Ban Sheng’s throat shifted as he was about to reply — when a flat beeping tone came from the other end, the call cut dead. He stared at the darkened screen, brow knitting silently.

He fished a cigarette from his trouser pocket and put it to his lips, searching around for his lighter. Then all at once, a flicker of orange-red flame came toward him — held out by a hand wearing rose-red nail polish, gripping a silver lighter.

It was the undeterred Qiu Minghua — no, it was the undeterred woman who had followed him outside.

Ban Sheng, cigarette loose between his lips, lifted his eyelids to look at her. That gaze — like a blade’s edge, carrying an invisible weight of pressure. She gave a sheepish smile and pulled the flame back.

As she walked away, she thought of the look he had given her just now and knew she had no chance. She couldn’t help but mock herself for losing her head entirely this evening.

Ban Sheng was about to light his cigarette when the phone screen lit up again. He answered, voice low and deep: “Hello.”

Lin Weixia held the phone against her ear. Her tone was somewhat dry: “Just now my phone died and shut itself off automatically.”

“Mm.” Ban Sheng replied.

She had worked up the nerve to say those words, and of all things her phone chose that exact moment to lose power. Lin Weixia had scrambled to find the charging cable and get it back on.

Even now, her palm was still slick with sweat. Lin Weixia held the phone, her other hand unconsciously winding around the white charging cable, round and round. Her tone paused, and she began again:

“I didn’t phrase that well just now. We’re too young to be talking about that kind of thing. What I mean is — I want to ask you —”

“For the college entrance exams, should we both aim for the same city —”

“— go to Jingbei together to see the snow.”

When the words fell, the call filled with static, then a long silence. Ban Sheng said nothing. Lin Weixia seemed to catch the sound of his quiet breathing, coiling around her heart, making her pulse stutter unsteadily between slow and fast.

Her heart hung suspended just like that.

There was a small white mark on the desk. Lin Weixia reached out and picked at it with her finger. She opened her mouth once more, her cadence as slow and measured as always: “If you don’t want to —”

“I want to.” Ban Sheng’s voice broke in, unhurried.

Lin Weixia switched the phone to her other hand: “Alright then, you stay busy — I’m going to sleep.”

“Mm — close the window,” Ban Sheng said, something imperceptibly different in his tone now. He said, “Good night.”

After hanging up, Lin Weixia blow-dried her still-damp hair and was preparing for bed when her phone gave a ding. She tapped it open — it was a text from Li Yiran.

【Your future boyfriend is quite something. The moment you agreed to him, he bought the tab for everyone in the bar tonight.】

Lin Weixia’s lashes quivered. She stared at the message for a good while before going to sleep. The night was deep. Every now and then she could hear the roar of cars speeding across the elevated highway.

The rest of the time was relatively quiet, yet Lin Weixia tossed and turned and simply could not sleep. She couldn’t quite believe that she had actually said it — and the feeling was unsettled, as though she couldn’t get comfortable.

Lin Weixia reached under her pillow for her phone, lit up the screen, and found that Ban Sheng had sent her a message ten minutes earlier.

Ban: 【Asleep yet?】

Lin Weixia stretched two slender pale arms out from under the thin air-conditioned blanket and held the phone to type: 【Not yet.】

Immediately, another message appeared on the screen — she could almost picture Ban Sheng delivering it in that perfectly serious tone as he sought confirmation.

Ban: 【You’re sure?】

【Yes.】 — Xia

Ban Sheng had just stepped out of the shower. He was wearing nothing but a pair of black trousers, the firm, defined muscles of his abdomen still dotted with water droplets. He bent down, picked up his phone from the coffee table, saw that single affirmative reply, and the corner of his lips curved into a small, quiet arc.

That night, he didn’t rely on any sedative medication. His dreams were no longer a boundless darkness shot through with dark red. He didn’t wake in the middle of the night from palpitations.

A full night of restful sleep.

Because of the emotional turbulence the night before, Lin Weixia had gone to sleep late, and as a result she overslept the next morning. She rushed through her morning routine, slung her black backpack over her shoulder, and dashed out the door.

She hadn’t expected that on a Monday she would walk straight into Ban Sheng, who was waiting right outside her front door.

One hand at his trouser seam, one hand holding breakfast — his middle finger hooked through the handle of a white plastic bag holding the savory glutinous dumplings and fresh congee she always ate — his other hand occupied with his phone, his neck slightly bowed, his posture unhurried.

He was in Shengao’s school uniform, his figure upright and tall — every inch a young lord condescending to wait for someone.

“What are you doing here?” Lin Weixia was lightly breathless.

Ban Sheng pocketed his phone at the sound of her voice, walked over, and handed her the breakfast. His eyes were fixed straight on her:

“Came to confirm — in case you changed your mind.”

Lin Weixia felt mildly helpless, but she knew what Ban Sheng wanted. So she raised her eyes and looked at him directly, her dewy lips answering:

“I’m not changing my mind.”

Ban Sheng dipped his head and laughed softly, then asked Lin Weixia to hand over her keys. She took them out and watched as the boy reached into his trouser pocket and produced something — his knuckle-defined hand sliding out a small dinosaur keychain and dangling it in front of her eyes.

“Won it at the bar last night betting on the match. Yours is the keychain, mine is a dinosaur baseball cap.”

Ban Sheng held the keychain out to her. He had always been someone who liked to hold the initiative. Rather than take the key and attach the keychain himself, he insisted on watching Lin Weixia take his gift and clip it on herself.

From the very first day, Lin Weixia felt the weight of his possessiveness.

“Oh, maybe I shouldn’t — what if someone notices —” She caught Ban Sheng’s gaze, and her voice grew quieter and quieter.

But she still didn’t take it. He stepped forward two paces and bent his neck down, that roguishly insolent aura pressing in over Lin Weixia.

Meeting his gaze, she stepped back one step. Ban Sheng stepped forward one step.

Leaving her nowhere to retreat to.

“Lin Weixia — don’t make me kiss you.” Ban Sheng leaned toward her, forcing her to meet his eyes, utterly roguish.

Lin Weixia had no choice but to take the dinosaur keychain and clip it onto her keys.

The sky grew brighter and brighter. Gold-tinged sunlight spread across everything. Lin Weixia boarded the bus, got off at the Shengao Yizhong stop, and from behind her, a shadow followed — unhurried, keeping the same pace.

He had done this before.

But now, something was different.

Lin Weixia walked into the classroom with her heart beating a little fast, always afraid someone would notice. Shortly after, Ban Sheng followed her in. The moment he stepped through the door, Qiu Minghua went straight for him, hollering:

“Brother Ban — what does ‘Day One’ mean in your social media post?”

The hand Lin Weixia had on the back of her chair paused for a moment, then she continued pulling it out and sat down to eat the breakfast Ban Sheng had bought her. Ban Sheng passed right by her, the back of his hand — one knuckle arching up slightly — whether intentionally or not, grazing the pale side of her neck. Not hard, not soft — a single brush.

Like ice. Lin Weixia startled.

The hot congee she had just spooned into her mouth nearly made her choke.

Qiu Minghua was still yelling on and on. Ban Sheng, face unchanged, walked over, yanked the phone clean out of Qiu Minghua’s hand, locked his throat from behind, gave a light laugh, and applied pressure without any visible strain:

“None of your business.”

Two math classes back to back — most of the classroom had drifted into a haze. During the break, Lin Weixia received a message from Ban Sheng. She turned to look out the window.

Ban Sheng was in the corridor talking to someone, manner careless and unhurried — yet he kept glancing at the phone gripped tightly in his hand, obviously waiting for her reply.

Ban: 【Lunch together? I’ll take you somewhere special.】

Lin Weixia stared at the screen and grew conflicted. She typed into the message box: 【I can’t — Sijia made lunch plans with me.】

The night before, Liu Sijia had sent a message saying she wanted to have lunch together on Monday, and that her housekeeper would prepare two portions of a bento.

After the message declining went out, it was like a stone dropped into still water — Ban Sheng never replied again.

She guessed he was probably upset and ignoring her.

Now that the two of them had an understanding between them, it was only day one. Of course it was natural that he wanted to be closer to her and have more time with her — yet Lin Weixia had already made plans with Liu Sijia in advance, without considering him.

Thinking of this, Lin Weixia sent one more message: 【Next time, definitely.】

But Ban Sheng still did not reply.

After the third class — Chinese — Old Liu sent Lin Weixia to the office to collect the exercise workbooks. Lin Weixia carried a towering stack of workbooks back and piled them on the podium, then distributed them to each group.

When she reached the fourth group, Lin Weixia’s gaze paused. She picked Ban Sheng’s workbook out from the pile, intending to give it to him personally.

Lin Weixia hoped to use the act of returning the workbook as an opportunity to speak to him. She placed the workbook in front of Ban Sheng and said: “Your workbook.”

Ban Sheng was busy examining his drone remote control — something seemed to have malfunctioned with it. When he lowered his head, the blue vein on the side of his neck tightened and rose visibly, carrying an inexplicably compelling tension.

Lin Weixia spoke to him, but Ban Sheng didn’t so much as lift an eyelid. He continued working at his remote control, treating her as if she didn’t exist.

The workbook hung in the air between them, going nowhere. Lin Weixia quietly sighed.

When the morning dismissal bell rang, the students scattered like fish leaping from a box and streamed out, already in animated discussions about lunch. Lin Weixia and Liu Sijia walked arm in arm to the cafeteria as usual — yet she could sense something was off in Liu Sijia’s mood.

She wasn’t radiating that usual bright, vivid smile. She spoke very little, and when Lin Weixia tried to talk to her, Liu Sijia was distracted and vague in her replies.

Then Liu Sijia’s phone rang out with an urgent ring tone. She didn’t even glance at it — she just pressed it to silence, her eyes as cold as shattered ice.

Lin Weixia caught a glimpse of the screen. It looked like a call from her mother.

Liu Sijia’s lunch was, as always, a meager diet meal, with a glass of green cleansing juice on the side. Because of that phone call, her mood was evidently worse. She poked at a few pieces of vegetables with her chopsticks, looking completely uninterested.

Liu Sijia had apparently heard some kind of rumor. She fixed her upward-slanting eyes on Lin Weixia: “Weixia — is there anything you’ve done to wrong me?”

Lin Weixia chewed slowly on her snow peas and asked: “What would count as wronging you?”

Liu Sijia paused, caught off guard by the counter-question, and was just about to say something when she spotted the small dinosaur keychain on the keys on the table. A bad feeling stirred in her immediately. Her expression became suspicious:

“Where did that keychain come from?”

Lin Weixia looked at Liu Sijia — at the collarbone protruding at her neckline, the clothes hanging loose off her, making her look all the more slight beneath them — then her gaze shifted to the barely-touched food in front of her.

She was eating even less than before.

“Finish more than half of this, and I’ll tell you.” Lin Weixia passed her the chopsticks.

The two of them held each other’s gaze for a while. Liu Sijia relented, picked up the chopsticks, and began eating with her head down. Seeing this, Lin Weixia stood up and went to the cafeteria counter to get a bowl of corn-braised pork rib soup for her.

A moment later, Lin Weixia came back carrying her tray and set the soup in front of Liu Sijia. She glanced at the bento box — more than half the food inside had been cleared.

Liu Sijia chewed on her broccoli and gave Lin Weixia a shrug, tone tinged with self-satisfied pride: “I ate it. Tell me now.”

Lin Weixia stood before her with both hands in her pockets, and for a long moment said nothing. Then she leaned in slightly and reached out one hand, firmly parting Liu Sijia’s lips.

Liu Sijia yelped in pain and opened her mouth reflexively. Lin Weixia held the slight lean forward, her amber eyes calm and keen, her tone unwavering:

“You fake-ate.”

Though Liu Sijia’s pretend-chewing had been quite convincing, it had not fooled her eyes. Long lashes swept toward the rubbish bin in the corner — food still fresh in color, discarded there.

A flash of embarrassed fury crossed those beautiful eyes. Liu Sijia knocked Lin Weixia’s hand away, her composure shattering, her voice rising sharp and shrill: “What right do you have to interfere in my life?!”

With a loud bang, Liu Sijia slammed her spoon down onto the table. The crash rang out. The surroundings fell quiet for a moment. Students eating nearby all looked over with expressions that said they were ready to watch the drama unfold.

Liu Sijia stood immediately and left the cafeteria without looking back. She walked fast, and in her haste collided into Ning Chao, who was ambling along slowly holding a young coconut.

With a thud, the young coconut was knocked to the ground and its juice splashed everywhere. Ning Chao’s shoulder took a sharp hit and throbbed with pain. Anger flaring, he blocked the girl in front of him: “What the —”

When he saw the expression on Liu Sijia’s face, he went still. The second half of what he’d been about to say — “is wrong with you” — he swallowed back down. Liu Sijia, face set like stone, knocked his hand away and ran.

Lin Weixia stood there, eyes lifted, watching her retreating figure — her thoughts adrift.

After the lunch crowd cleared and people filed out with their trays, Lin Weixia washed her hands and passed by the convenience store. She walked straight past without looking — then stopped after two steps, and turned back.

The first afternoon class was art calligraphy. The teacher lectured at the front of the room while the students idled below. Lin Weixia held her pen and sketched on paper, glancing over in Ban Sheng’s direction a few times in between.

He still wasn’t looking at her.

After class, Lin Weixia went up to the podium to write out a notice — relaying Old Liu’s announcement. A Chinese language study supplement was available for order. Anyone who didn’t wish to subscribe could come to her, and she would handle registering their names.

The second class was PE. The boys had long since grabbed a basketball and swarmed out of the room. The girls fixed their hair and checked their reflections until they were satisfied, then shuffled slowly toward the changing room.

When Fang Mo called Lin Weixia to go with her, the latter shook her head and smiled gently: “You go first — I’ll be there in a moment.”

“Alright, I’m heading off then!” Fang Mo waved at her.

Ban Sheng was still sitting in his chair, hunched over and tinkering with his drone. Lin Weixia stayed in her seat the whole time, until every last person in the classroom had gone.

Neither of them spoke first.

Lin Weixia stood up and walked toward him. Her shadow fell across him. She looked at him and said: “Ban Sheng.”

Her tone was very soft. A faint, sweet fruit fragrance drifted over. The hand Ban Sheng was holding the craft knife with paused — yet he still didn’t raise his head.

Seeing that he still wasn’t acknowledging her, Lin Weixia withdrew her gaze, stepped straight past his desk, and made to leave. Then a hand shot out and caught hold of her arm. His dark eyes were still downcast.

“Your workbook.” She had handed it to him.

Once she was gone, Ban Sheng tossed the craft knife onto the desk, reached up and rubbed the back of his neck, then casually picked up the workbook from the table. A shower of salted plum candies cascaded out from between the pages.

Ban Sheng was stunned. He picked up one of the candies and stared at it. The curve of his lips lifted — then kept spreading wider and wider. Those normally cool, sharp eyes and brows were like spring wind caught in a snare, flooding with joy.

Hmph. An act of coaxing, was it?

During PE class, following the teacher’s instructions, Lin Weixia and a few classmates went to the equipment room to fetch the tennis rackets. She carried a box of green tennis balls toward the sports field, when the boys’ voices floated to her ears on the breeze.

Qiu Minghua stared at his watch, expression genuinely shaken: “Brother Ban, just keep that cool face of yours — I’m not used to you smiling at me like this. It gives me a serial-killer’s-last-smile kind of feeling.”

Lin Weixia’s pocket buzzed with the sound of an incoming message. She gave the box a jolt upward to free one hand and pulled out her phone. When she saw Ban Sheng’s text, her breath caught — and she felt as though the wind around her had wrapped itself tight, hot enough to make her cheeks burn.

Lin Weixia had asked him: 【What did you mean by ‘Day One’ in your social media post this morning?】

Ban: 【Day one of the final sprint before the college entrance exam.】