As the second cold wave descended from the far north, December here was about to experience a second drop in temperature, even colder than the previous days.
Although the temperature hadn’t fallen below zero degrees yet, it was close.
After New Year’s Day passed, there would be a few days of gentle warm sunshine, and then the third cold wave of the year would arrive—also the last cold air mass moving southward.
At that point, the temperature would drop below freezing.
Calculating the time, it would be around three to five days before the new year.
It would snow then.
Su Yao gazed at the grayish sky in the distance.
There weren’t many buildings near the university town, and there were hardly any tall structures.
Standing by the window in the seventh-floor hallway, she could see a jagged skyline.
Images of a small figure endlessly leaping through a parkour game floated in her mind.
A gust of wind swept through the window, sneaking in through the crack and brushing against Su Yao’s face.
She shook off her thoughts and looked toward the unusually bright patch behind the clouds—that was the sun, like a table lamp veiled in a thick white cloth, its light faint and devoid of warmth.
Shrugging against the chill, Su Yao closed the window’s narrow gap.
Her hands remained in her pockets.
When she leaned close to the glass, the temperature difference caused warmth to flow toward the window, creating a faint misty layer.
Su Yao glanced at it, then puckered her lips and breathed on the glass.
She lightly traced a finger over the foggy surface but wasn’t sure what to write.
After some thought, she wrote her own name, but then immediately wiped it away.
Finding another spot, she doodled randomly for a while.
On a whim, Su Yao wrote the character “慕” on the glass.
The character “慕” had many strokes and needed to be written compactly.
To make it legible, she had to write it fairly large.
Just as she was about to erase the character she had written unconsciously, her hand froze.
At that moment, a thought appeared in her mind.
“Maybe I should go see?”
This wasn’t a carefully considered decision.
It was spontaneous, impulsive, uncertain.
Su Yao herself didn’t know why this thought had come to her.
Mu Nanqiu had grabbed her hand once—the warmth of that touch was unforgettable.
Although Mu Nanqiu had said she hoped Su Yao would come, maybe it was just politeness?
Su Yao harbored such doubts.
After all, there were three major illusions in the world, one of which was “She likes me.”
Su Yao didn’t dare assume Mu Nanqiu liked her.
Perhaps she only found her pleasing to the eye…
Her conflicted eyes stared into empty space.
After a long while, she decided she would go and see.
But at this hour, maybe it was already over? Su Yao thought.
The Third Meeting Room wasn’t in the teaching building area but behind the library.
It was a place specifically reserved for large conferences and was rarely used.
The “Third” in Third Meeting Room was literal—there were two other meeting rooms before it, one large and one small, each serving different purposes.
The third was just a backup, seemingly unnecessary, and was hardly ever used.
Su Yao didn’t know the exact details but had come across some information about the school online.
She had also read legends about the building she was currently in—rumors of a murder case, not a suicide by jumping, but a girl wearing a red dress who was killed.
Whether it was true or not, Su Yao felt a chill creep around her as she thought about it.
She quickly glanced around and hastened her steps to get out of the teaching building.
The teaching building where the activity room was located wasn’t far from the library—just a few steps away—but it took Su Yao over ten minutes to get there.
This was mainly because of her twisted personality.
Although Mu Nanqiu wasn’t a monster, she was still categorized under “other people,” so feeling nervous was natural.
Passing through the library’s main hall on the first floor, she came out the back door into a quiet hallway.
There was no one inside the small building housing the meeting rooms.
It was 4:50 p.m.; most classes had ended by now, but students rarely approached this place, so the silence was normal.
Su Yao reassured herself silently and stepped into the wide corridor entrance.
She cautiously moved forward three or four meters when she saw several people emerge from a door in the distance.
Her body tensed instinctively, but fortunately, the group of men and women didn’t pay any attention to the lone Su Yao.
They chatted and laughed as they passed by without even a glance her way.
Once they left, Su Yao exhaled in relief, glanced ahead, then looked down at her outstretched hand.
Biting her lip, she resolved to go further in.
She’d come this far; there was no reason to turn back.
Besides, she was only here to take a quick look.
If Mu Nanqiu wasn’t there, she could go home right away.
At the innermost part of the corridor was an air vent where wind blew through intermittently.
The corridor was narrow, making the wind feel stronger.
Wearing a hat, Su Yao only felt the cold on her face as she walked forward, eyes scanning the nameplates on the doors.
Offices.
There were offices here too, but the Comprehensive Building was so large there were plenty of office spaces.
The door handles were covered in dust—no one seemed to use this place.
After passing four doors representing the two bigger meeting rooms combined, she reached a fifth door.
Approaching it, she heard beautiful piano music inside.
The sound wasn’t coming from speakers but from a live piano performance.
When the piece ended, applause came from inside.
Su Yao crept closer, peeking inside.
The meeting room was trapezoidal and compact.
On the stage at the front stood several tall girls in exquisite white dance dresses, chatting and laughing.
The rehearsal was over, and they were putting on their cold-weather clothes.
Taking advantage of no one noticing, Su Yao slipped inside and hid in a corner of the audience seats.
She looked around but saw no sign of Mu Nanqiu.
The light in her eyes dimmed.
Just then, the piano music started again.
Su Yao looked up toward the stage.
In the corner stood a piano.
Shifting slightly, she finally caught sight of the pianist.
It was Mu Nanqiu.
Su Yao didn’t understand much about piano, nor why there was a piano in a meeting room, but the melody was pleasant.
She listened intently to Mu Nanqiu’s playing.
When the piece finished, many people gathered around Mu Nanqiu.
Su Yao, crouching behind a chair, couldn’t hear what was being said, but she understood one thing: despite her cold and indifferent demeanor, Mu Nanqiu was never without admirers around her.