Chapter 1

Sunlight filtered through the tall windows, catching the dust in the air and making everything look like it was trapped in slow motion.

I slipped into my seat near the back and opened the novel I'd been reading. The words pulled me in instantly — quiet, orderly, predictable. Just how I liked things.

It lasted for about three minutes.

A loud thud made me look up. Someone had dropped their bag right on my desk.

"Morning, bookworm."

I didn't need to look to know who it was.
"Liu Cheng," I sighed. "You have your own desk."

"Yeah, but mine's boring," he said, grinning as he dragged a chair over and sat backwards on it, arms resting on the backrest. "Yours has that mysterious, lonely energy. Very artistic."

I ignored him and turned a page.

He leaned forward, trying to peek at the cover. "What are you reading this time? Another detective story? Or some tragic romance where everyone dies in the end?"

"It's just a book," I muttered.

"Everything's just a book with you." He grinned wider. "You know, one day, you'll read so much that your brain starts speaking in chapter titles."

I glanced at him, unamused. "You're very talkative in the morning."

"Gotta balance out your silence somehow."

That was Liu Cheng — loud, cheerful, impossible to ignore. He had short red hair that caught the light like copper and a grin that seemed permanently fixed in place. Somehow, people liked that about him.

He was already chatting with someone else across the aisle, cracking jokes, borrowing pens he'd never return, and somehow getting away with it all.

"Hey," he said suddenly, turning back to me. "Weekend. Plans?"

"None."

"Perfect. We'll make some, then."

I closed the book, finally giving him my full attention. "I'm not going."

"You don't even know what it is yet."

"I don't need to."

He laughed. "You're hopeless, Tang Yuan. You know that?"

"I've heard."

But despite his teasing, I could tell he meant well. He always did.
Maybe that's why we'd been friends since middle school — because no matter how far I drifted into my own quiet world, he never stopped pulling me back toward his.

I rolled my eyes but couldn't help the faint smile tugging at my lips. Cheng was loud, irritating, and always right in his own way. Without him, my days would probably be completely silent — and maybe that scared me a little.

Across the room, another kind of noise rippled through the air — the light, effortless laughter of Zhao Yiyi and her friends.

She sat near the front, surrounded by the usual circle of girls. The kind of group that made everything look like a scene from a movie — smiles, polished uniforms, the occasional burst of giggling.

Zhao Yiyi didn't laugh much herself, though. She mostly listened, lips curved just slightly, eyes soft but distant. There was something quiet about her, even when she was surrounded by people — a calmness that drew attention without trying.

I'd never spoken to her before. There wasn't a reason to — our worlds just didn't overlap. She had light around her; I preferred the shade.

Still, sometimes, when I turned a page or looked out the window, I'd catch her reflection in the glass — a faint, blurred shape framed by sunlight.

And every time, I told myself I wasn't really looking.

*****

By the time the lunch bell rang, the classroom emptied faster than usual.
Everyone either rushed to the cafeteria or gathered in little circles, trading jokes and snacks.

I stayed behind, unwrapping the bento my mother had packed.
The sound of chairs scraping and chatter fading away was strangely peaceful.

Of course, peace never lasted long when Liu Cheng was around.

"Bro! You're still eating in here?" he called, balancing two bread buns and a carton of milk as he dropped into the seat across from me.

"You make it sound like a crime," I said.

"It is, socially speaking." He grinned, unbothered by the glare I gave him. "You know, the cafeteria's where civilization happens. People talk, share food, complain about math homework..."

"I don't like crowds," I said flatly.

He unwrapped one of his buns, taking a huge bite. "You don't like anything that involves more than two people."

I didn't argue — because he wasn't wrong.

"So," he said between bites, "this weekend. The guys are thinking of going to the mall. Maybe hit the arcade, grab food. You in?"

I shook my head immediately. "Can't."

"Don't tell me you're planning to spend the whole weekend reading again."

"Partly," I said. "But mostly because I've got work starting soon. My dad's friend needs someone to help at his restaurant."

He blinked. "Wait, seriously? You, working? Voluntarily?"

"Part-time," I corrected. "I start next week."

Liu Cheng laughed, leaning back in his chair. "That's actually impressive. I didn't think you'd go for something like that."

"It's not like I had much choice," I said. "It'll be fine."

He pointed at me with what was left of his bun. "Well, guess I'll have to visit. Make sure you're not scaring customers away with that gloomy face."

"I'll be fine without supervision."

"Too bad," he said with a grin. "You're not escaping me that easily."

I sighed, but a small smile tugged at the corner of my mouth before I could stop it.

That was the thing about Liu Cheng — he had a way of making my world a little louder, a little more inconvenient... but also, a little less lonely.

*****

The afternoon dragged on slower than usual.
Sunlight drifted lazily across the classroom floor, inching from one side of my desk to the other while the teacher's voice faded into background noise.

When the final bell rang, it felt more like a relief than an ending.

Liu Cheng stretched in his seat beside me. "Finally! Freedom."
He turned to me with his usual grin. "You sure you don't wanna hang out tonight? The guys might go play basketball."

I shook my head, closing my notebook. "You already know my answer."

"Yeah, yeah," he said, slinging his bag over one shoulder. "The mysterious scholar has better things to do."

"Something like that."

He laughed and patted my shoulder. "Fine. Don't vanish into your books completely, alright? I'll see you tomorrow."

"Mm."

As he left, the room grew quieter. Only the soft hum of the fluorescent lights and the faint chatter from the hallway remained.

For a while, I just sat there, staring at the cover of the novel in my hand. The story was good — too good, maybe — but I didn't feel like reading anymore.

I packed up slowly, thinking about the upcoming part-time job.
It wasn't something I'd planned out carefully; it just sort of happened. My mother mentioned it, my father agreed, and I didn't see a reason to refuse. Maybe... it'd be a change of pace.

Outside, the sky had turned gold. The kind of light that made the air feel slower, softer.
I slipped my earphones in and walked toward the station, deciding to stop by the bookstore before heading home.

There was a new release I'd been waiting for — something from an author I liked.

Just before I reached the bookstore, my phone buzzed.
A message from my mother:

Mom: On your way home, can you stop by the market and get some ingredients for dinner?
Mom: Tofu, green onions, maybe some fresh vegetables.

I typed back quickly:

Tang Yuan: Got it.

I looked at the fading sunlight through the shop windows. Maybe it wasn't such a bad way to end the day — books first, groceries later, and a quiet walk home.

Simple. Predictable. Peaceful.

Exactly how I liked it.