Without lifting her head, Tao Zhi raised an eyebrow slightly, showing an utterly unrestrained, smug expression. “Not bad.”

Jiang Qihuai gave a small laugh, then lowered his head again and continued reading.

When he looked down, Tao Zhi’s eyes lifted slightly, stealing a glance at him.

Her hand, hidden under the desk, lightly scratched at her thigh.

When a person becomes completely absorbed in something, time seems to pass quickly.

By the end of October, the dry northern wind was still blowing. Another biweekly exam was coming.

Ji Fan had now developed an indestructible body and soul—after enduring the long torment of English listening tests, he didn’t know whether Tao Zhi could score 140 next time, but for some inexplicable reason, he was filled with confidence that he could score 140 himself.

The next day was Saturday.

Ji Fan had stayed up all night gaming and slept in late. When he finally got up, it was almost one o’clock. Downstairs was quiet—there was no sound of a girl reading English aloud.

He had gotten used to hearing it every day, and now the silence felt strangely empty. Yawning, hair sticking up like a bird’s nest, he trudged downstairs. Aunt Zhang, seeing him, went to reheat his lunch.

Ji Fan glanced around. Tao Zhi wasn’t at the dining table. Turning his head, he saw her sprawled across the living room sofa, the entire coffee table in front of her buried under test papers.

Startled, Ji Fan rubbed his head and walked over, glancing casually at her papers.

They were mostly compositions—densely marked with red ink. Almost all of the grammar notes and essay corrections lately were from Jiang Qihuai.

Tao Zhi was lying there with one of the papers covering her face, motionless and quiet.

Ji Fan bent down, tugging lightly at the corner of the paper, peering at her curiously. “What are you doing here?”

Tao Zhi opened her eyes, her gaze deep and listless. “In spring thoughts.” [thinking amorous thoughts]

“…?”

Ji Fan said, “Sis, it’s autumn already.”

Tao Zhi sighed, pulled the paper back over her face, and muttered, “Leave me alone.”

“No, wait,” Ji Fan sat down beside her, “are you in love?”

“No.” Tao Zhi’s voice was muffled.

“Then you like someone?”

“……”

After waiting a while, Tao Zhi still didn’t answer.

Ji Fan caught on, nodding. “Unrequited love?”

Two seconds of silence.

Tao Zhi suddenly lifted her hand, yanked the paper off her face, and sat up against the soft couch cushion with a thump, glaring at him furiously.

Ji Fan laughed. “Why are you glaring at me? It’s not gonna help.”

Tao Zhi kept glaring, saying nothing.

Ji Fan leaned closer. “So you really do like someone?”

Tao Zhi let out a long breath, running a hand through her hair in frustration, her expression a little lost. “I don’t know.”

She didn’t know whether she truly didn’t know—or was just pretending not to.

That time on the roller coaster—when she got off it—only one thought had crossed her mind.

It’s over.

Maybe it started at that very moment, or maybe even earlier.

Either way, by the time she realized it, her feelings toward that person were no longer simple, no longer the easy relationship between two classmates sitting front and back.

Seeing him made her happy.

Not seeing him made her wonder what he was doing.

Even when others mentioned him in passing, she wanted to lean over and listen.

During these days when he helped her correct her papers, there were times she looked at him and, out of nowhere, a thought would slip through her mind—He’s really good-looking.

Thoughts like that.

Tao Zhi lowered her gaze, looking at the papers spread across the coffee table. Every single one bore the handwriting of the same two people—one in black, one in red.

That person clearly wasn’t in this house—yet at this moment, his presence seemed to fill the air before her, vast and overwhelming, shamelessly brushing against her awareness.

Irritated, Tao Zhi sank back into the sofa, grabbed a paper from beside her, and covered her face again.

The red ink on the page pressed softly against her lips.

In an instant, Tao Zhi jolted as if shocked by electricity. She yanked the paper off, scrambled up from the sofa, and bolted into the bathroom—barefoot, not even bothering to put on her slippers.

The sound of rushing water came from inside, mixed with the frustrated wail of a girl.

Ji Fan sat on the sofa, utterly bewildered, listening to her thrash around inside like a lunatic.

When Tao Zhi came out after washing her face, she had calmed down. Ji Fan was sitting at the dining table, eating lunch while watching a livestream.

She went upstairs, pinched the flesh of her cheek with cold fingertips, took a deep breath, and sat down at her desk to pull out a new set of test papers.

After finishing the entire set, she took out her English book and began memorizing vocabulary.

She memorized quickly—pen in hand, writing each word several times on scratch paper before crossing it off. By the time she had gone through a few pages, the sun was already sinking beyond the horizon.

Tao Zhi put down the book, leaned back in her chair, closed her eyes, and rubbed her sore neck.

Then she got up and went downstairs.

In the kitchen, Aunt Zhang was making dinner, humming as she moved between the fridge and the counter. Seeing Tao Zhi come down, she called out, “Zhizhi, you’re up? Dinner’ll be ready soon.”

Tao Zhi answered lightly, but her gaze drifted—uncontrollably—to the pile of papers on the coffee table.

She stood there for two seconds. Then, almost without thinking, she walked to the entryway, grabbed a jacket, and called toward the kitchen, “Aunt Zhang, I’m not eating at home tonight!”

Aunt Zhang poked her head out. “Oh? Meeting classmates?”

“Mm.”

Tao Zhi slipped on her shoes, stepped out the door, walked through the residential complex, and raised her hand to hail a cab on the main street.

She got off at the same street where she and Song Jiang had gone for late-night snacks before—right in front of the convenience store where Jiang Qihuai worked part-time.

The evening sky glowed a dim red, and the streetlights flickered on one by one. Tao Zhi walked along the roadside, her faint shadow following her steps.

Up ahead, the convenience store’s lights shone bright.

Suddenly, her awareness snapped back—realization crashing down on her.

What exactly was she doing?

She hadn’t even thought it through. The moment she saw the papers on the coffee table and thought of him, she had rushed out the door without a second thought.

She just wanted to see him in person.

As if by seeing him, something inside her would finally become certain.

A pang of regret hit her—she should’ve brought that freshly finished set of papers.

Otherwise, what excuse did she even have now?

Standing by the roadside, Tao Zhi stopped in her tracks, annoyed.

Maybe she should just be straightforward and ask him outright.

Your Highness, are you still accepting concubines?

You see, your harem looks rather empty now. I’m a princess, you’re a prince—how about we just make do with each other?

…How stupid.

She stood by the roadside with her head down and sighed. After a pause, she went on walking.

All the way until she reached the convenience store.

Tao Zhi walked softly to the wall beneath the window, then, like a thief, poked her head out and stole a quick glance inside—only to pull it back immediately.

The store looked the same as before. A young woman was standing behind the register, but Jiang Qihuai wasn’t there.

She’d only run into him here once before and only knew that he worked part-time in this store.

Leaning a little farther out, Tao Zhi pressed against the glass, peering in again, searching every corner, almost sticking her head through the window.

Behind her, cars passed in a steady stream as night slowly deepened. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw in the reflection of the convenience store window that a car had stopped behind her. The door opened, and someone stepped out.

She didn’t pay attention, her forehead still against the glass as she scrutinized the store’s staff one by one, trying to see if there was a blind spot she’d missed.

Just as she was thinking whether she should go to the café downtown where Jiang Qihuai also worked, a thunk sounded behind her—the car door closing.

She swept another glance across the glass surface. Two figures stood by the roadside—one taller, with straight, broad shoulders and a familiar frame.

Tao Zhi froze.

Her gaze pulled completely away from the store and fixed on that silhouette drawing closer.

As the distance shortened, his features came into focus on the glass window’s reflection—

short black hair, a straight nose bridge, and the sharply defined jawline she knew so well.

And that coat—the same long coat he’d worn the last time they’d gone to the amusement park.

The man approached and then stopped walking.

Tao Zhi’s entire body stiffened. She was still frozen in the same posture, standing ramrod straight. The blood in her body surged from her feet to the top of her head, bringing with it the panic and guilt of being caught red-handed. Her ears burned hot.

Jiang Qihuai stood behind her, his cool voice sounding beside her ear, calm and unhurried:

“What are you looking for?”