◎A World Renewed◎

Chun Zao rarely had moments of such confrontation. She had been introverted and reserved since childhood, her approach to interpersonal relationships always involving far more internal processing than actual expression.

She admitted that tonight she had been somewhat slow on the uptake, mainly because—Zhao Yuning’s appearance hadn’t immediately made her think in terms of “romantic relationships,” so she failed to make timely judgments and responses to Yuan Ye’s abnormal words and behavior.

Furthermore, there was still an invisible fortress in her subconscious, like a long-haired princess living atop a high tower, who had never dared hope that anyone could climb up to rescue her, much less push herself into danger and leap down.

So when someone called to her from the ground, showing her the flowers and strawberries of the outside world, the festivals and songs, she would be delighted, would be uncontrollably attracted, but would also hesitate and be selfish, harboring a sense of luck. As long as she didn’t explicitly violate the witch’s curse, she remained within the safety line, and the familiar tower top wouldn’t shake or collapse.

She liked Yuan Ye very much. The kind of liking she had never experienced before.

But she couldn’t bring herself to say it out loud, and then what—dating?

Could she, constrained and hesitant as she was, manage it?

So when replying to this message, lying in bed, she only felt herself filled with a resolute yet contradictory aching fullness. She couldn’t directly confess: Yuan Ye, I like you.

She couldn’t be like her friends, completely uninhibited.

She could only tell him that in her eyes, he was different. Different from anyone else. He was the most unique, the only one, irreplaceable.

This was the most courageous answer she could give at the moment.

The chat interface remained silent for a long time.

She wasn’t sure whether Yuan Ye had seen this message in time, or perhaps her overly direct response had startled him, leaving him momentarily uncertain how to respond.

Chun Zao stared at the screen for a full five minutes before there was finally movement on the other end.

Also very straightforward.

Yuan Ye: Tomorrow, after the evening study hall ends, I’ll go wait for you at your class.

Chun Zao folded up one side of her pillow and buried her face in it, laughing.

After laughing enough, she had to dampen his enthusiasm again, because this was too high-profile: No way.

The rejected person predictably responded:?

Chun Zao cleared her throat and offered a compromise: At the alley entrance, by the second streetlight. From now on, if I arrive first, I’ll wait for you; if you arrive first, then you wait for me, and we’ll go home together.

After sending this, she hid her phone under the covers, not daring to look at Yuan Ye’s response, not daring to judge whether he would agree or protest.

Besides, her face had already heated up like a hot griddle that could fry eggs.

Her heart rate was also skyrocketing.

Taking a deep breath, when she took out her phone again, she saw the boy’s reply with almost no time delay.

Just one word: Okay.

Chun Zao’s eyes curved into crescents as she added a clarification: When we get downstairs, we’ll separate to go upstairs. I’m afraid Ms. Chun will ask too many questions.

He still replied: Okay.

Couldn’t he say something other than “okay”?

So she asked exactly that: Can’t you say something other than okay?

Yuan Ye: Ok.

Yuan Ye: No problem.

Yuan Ye: Zero objections.

Yuan Ye: Unconditional agreement.

Yuan Ye: It’s all that I should do.

Yuan Ye: All according to what you say.

Chun Zao read through each message one by one, her face nearly numb from smiling. If they continued chatting, she would have insomnia, so she could only force herself to calm down—well, she couldn’t calm down at all, so she had to say goodnight early, forcibly cutting the power, temporarily stopping the heart-fluttering switch that had already gone haywire and was spinning wildly.

Chun Zao: Good night, I need to sleep.

Yuan Ye: Good night.

However, how could anyone possibly put down their phone and fall asleep after saying “good night”? Yuan Ye sat at his desk, scrolling through tonight’s chat records from top to bottom countless times, finally stopping at Chun Zao’s gentle reminder, “We’ll go home together.”

He was certain this was the best night he’d had in years. That swelling sense of joy could burst through the windows from his room. Besides “okay,” what else could he say?

It was asking the impossible.

Without a doubt.

Yuan Ye had insomnia. In the early morning hours, lying in bed, he would still occasionally open his phone to confirm this wasn’t a fantasy or a dream.

Unable to toss and turn any longer, he got up again and pulled out the Olympiad problems that had been stored away at the bottom of his things. With a slight smile at the corner of his mouth, he swiftly completed half a test paper. It was only three o’clock.

How had the night become so long?

He glanced again at the empty white wall. Was she asleep? She must be asleep—she has to attend classes tomorrow. He could bear the burden of sleep deprivation alone.

Near five o’clock, biological instincts finally defeated dopamine, and a trace of drowsiness arose. Yuan Ye set an alarm for half an hour, 5:30, when Chun Zao usually got up.

When he walked out of his room right on time, Chun Chuzhen, who was preparing ingredients in the kitchen, heard the door and turned around, startled by the refreshed-looking teenager.

“You’re up so early today?”

Yuan Ye: “Didn’t sleep well.”

Chun Chuzhen frowned, somehow feeling this answer was strangely familiar.

Chun Zao naturally hadn’t slept well either, but she hadn’t stayed awake nearly all night like next door. Around two o’clock, she had no choice but to search online for meditation sleep methods, finally managing to send herself into orange-pink dreams.

This morning, Chun Zao ate breakfast as usual, and Yuan Ye left home as usual.

Everything was normal.

And everything was completely out of order, or rather, the story had turned to a new chapter—a world renewed.

Arriving at class, Yuan Ye was stopped in his tracks by the unanimous stares and eyebrow dancing of his deskmate and front and back seat neighbors: “Are you guys okay? Got Parkinson’s?”

Tu Wenwei let him pass, dropping a comment: “Bro Ye, who would have thought? You’ve been hiding it pretty deep.”

Yuan Ye instantly guessed the reason for their early morning antics. He glanced at Zhao Yuning’s seat but didn’t respond.

Everyone wasn’t planning to let him off so easily. Xu Shuzhou, grinning with his big teeth, started rapping: “Yo yo, who is it, yo yo, who’s in love yo.”

Yuan Ye’s eyebrow twitched: “Who’s in love?”

“Chun Zao?” Tu Wenwei smugly played his trump card.

Yuan Ye immediately became serious: “I’m warning you, don’t talk nonsense.”

Tu Wenwei covered his mouth and spoke in a high-pitched voice: “Oh, oh, oh okay okay okay, not in love, just living together.”

Yuan Ye: “…”

What could he do?

Pay the price for his childishness and impulsiveness.

Lie flat and accept the mockery.

But it was also good—in the entire first class, he wanted to see which blind fool would dare approach Chun Zao again.

The English teacher came to supervise morning reading. Amid the loud reading voices, Tu Wenwei took the opportunity to whisper with him: “I told you I have eagle eyes, right?”

Yuan Ye looked at him sideways: “What?”

“Remember when we looked at the rankings last time? I said I could guess right every time, didn’t I? A man’s intuition.”

Yuan Ye laughed softly: “Hard to evaluate.”

“How is it hard to evaluate?”

“Half smart, half stupid.”

“You’re the one who was being all mysterious. Wouldn’t it have been better to admit it earlier?”

How could he admit it earlier? Yuan Ye felt quite wronged—would he dare speak up if she didn’t make it clear? He just hadn’t expected the news to spread so fast, becoming known to the whole class overnight. He frowned: “How did you guys find out?”

“I saw the chat records in the gaming group.” Tu Wenwei lowered his voice.

Yuan Ye got straight to the point: “You guys have a gaming group I don’t know about?”

“You’re too good—sometimes we don’t want to bring you along.”

“…” Yuan Ye asked: “What chat records?”

Tu Wenwei pondered: “The profile pictures were cropped out, don’t know who from our class it was, was trying to pursue Chun Zao from Class 3, told the matchmaker he hit an iron wall, said his competition was you, and that you guys even live together. Damn, too explosive. I wanted to tell you last night, but I thought it would be more fun to laugh at you together with the bros today—double the happiness.”

“Oh…” Yuan Ye responded flatly, unusually not retorting.

Tu Wenwei decided to leave him some dignity and didn’t continue oversharing, starting to recite the English text.

Yuan Ye looked at him: “Continue.”

“Continue what?”

Continue the gossip. The person who called for an “iron wall” loved hearing it.

Forget it. Too lazy to ask.

“Send me those chat records to look at.”

“Hehe, depends on my mood.”

“I’ll buy you a drink at lunch.”

“Deal.”

—

The romantic news rapidly fermenting within the class had not yet affected the surrounding area. At this moment, Chun Zao was still calmly reciting ancient poetry. The only change was that whenever she had a free moment, she would think of Yuan Ye, more than before, happening randomly, intensifying, and she would unconsciously smile for a long time.

She could only blame last night’s heart-to-heart conversation.

Every time this happened, she could only pour back those honey-thick sweet thoughts, fasten the wooden lid, and forcibly seal them away.

During morning exercises, Chun Zao noticed something unusual.

Because when Class 1’s formation passed by their class, or rather, when they passed by her, several not-too-loud but impossible-to-ignore male voices would call out strangely. Yuan Ye’s highly recognizable, clear voice mixed in among them, saying irritably: Can you guys shut up?

Chun Zao, mixed in with her formation, didn’t dare turn to look for confirmation, just remained motionless, not even daring to flutter her eyelashes.

Only after their formation had completely passed did she secretly curve the corner of her mouth.

As one of the grade’s top information network leaders, Tong Yue obviously wouldn’t miss such bombshell gossip. But she didn’t want to add psychological burden to her habitually low-key friend, so she didn’t bring it up proactively.

Now that Class 1’s male apes had made such a scene, she was afraid Chun Zao would suspect her, so as soon as exercises ended, she grabbed her, pointing two fingers to the sky, declaring earnestly: “It wasn’t me! I swear the thing between you and Yuan Ye wasn’t spread by me!”

Chun Zao said gently: “I know it wasn’t you.”

Tong Yue snorted: “It’s that big mouth Tan Xiao.”

Chun Zao had figured it out. Honestly, she had been somewhat mentally prepared. Yuan Ye’s campus reputation was what it was. Conversely, she was a bit worried about causing him negative impact, social bad reviews, because compared to him, in others’ eyes, she was probably just an “insignificant” and “unknown” bookworm.

Before the evening study hall dismissal bell had rung, Yuan Ye had already packed his backpack, picking up the watch beside his pencil case to check countless times, finally buckling the watch strap right as the bell rang. The moment their homeroom teacher stepped out of the classroom, he smoothly pulled out his backpack and stood up.

Ha, you have today too. Tu Wenwei deliberately tormented him, lounging in his chair and refusing to move.

Yuan Ye pushed his left shoulder: “Move.”

Tu Wenwei rubbed the spot: “What are you doing? Giving a massage?”

Yuan Ye kicked his chair leg.

Xu Shuzhou turned around with a sympathetic expression: “Stop messing with him. He’s busy picking up his girlfriend.”

“Beg me. Weren’t you usually so cool?”

Yuan Ye glanced at Xu Shuzhou’s empty chair in the front row, directly supported himself on his desk, and flipped over, making a loud crash that made several nearby students stop packing their books and stare in shock.

“I give up.” Tu Wenwei was instantly dumbfounded, watching his retreating figure and murmuring.

Walking out of the classroom, Yuan Ye glanced toward Class 3, where crowds were flowing, then stepped down the stairs.

In the twilight and lamplight, the teenager’s black hair rippled as he flew past under the glossy camphor leaves. Of course, he no longer needed to go to the shed to get his bike, because he hadn’t ridden it. Starting today, the six-thousand-yuan mountain bike was retiring early, officially idle.

Chun Zao didn’t want to appear too different from usual, nor did she want to be accused by friends of valuing romance over friendship. Despite feeling particularly anxious throughout this journey, her thoughts had long been scattered, flying far away to outside the school gate, in the small alley, under the second streetlight.

Pretending to be calm until she said goodbye to Tong Yue at the alley entrance, she clenched her hands and quickened her pace, heading toward their agreed meeting place.

When she spotted the teenager by the curb in the distance, she couldn’t help but beam.

He did the same.

How could he smile so beautifully, so effortlessly, even the slightest smile was radiant, making it impossible to look at him normally… Chun Zao slightly averted her gaze, desperately needing oxygen before she could look back, and his gaze was still on her face, as if it had never left, not even for half a second.

“You got here so fast?” Stopping in front of him, like meeting someone for the first time, opening remarks became unexpectedly difficult.

Yuan Ye slid down from the curb, suddenly coming close, close enough to make her breath catch: “Could I let you wait?”

Chun Zao lowered her head and lifted the corners of her mouth.

She asked again: “Where’s your bike?”

Yuan Ye said, “Didn’t ride it.”

“It’s inconvenient to fit a back seat passenger. What’s the point of having it?”

His disdainful tone made Chun Zao laugh out loud, feeling she was overreacting, so she turned her face away.

Yuan Ye followed her gaze: “What are you laughing at?”

Chun Zao pressed her lips: “Just… think your bicycle is a bit pitiful.”

Yuan Ye hummed low: “Shouldn’t you pity me instead?”

Chun Zao glanced at him: “Why should I pity you?”

The boy extended a hand: “Your backpack.” After all, heavy work was transferred to his shoulders from now on.

Chun Zao was stunned, then realized his intention, feeling a bit shy: “No need—it’s not heavy…”

“Give it here.” His tone brooked no argument, as if declaring he wouldn’t say it twice.

Chun Zao could only take off her backpack and hand it over, adding a reminder: “Give it back to me when we reach the community gate.”

“Got it.” Yuan Ye lightly took it, switching it to his other hand so it wouldn’t create a barrier between them.

The boy and girl walked side by side toward the familiar alley corner, their shadows occasionally mingling on the brick path. The crescent moon in the sky was like a gentle, smiling eye, quietly observing this human world.

“During morning exercises today, I heard your boys…” Ghost calling? Jeering? Making noise? The high-scoring essay writer was at a loss for words, not knowing how to describe it precisely.

“Heh…” Yuan Ye’s voice also seemed somewhat annoyed, and he explained: “Don’t mind them, they’re all crazy.”

Chun Zao asked: “When you encountered this kind of thing before, would they act like this too?”

Yuan Ye: “What kind of thing?”

Chun Zao thought hard for an appropriate but embarrassing summary: “Being spread as ‘gossip’?”

He immediately became serious: “What ‘gossip’? Don’t try to set me up.”

Chun Zao raised her voice, dissatisfied with his immediate accusation: “Who’s setting you up?”

Yuan Ye flattened his tone: “They wouldn’t act like this.” And emphasized again: “Never like this before.”

Chun Zao mumbled: “Why not?”

Yuan Ye: “The previous ones, I would clarify.”