and swinging hard toward her face — when a voice cut through, patience entirely exhausted, slow and bearing down with pressure:

“Are you finished?”

The chestnut-haired girl’s raised hand trembled mid-air. The girls, the bystanders, and Liu Sijia all looked over — it was Ban Sheng, coming down from the observatory.

Ban Sheng had one hand in his pocket, the humid weight of the typhoon day clinging to him, a brooding air radiating off his entire person. He walked forward, and the crowd parted automatically to let him through.

In front of everyone, he pulled Lin Weixia behind him in one swift motion.

“Apologize,” Ban Sheng said, slow and deliberate.

He was looking at Liu Sijia.

Liu Sijia’s eyes — which had been stubbornly refusing to cry — suddenly brimmed over. Didn’t he see how badly Lin Weixia had gotten them in return? Her voice rose and quavered: “Why should I? I didn’t do anything!”

This had nothing to do with her — Liu Sijia genuinely hadn’t known. The chestnut-haired girl was shrinking her neck and trying to disappear behind Liu Sijia, afraid Ban Sheng would come after her.

“You — step forward,” Ban Sheng looked at the chestnut-haired girl and spoke quietly, his tone contemptuous.

Three seconds passed in a standoff. The chestnut-haired girl came forward. Ban Sheng’s eyes were razor-sharp as he stared at her. What his gaze communicated needed no words.

Whether she apologized was up to her. In one minute, whatever happened next was up to him.

The chestnut-haired girl felt her stomach go cold under that stare, her voice coming out unsteady: “I’m sorry.”

This whole game had started with Liu Sijia — because she had cast herself in the role of the victim, and those who supported her had borrowed her power to let loose the cruelty they had long been holding in check:

“Why does it have to be Lin Weixia — why does she get all this attention?”

“What makes her so special, anyway?”

But it wasn’t over.

Ban Sheng raised his eyes to the one who had started it all, and in front of everyone present, he asked her directly:

“Liu Sijia — how many times have I turned you down?”

The question landed like a thunderclap. The onlookers exchanged glances — well. Being publicly turned down like that was quite something for the queen to swallow. Getting worked up over an unreturned feeling to this degree?

Liu Sijia said nothing. She didn’t dare. Ban Sheng had turned her down clearly — he had told her he didn’t like her and never would. She clenched her teeth and stayed silent.

Three times.

Given that Liu Sijia was a girl, Ban Sheng still gave her some face in front of everyone by not pressing the point — instead he shifted, his sharp gaze sweeping across Liu Sijia and the entire group of girls, his voice measured:

“Keep what you’ve been doing out of my sight. Don’t let me catch you.”

“I’m saying this once, with everyone here to hear it,” Ban Sheng said, the muscle in his jaw ticking subtly, his voice slow and absolutely final — addressing every person present in a single warning.

“Whoever touches Lin Weixia is picking a fight with me.”

Ban Sheng’s eyes moved over every person in the crowd. Not one of them dared meet his gaze. Ban Sheng was not someone to be provoked — and if he got involved, no one’s life would be easy.

Everyone watched, hearts in their throats, as Ban Sheng seized Lin Weixia by the arm and cut a path through the crowd. His neck was perfectly straight, the side of his neck pulsing with a visible tension — as though he was holding back a fury that was on the verge of erupting.

The crowd opened before them. Liu Sijia and the others could only watch as Ban Sheng walked Lin Weixia away.

“Boom.” A crack of lightning split the dark gray sky with a roll of thunder. Students startled and scrambled back to their seats.

And with that — the long-premeditated storm finally broke.

In the end, Ban Sheng took Lin Weixia to the school’s observatory, located in the hills at the back of campus. They got a little wet on the way through the covered walkway.

He hadn’t spoken the entire time. The tension between them had reached a peak. Lin Weixia knew he was holding in his anger — and she knew it was because he was hurting for her.

The hand Ban Sheng was holding her by moved slightly. Her little finger gently grazed his palm — a soothing gesture. He turned back, his eyes meeting hers, and Lin Weixia gave a small smile:

“I’m fine.”

Ban Sheng said nothing. He pressed his thumb to the fingerprint lock, and with a soft beep the door swung open on sensor. Lin Weixia stepped inside and found herself in something like an oval-shaped rectangular chamber. The walls all around were embedded with large LED screens, and the images they displayed were all kinds of nebulae — spectacularly clear and vividly colored. She even spotted a purple nebula shaped like an elephant.

At the center was a spiral staircase leading up to the second floor, where the stargazing equipment was housed — though right now everything was dark and nothing could be seen.

“Come here,” Ban Sheng called to her.

Lin Weixia followed Ban Sheng into a room on the ground floor — it appeared to be a lounge, with a U-shaped sofa, a small refrigerator beside it, and a projector and screen opposite the sofa.

Lin Weixia sat on the sofa to rest. She watched as Ban Sheng took a carton of milk from the fridge, then somehow produced a small milk pot from somewhere. He warmed the milk with an unhurried air, his broad shoulders stretching the black T-shirt across his back — a frame forged by the sharp, feral growing-up of a young man’s bones.

Shortly, bubbles formed in the pot with soft gurgling sounds, and the scent of warm milk filled the entire room.

Ban Sheng carried the warmed milk over and settled beside Lin Weixia. As he sat down, he pressed down a corner of her skirt, then tilted his chin toward her to signal her to drink. Lin Weixia took the cup and began drinking. The milk was hot enough to sting the tip of her tongue slightly — but once it went down, every part of her felt soothed. Ban Sheng then produced a white towel from somewhere and began drying her hair with it, murmuring,

“Make do with this.”

Ban Sheng leaned against her, one knee bent up on the sofa, his movements unhurried as he worked through her hair, his fingers passing through occasionally before the warm towel came down again. The scent of him made her feel at ease.

When a person moves from a tightly wound environment into a comfortable space, the nerves relax all at once. Lin Weixia suddenly felt very tired. She had been ignoring the girls’ campaign against her — endurance was the thing she was most practiced at. But the moment the water hit her hearing aid, the anger inside her had ignited.

Playing along with their game was not something she was willing to do.

The exhaustion came rolling in. Lin Weixia rested her head against the sofa back, watching the boy before her — all she could make out was the clean line of his jaw. She reached up and tugged lightly at the hem of his shirt.

Ban Sheng lowered his head, his eyes meeting hers, and spoke slowly:

“You never say anything when something’s wrong.”

Lin Weixia turned to look at him, her gaze on the small mole near Ban Sheng’s nose bridge — there was something in it that made it alluring. Her fingers moved slightly. She really wanted to touch it.

This boy in front of her was steady and reliable, and he made her feel safe. She opened her mouth and found herself asking, out of nowhere:

“Ban Sheng — how long are you going to put up with me?”

Outside, the storm rained on. Dampness seeped through. Raindrops clung to the floor-to-ceiling windows and streaked steadily downward. Ban Sheng’s damp hand touched her hair, the contact feather-light — more like a caress. His gaze wrapped around hers.

Lin Weixia’s right hearing aid had already been removed. Her left ear’s hearing had been affected long ago too and wasn’t fully intact — but she still heard him say:

“As long as you say.”

“Unless one day you’re the one who lets me go.”