Li Kuiyi thought that even if He Youyuan truly liked her, he would never admit it.

She still remembered clearly what he had said at Qi Yu’s birthday party. He said he would never actively pursue a girl, even if he liked her. He would only draw that girl in, slowly making her fall for him, and then have her come after him instead.

That statement perfectly captured He Youyuan’s arrogance as a handsome guy. Having grown up as the center of everyone’s attention, he had clearly been spoiled rotten — there was no way he would ever admit to being the one who had fallen for a girl first. That would be far too damaging to a handsome guy’s dignity.

So when Li Kuiyi asked that question, she wasn’t looking for an answer from his lips. She simply wanted to tell him: the way you keep provoking me like this makes me think you might like me.

He Youyuan would never be able to tolerate that suspicion hanging over him. From that point on, he would keep his distance from her.

Li Kuiyi also knew that once she asked the question out loud, she and He Youyuan wouldn’t even be able to remain friends. So be it — she had no regrets about that. Compared to being friends with He Youyuan, she would much rather spend her three years of high school in quiet and peace. Besides, she worried that if she let He Youyuan keep lingering in front of her, she might actually fall for him. He was, after all, very good-looking, and if she were to be bewitched by his face, things would go terribly wrong — Li Kuiyi absolutely refused to let that happen. She was someone who intended to be the top scorer in the city and win a scholarship. No one was allowed to become a stumbling block in her way.

As expected, things unfolded exactly as she had anticipated.

After hearing her words, He Youyuan froze for two seconds, then pulled up one corner of his mouth in an extremely brief, dismissive laugh, and shifted his gaze away from her. His fingers slid into his hair and combed it back. After a moment, he turned to look at her again, his expression like someone who had just heard the most ridiculous joke imaginable. He stammered: “No, you— I— who, who would ever like you?”

Then he looked away. In the vast darkness of the night, Li Kuiyi couldn’t make out his expression clearly, but she could sense, from the erratic rhythm of his breathing in front of her, the disordered beat of his heart.

He Youyuan, you don’t actually like me, do you?

Li Kuiyi lowered her eyes slowly, let out a leisurely “oh,” and said, “It’s mainly that you keep doing things that give people the wrong idea.”

“What kind of things?” He Youyuan’s throat shifted, and his voice unconsciously tightened.

Li Kuiyi didn’t answer him. She paused, then suddenly looked up with a faint smile, meeting his gaze with calm serenity: “It’s nothing. If it was just a misunderstanding, then don’t worry about it. Alright, I need to head home now. Goodbye.”

Figure it out yourself, He Youyuan.

Li Kuiyi left with her schoolbag on her back. He Youyuan remained where he was, and only now did he dare to let his gaze linger on her without restraint. The weather had warmed up, and she had tied her hair up again, exposing a pair of fair ears and a slender neck. Her hair had likely grown a little longer — when tied up in a ponytail now, it was no longer just a short stub. But she still wore that off-white schoolbag, with the small fuzzy spider dangling from the zipper.

Do I like her? he thought blankly.

He Youyuan admitted that he wasn’t completely indifferent toward Li Kuiyi. Every time he saw her, he felt quite happy — but he couldn’t explain why. It was just a vague, inexplicable happiness, and then he couldn’t stop himself from going to annoy her, watching her get all flustered and feisty, which made him even happier.

Could that count as liking her? He had always assumed he simply enjoyed being a nuisance.

Of course, he wasn’t always causing trouble for Li Kuiyi. Sometimes he treated her quite well — for instance, he had given up his favorite seat to her. But that was just the kind of mutual helpfulness you’d see between classmates. Even if it hadn’t been Li Kuiyi, he would have done the same for any other girl… wouldn’t he?

But he wasn’t close to any other girls. Why would he give up his seat for them? Right?

And then there was the time he had slipped her a bottle of warm milk — but that was because she had come to watch him play basketball, so he had given it to her. He couldn’t very well have let her come all that way for nothing, could he? That would have been terribly impolite. As for why he had invited her to watch him play in the first place, that was probably because…

Because why, exactly?

He Youyuan scratched his head, completely unable to recall what had motivated him to invite Li Kuiyi to watch him play basketball. It seemed like a moment of impulse — his brain had gone warm and he had just gone over to ask her. Maybe… maybe he had only wanted her to see how well the basketball glasses she’d given him performed… yes, that was it.

See? He clearly did not like Li Kuiyi.

He Youyuan let out a quiet laugh and felt his mind settle. He had always known it — how could he possibly be the one to fall for someone else first? It had always been others who liked him. And really, that Li Kuiyi was something — so calm and composed on the surface, but so full of herself underneath. Clearly he needed to keep his distance from her.

The new week began, and the first thing He Youyuan did was copy down the class schedule posted by the blackboard, resolving from that day forward to be self-sufficient and never ask Li Kuiyi what the next class was again. He carefully pasted the schedule to the upper right corner of his desk and felt as though he had been reborn. But old habits aren’t so easily broken with a simple decision. Sometimes, the moment the class bell rang, he would instinctively reach out and poke Li Kuiyi in the back. It was only after poking her that he would catch himself, and then he’d have to sheepishly make excuses for himself: “My hand was right there — why did you have to lean into it?”

It was only now that he finally understood why a broken heart caused such suffering. The thing called “habit” was truly torturous.

He could only restrain himself from watching her retreating figure, restrain himself from drawing near to her, restrain himself from teasing her, restrain himself from letting the joy that surged up inside him every time he saw her show on his face. But somehow, the more he restrained himself, the more certain things slipped out of his control. He began replaying their past over and over again in his mind — probably because their relationship had stalled, so he could only look backward through memory. He thought about the time he had given her a bouquet and chocolates, about when Chen Guoming had mistakenly assumed they were dating, about when she had treated him to barbecue, about when she said she wanted to pay him back thirty-seven yuan and fifty cents…

Hey, you sour-faced pineapple. You still haven’t told me — why thirty-seven yuan and fifty cents?

He even thought about the absurd answer Baidu had given him — “wanting to kiss” — and the image in his mind turned hazy and warm. He burned with shame and indignation, thinking himself disgraceful. All manner of unspeakable suppression and restlessness intertwined, composing the entirety of a silent and chaotic May.

The sunlight grew more dazzling with each passing day, and at some point, the sound of cicadas drifted in through the window. The water fir tree had grown just as lush as he’d expected, its leaves dense and green, its shadow sometimes falling through the window and casting itself onto one corner of the blackboard. When a breeze passed through, the leaves and test papers rustled together in a single, sweeping wave of sound.

Another college entrance examination season had arrived.

For first-year students, the college entrance exam still felt somewhat distant — even though the teachers repeatedly emphasized it was not far off, that sense of urgency was difficult to detect in the first-years. For them, the exam simply meant a holiday was coming.

June really was a beloved month. The third-year students’ college entrance examination, the third-year middle schoolers’ high school entrance examination, and the second-year students’ academic level examinations came one after another, with so many days off it made one giddy. June third was the day the third-year students left school, and that evening during self-study period, everyone heard voices calling out from the front teaching building — it was the second-year students sending off the graduating class.

No. 1 High School was an examination venue, so students needed to clear out their desks and chairs entirely before departing for the holiday. After a full year of accumulation, the textbooks, test papers, notebooks, and reference books were countless. They couldn’t possibly fit in the small cabinet outside the classroom, so everyone had no choice but to carry them home with great effort, and then carry them all back again with equal effort when the holiday ended.

Today was the duty day for the group He Youyuan belonged to. As the only boy in his group, he was responsible for taking out the trash and washing the garbage bins. By the time he came back dragging the clean bins, all the other students had left. Only Li Kuiyi remained outside in the hallway by the storage cabinets, stuffing books into her locker.

Her locker was already full, yet she still had a large pile of books that wouldn’t fit. This was probably the burden of being an outstanding student — he was different in this regard. He did his test papers and tossed them away right after, so after a semester, he barely had any papers to show for it.

He Youyuan went into the classroom, tidied up his own textbooks and workbooks, carried them out, and stuffed them into his locker. He twisted the lock shut. His hand paused as he was pulling out the key, and he cast an indifferent glance in Li Kuiyi’s direction.

She had apparently given up struggling. She locked her crammed-full locker, gathered the remaining towering stack of books in her arms, and made her way unsteadily toward the stairwell. It was nearly a twenty-minute walk from school to her home — her arms would probably be exhausted by the time she got there.

He Youyuan tucked the key into his school trousers pocket, his fingers rubbing over it, feeling the jagged ridges of the key’s teeth. Suddenly, he turned around and called out to the girl ahead of him in a low voice: “Hey.”

He adjusted his stance slightly, doing his best to appear casual: “Your books… do you want to put them in my locker?”

He mumbled the last few words quite unclearly — he wasn’t sure she had heard him.

She said, “Isn’t yours already full?”

He Youyuan turned to look at the darkening sky at the edge of the horizon, his tone offhand: “I’ll take my books out. My home is close by.”

When no response came for a while, he had no choice but to look at her. She pursed her lips in thought, then said: “Thank you. But it’s alright — don’t trouble yourself. I can carry them home.”

She had declined.

He Youyuan felt strangely embarrassed, though he couldn’t say why. He let out an “oh,” turned back into the classroom, and packed up his schoolbag.

He sat at his desk for a while.

He felt regret over what he had just done. He should never have offered to help her. She would certainly think he liked her again — that was probably why she had refused. But he didn’t like her at all. He was simply too warm-hearted.

Figuring she had already walked some distance by now, He Youyuan finally swung his schoolbag over his right shoulder and left the classroom. But as he came down to the first floor, he found she hadn’t left at all — she was standing at the bottom of the front steps, talking to Qi Yu. And the tall pile of books she had been holding was gone.

No wonder she hadn’t wanted his help.

He Youyuan tugged at the corner of his mouth in wry self-mockery, and almost automatically assumed that Qi Yu had been waiting for her — otherwise, why hadn’t he left by now, this late in the evening?

He leaned against the wall at the base of the stairway, watching, until the two of them walked side by side toward the school gate. Only then did he follow behind at a leisurely pace, roughly ten steps back.

He wasn’t trying to follow them. He was going home too, wasn’t he?

The sky grew dark. The empty campus fell into deep quiet all around him, and he caught their faint voices drifting through the stillness.

“…You didn’t seem to be at the sports meet either. And Zhou Fanghua wasn’t there.”

Qi Yu smiled: “I’m not very interested in sports, and I wasn’t competing, so after the opening ceremony, a few of us classmates sneaked back to the classroom.”

Li Kuiyi asked: “You went back to study?”

“That’s right.”

“Chen Guoming didn’t catch you?”

“No. Though even if he had, I don’t think anything would have come of it — after all, we were skipping the sports meet to study.”

“Fair enough.” Li Kuiyi also laughed.

Laughing, laughing, what’s so funny? He Youyuan grumbled inwardly. Their bar for amusement is awfully low.

“Your class uniforms are really nice. Our class only gets to wear the school uniform — our homeroom teacher won’t allow anything fancy.”

Qi Yu nodded: “Teacher Liu is quite respectful of our preferences.”

Li Kuiyi let out a quiet sigh.

Qi Yu seemed to know why she had sighed. He stopped walking, looked at her, and said quietly: “It would have been nice if you hadn’t chosen the humanities track — then you’d still be able to take classes with your favorite teacher.”

What kind of thing is that to say? He Youyuan rolled his eyes inwardly. What do you mean, “it would have been nice if you hadn’t chosen humanities”? She loves humanities — she was born a humanities student and she’ll die one.

Qi Yu, you want her to study science? You definitely have ulterior motives!

Li Kuiyi, for her part, didn’t contradict him. She simply said: “You’re right — it’s hard to have the best of both worlds.”

After that, the two of them fell silent. Seeing them stop talking, He Youyuan felt a small flicker of satisfaction. He had always known it — they had nothing much to talk about.

When they reached the school gate, the time had come to say goodbye.

He Youyuan expected them to wave and part ways, but to his surprise, Qi Yu stepped forward, stood in front of Li Kuiyi, leaned down, and said something to her quietly. Li Kuiyi seemed to freeze for a moment, and after looking at him for a beat, she gave a soft nod.

Seeing her agree, Qi Yu appeared quite pleased. He stepped back, waving goodbye to Li Kuiyi as he went.

So they made some kind of agreement. He Youyuan felt an involuntary tug of anxiety. He really wanted to know what it was — but then he felt contempt for himself for wanting to know. He told himself he was simply too nosy.

Forget it — whatever they wanted to do was none of his business.

The two-day holiday for the college entrance exams came and went, but No. 1 High School had always been stingy — whenever they could cut a holiday short, they never hesitated. On the afternoon of June eighth, the exam ended, and by six-thirty that same evening, the non-graduating students were required to return to school for evening self-study.

That afternoon, Zhang Chuang came over to hang out with He Youyuan — though calling it “hanging out” was generous. He had really come for the PS4. The console wasn’t yet available domestically at the time; He Youyuan’s had been purchased abroad by his mother’s boyfriend, who had given it to him as a birthday gift.

Zhang Chuang weighed the black controller in his hand and gave him a sidelong look. “Your mom’s boyfriend treats you pretty well.”

“Mm.” He Youyuan was leaning against the headboard, lazily flipping through a manga, and didn’t even lift his eyes.

“So if he becomes your stepdad, you’d be living the dream, huh?”

He Youyuan glanced at him over the manga: “If you’re jealous, go convince your mom to get a divorce.”

“Get lost.” Zhang Chuang kicked him.

He Youyuan toppled sideways onto the bed in an exaggerated fashion, tossed the manga aside, buried his face in the pillow, and seemed to fall asleep.

“Seriously though — you really don’t mind?” Zhang Chuang asked, probing.

“Doesn’t matter to me.” He Youyuan’s voice came out muffled by the pillow, buzzing slightly.

He genuinely didn’t mind much. As long as his mother’s boyfriend wasn’t a bastard like his father, he was fine with it and would offer his blessing. Besides, whether it was his biological father or a stepfather, neither had much to do with him. The people who truly counted as family to him were his mother, his aunt, and his maternal grandparents.

Seeing that He Youyuan had nothing more to say about it, Zhang Chuang dropped the subject and threw himself into the game.

He and He Youyuan had known each other for a long time — back when they were both three or four years old. At the time, He Youyuan’s maternal grandmother’s home and Zhang Chuang’s family had been neighbors across the hall. After He Youyuan’s parents divorced, he had come to live with his grandmother. The first time Zhang Chuang saw He Youyuan, he thought — because He Youyuan was pretty-faced and didn’t have the short-cropped hair most boys had — that he was a girl. He had chased after him for a long time, calling him “prince” this and “prince” that every day, though he had puzzled over it: was there really such a thing as a girl prince in this world?

It was only when they started kindergarten together and the teacher organized everyone for a bathroom break during recess that the truth came to light…

Zhang Chuang’s young heart had been profoundly wounded that day, and it took him an entire day of crying to accept the reality.

Later, Zhang Chuang’s mother had told him to be careful around He Youyuan — not to casually bring up anything about fathers. At first, Zhang Chuang did avoid the topic, but after knowing him for a long time, he found that He Youyuan simply didn’t care when other people mentioned his dad. So he started being more brazen about it, treating him the same as any other boy — joking around and telling He Youyuan to call him “dad.”

He’s just big-hearted, Zhang Chuang figured.

After two hours of gaming, Zhang Chuang’s neck was aching. He rolled it around in all directions, then noticed He Youyuan still hadn’t moved from where he’d been lying on the bed, and couldn’t help kicking him again. “What’s wrong with you? Playing the brooding act?”

He Youyuan opened bleary eyes and said impatiently: “Tired.”

“Were you up all night doing something shameless?”

He Youyuan couldn’t be bothered to respond.

Zhang Chuang took the silence as confirmation and clicked his tongue several times: “Youth, youth — you really need to take care of your body.” He sat back down in the chair and started scrolling through his phone, rubbing his neck with his other hand.

He Youyuan had genuinely been sleeping poorly the past two days, and was drifting toward sleep again, when Zhang Chuang suddenly let out a shout: “OH MY GOD!”

Insufferably loud.

He Youyuan reached out blindly, grabbed a pillow, and flung it in Zhang Chuang’s direction.

“Hey hey hey — don’t sleep! Something huge just happened!” Zhang Chuang immediately came over to the bed, shook He Youyuan vigorously, and shoved his phone right in his face. “Look, look!”

He Youyuan opened one eye with great reluctance and squinted at the screen.

It was a social media post — nine photos, and only two characters as the caption: “Happy.”

“What is this?” He frowned.

Zhang Chuang was beside himself: “Are you blind? It’s Qi Yu’s post!”

Qi Yu’s post?

These students rarely used WeChat — they mostly used QQ. For that very reason, their WeChat accounts were more private, shared only with a few close friends.

He Youyuan propped himself up on one elbow, took Zhang Chuang’s phone, and opened the photos.

A lion, a monkey, a python, an elephant…

He went to the zoo?

He swiped to the last photo.

A girl in a white sundress — a black mechanical watch on her wrist, hair tied in a small, neat ponytail, a twig in her hand — standing on tiptoe, feeding a giraffe.

A white sundress. A black mechanical watch.

Neither had any decoration. Just two very simple details. And yet somehow they captured that girl’s essence with perfect precision.

That clean, resilient youthfulness.

He Youyuan held his breath. His fingers trembled slightly as he enlarged the photo.