The building had a music store. Wei Qingyue had come to buy a few small items.

Jiang Du observed him quietly from her corner. Her grandfather was right beside her — she had to appear natural. If she were to greet him, it needed to look like nothing more than the most ordinary acquaintance relationship between schoolmates.

But in truth, that was exactly what they were.

The weather was cold, and Jiang Du’s throat wasn’t in great shape. An itch crept up, and she felt the urge to cough — but was afraid of drawing Wei Qingyue’s attention. So she covered her mouth with her hand, like a small cat, and let out two stifled little sounds. Her grandfather suddenly called out: “Jiang Du, do you have a cold?”

Oh no…

She immediately panicked. Sure enough — Wei Qingyue turned around. He pushed his hood back, revealing his grown-out hair, slightly disheveled, but unexpectedly… very good-looking. She liked his hair.

Jiang Du awkwardly squeezed out a tiny smile and raised her hand just a little: “Hi.”

She didn’t even know why she’d greeted him that way. *Hi* — of all things. But that was just what schoolmates did when they ran into each other outside — a casual hi.

Her grandfather looked between the two of them in surprise, clearly not having expected the boy who’d just gotten in to be someone Jiang Du knew.

The elevator doors opened. Wei Qingyue and the two of them got off on the same floor. He was more natural and composed than she was — he smiled easily and said: “What a coincidence.” Then, without any awkwardness, he also greeted Jiang Du’s grandfather. Her grandfather, quick and direct as always, told Wei Qingyue straight away that Jiang Du was here to find a tutor, and asked whether he was also thinking of taking extra lessons.

She instantly turned embarrassed scarlet and tugged at the corner of her grandfather’s sleeve, saying with some discomfort: “He’s our school’s top-ranked student.”

The moment the words were out of her mouth she regretted them. With elders, it was always like this — if they found out that someone you knew ranked first in the whole school, what followed was an avalanche of *”How impressive,” “Look at how that person studies”* and every variation of that sentiment, raining down endlessly.

Her grandfather wasn’t quite that dramatic, but he did give Wei Qingyue a thumbs up and said with a warm smile: “Jiang Du, you really should learn from your classmate — the right approach to studying makes all the difference.”

Wei Qingyue maintained his basic courtesy. Quickly, he said: “I need to head over that way — see you.”

“Goodbye.” Jiang Du gave a stiff little wave, and the heart she’d been holding in her chest quietly settled back down. She didn’t quite dare look her grandfather in the eye, for fear that he’d notice something. Walking alongside him, she explained: “Grandfather, Wei Qingyue and I aren’t even in the same class — we don’t really know each other well. That’s why I didn’t say hello in the elevator. And then you told me to learn from him.”

Her grandfather waved it off: “What’s wrong with that — classmates should help each other.”

That sentence made Jiang Du laugh again. It sounded like something out of an elementary school teacher’s lesson. She said: “If every person went to ask him for help, would he ever get to study himself?”

During the trial lesson, her grandfather headed home first. When she was small, he would ride his bicycle to drop her off and pick her up from her interest classes — she would be in a little skirt and knee-high socks, the bow on her shoes trembling in the wind with each step. Later, she learned to take the bus on her own. Now she was a high schooler — whenever something was a first time, her grandfather still insisted on accompanying her.

So having no father and no mother — it seemed like it wasn’t such a big problem after all.

She hadn’t expected that today would bring coincidence upon coincidence. During the break between classes, near the bathroom, she ran into Wei Qingyue again.

Today truly felt like she was under the favor of some benevolent star. Jiang Du held her breath.

“Why do you always like to pretend you don’t see people?” Wei Qingyue laughed, his eyes bright.

*Because I like you, that’s why I pretend not to see you.* Jiang Du blinked, came back to her senses, and hurriedly offered a flustered explanation: “No, it’s not like that.”

As she spoke, the girl gripped the hem of her clothes.

“I’m joking.” Wei Qingyue peered past her shoulder for a moment. “Here for math tutoring?”

Jiang Du nodded, then couldn’t resist asking: “What about you? I noticed you had something like a guitar on your back — do you play an instrument?”

“Just fooling around with it for fun.”

“You really know how to do so many things.” She offered the compliment cautiously.

Wei Qingyue looked entirely unbothered: “Just messing around — I’m not even that good. Just to pass the time.” He always spoke like this — making everything feel light, like a feather, as if there were nothing in this world that carried any real weight for him.

“I think you must play very well. Just like with studying — you seem to handle it all with ease.” Jiang Du tried her best to sound like a person who knew how to hold a conversation, inwardly rehearsing frantically what to say next even as she listened to his last words.

Wei Qingyue smiled: “It’s nothing — just casual practice.”

There was a certain kind of high-achieving student who hated anyone suggesting they worked hard, or who hated being caught putting in effort — they always said they’d done badly, hadn’t prepared enough… and yet, exam after exam, the results were just as good as ever. Wei Qingyue never said things he didn’t mean. He wasn’t falsely modest, and he didn’t boast. He said what was true, without feeling the need to prove anything — and Jiang Du knew immediately that he meant it.

It was strange. She believed everything Wei Qingyue said, without question.

“If only I were half as clever as you — and I still need tutoring.” She said it with quiet restraint.

Wei Qingyue had the look of someone who felt completely neutral about it all — unhurried and unconcerned. “What’s there to tutor in math? It’s the same things over and over.”

Jiang Du felt embarrassed at that, as though she were some sort of hopeless case — and she had no idea how to respond.

Wei Qingyue finally realized his phrasing had been less than ideal. He laughed a little and tried again: “I didn’t mean you’re slow. Maybe…” He paused to think for a moment. “You just haven’t had the spark yet — it hasn’t clicked.”

The boy glanced down at his watch. “I should get going.”

She had no desire to wish time would stop — only that it would pass a little more slowly was enough. Jiang Du contained her feelings and smiled lightly: “Mm. Goodbye.”

Wei Qingyue had already turned to go, but suddenly looked back and called her name: “Jiang Du.”

It was the most ordinary thing in the world — just calling someone’s name — yet Jiang Du felt as though her chest were filled all at once with a fine, dense ache, something quietly pulling at her from within. She didn’t know why it felt so overwhelming.

She steadied herself and turned: “Is there something else?”

“That Wang Jingjing…” Wei Qingyue had been struck by a passing impulse to ask, but as the words reached his lips they seemed to dissolve in the air — he wasn’t sure how to say what he meant. He shook his head with a smile. “Never mind. Your essay got read aloud in class by the Chinese teacher again.”

Jiang Du could only smooth a strand of hair at her temple: “Honestly, my essays aren’t that remarkable.”

“I’m not sure if it’s my imagination…” Wei Qingyue trailed off, blinking once. Then he pivoted abruptly. “That tree in front of the school library — at night, it looks like a person just standing there. Have you ever noticed it?”

Her heartbeat suddenly spiraled beyond control — blindsiding her completely. Jiang Du even forgot to blink. He knew something. Why was he asking this? Their gazes met, like a dragonfly’s brief touch on the surface of still water.

She forced herself to look puzzled, though her voice trembled slightly: “A tree? There’s a tree near the library? I don’t think I’ve noticed.”

“Is that so?” Wei Qingyue couldn’t quite identify what he felt hearing that answer — something subtle, hazy, no single word could capture it accurately. He smiled faintly without sound, turned, and walked away.

The boy disappeared at last into the elevator. Jiang Du stood where she was, momentarily dazed. Then suddenly she ran to the window, pressed both eyes to the glass, and looked down, waiting for a figure.

And quickly enough — a hooded sweatshirt, loose jeans, and the guitar case on his back all came into clear view below. Jiang Du stared, unblinking, tracking that moving shape — free, unguarded, with no one to look at and no eyes to worry about. Like wild vines that could grow without limits.

He passed the fountain, then turned the corner past the flower bed, walked beneath a tree to where he’d parked his bicycle, and pedaled straight down the steps — bumping a few times. Over at the intersection was a traffic light. One, two, three, four… Jiang Du counted silently. Wei Qingyue waited seventeen seconds for the red light to change. He crossed to the other side. Both sides of the road were lined with silk trees in full canopy — until the boy’s figure vanished into the rolling stream of traffic, swallowed completely, untraceable.

Jiang Du turned away from the window then, leaned her back against the glass, and stood with empty hands.

—