Under the shaded trees, Wang Jing watched Su Yao from about three meters away.
The young figure sat with her back to her, eating her boxed lunch in tiny, careful bites.
Just as Wang Jing reached a hand forward—ever so slightly—that delicate back visibly tensed and leaned forward.
It was a reaction so subtle it seemed instinctual.
And sure enough, the moment she retracted her hand, the tension disappeared.
Weird.
Su Yao, for her part, was focused on her food… and how to end this awkward one-on-one time with the overly enthusiastic senior.
Though she understood that Wang Jing meant well, the attention was… too much. Overwhelming, even.
What if Wang Jing found out about her body?
She glanced sidelong at the girl beside her—single ponytail swaying, dressed in black-and-white sportswear.
Even in such a stark color scheme, Wang Jing radiated energy and youth.
Her name might be “Jing” (Quiet), but her personality was anything but.
Outgoing, cheerful, and endlessly lively—she was beloved by the whole class.
Even Su Yao admired her.
After all, the senpai was… really pretty.
“Finished eating?”
“Ah… y-yeah. Um… Senpai, I-I really have something to do…”
Face tilted downward, Su Yao turned away from Wang Jing’s gaze, speaking in a hushed voice.
Filtered through the sun-dappled leaves, broken shards of golden light landed across her shoulders.
Wang Jing blinked, stunned for a moment.
For a split second, she could’ve sworn she saw a girl’s silhouette overlaid on Su Yao. She couldn’t quite place why.
“Oh…” she murmured in response.
Relieved, Su Yao sighed deeply.
While Wang Jing was distracted in her daze, she quietly slipped away, leaving the older girl sitting alone by the flower bed.
For a long moment, Wang Jing spaced out—then suddenly sprang to her feet.
“I get it!”
If someone was isolated, it had to be for a reason.
She looked at Su Yao’s slim build—like a willow branch swaying in the wind. Soft, delicate, and pretty in a way that blurred the line. Su Yao must’ve been bullied for looking too much like a girl. Ostracized. Hurt.
This had to be learned helplessness.
Like those psychology experiments where dogs were shocked repeatedly until they stopped trying to escape—even after the cage door was opened.
“He’s probably shut himself off from the world,” she muttered with a grin. “I’m so smart…”
Only to realize—Su Yao was already gone.
“Again?! Why does everyone keep running away from me…”
But that’s fine. You can run, little Su Yao, but you can’t hide.
Wang Jing still had her full information from the class roster—ID number, address, phone number, everything. All she had to do was scroll through the group chat history.
“Escaping is useless~”
***
At that same time…
Mu Beizhi rolled out of bed and checked the clock.
“One p.m.? Cool. That’s seven hours of sleep.”
She yawned, barefoot, stumbling to the living room still half-asleep.
Grabbing an apple, she rubbed it on her sleeve and took a bite.
“Not bad. I’ll finish it later.”
Stretching lazily, she caught a glimpse of her sister, Mu Nanqiu, sitting on the couch and glued to her phone.
Curious, she leaned closer—only for Nanqiu to immediately lock the screen.
“What’re you reading, sis?”
“Not your business.”
With a stony face, Nanqiu casually pushed Beizhi’s head aside.
Honestly, that was merciful—she could’ve hit her.
Beizhi pouted.
Geez, dramatic much? It’s just a book.
Wait… a book?
Her expression twisted strangely.
Her sister had always been the cold, celibate, emotionless type—ice queen down to the bone.
Now she’s… reading romance novels?
Was this a sign?
Hormones?
Libido?
…But wait, it’s autumn. Then again, humans don’t really have mating seasons.
Before her brain could wander too far down that mental alley, Nanqiu gave her a good whack on the head.
“Ow ow ow! Okay, okay, I’m leaving!”
Beizhi scampered away, rubbing her skull. Nanqiu sighed when she saw her apple had already been bitten.
“That girl…”
She was about to scold her some more but then noticed the bathroom door had already been locked shut.
“Tch.”
Annoyed, she sat back down and reopened the novel on her phone.
As she scrolled line after line, chapter after chapter, her clenched jaw showed the emotional toll.
To the average reader, this might be some sweet, mindless schoolgirl fluff.
But to Mu Nanqiu?
It was hellfire in written form.
Every plot twist struck her like lightning—searing, humiliating, agonizing. When she finally reached the most recent chapter, she let out a deep exhale.
Her phone survived.
Barely.
She was this close to chucking it across the room.
But now that she was done reading, she didn’t want to break it anymore.
No.
She wanted to tie that damn author up, whip her until her hands shook from fatigue, then force her to type in front of her.
No food. No breaks. Just words.
Just one hour ago, she’d been in a good mood.
Then Hua Mingye sent her the link, claiming:
“It’s SO good, you HAVE to read it.”
Nanqiu gave it a shot. One chapter in and she was already on the phone, ready to kill.
And what did Hua Mingye say?
“The author’s QQ username is ‘LoveToSeeWhiteBuns’.”
How could Mu Nanqiu forget that ID?
She knew exactly who that was.
After closing the call, she actually laughed.
Was it from anger? Or something else?
Eventually, she opened her wallet, prepared to tip the author a thousand yuan.
But after thinking for a moment… she deleted a zero.
Then, in the donation message, she wrote:
“Love your writing. Can I add you on QQ?”
Her eyes narrowed.
She called Hua Mingye again.
“Anything else you’re not telling me?”
“Nope~ That’s everything I know. So… what now, A-Qiu?”
Nanqiu didn’t reply.
She simply hung up.
On the other end, Hua Mingye looked at her phone and muttered:
“Now then… what should I do about Wang Jing?”
“She’s tricky to handle.”
A playful giggle slipped from her lips.
Standing nearby, a young maid shivered from the sudden chill in the room, instinctively bowing her head—pretending she saw and heard absolutely nothing.
Yeah, Su Yao is fucked. She’s gonna find her either way…