Chapter 13

"A Morning Before Things Begin"

I woke up a little earlier than usual.

Not because I was excited.
Nor because anything special was waiting for me at school.

It was just... one of those mornings where the room felt lighter, as if the air was reminding me that something new was about to start—even if I wasn't sure what that "something" was.

I lay still for a few minutes, staring at the faint sunlight cutting across my ceiling.
Joint-class project starts today.
That's what Cheng said over and over yesterday.

Honestly, I wasn't nervous.
Just mildly curious.
A different schedule, a few unfamiliar faces—nothing worth losing sleep over.

But even so... it felt like a page turning.

After washing up, I walked to the kitchen.
The smell of eggs and warm soup told me my mom was already up.

"Morning, Yuan'er," she greeted me gently, back turned as she stirred something on the stove.

"Morning," I replied, sitting down.

She placed breakfast in front of me, then sat opposite with her own cup of tea.
Her hair was tied loosely today, making her look softer than usual.

"So," she began, "your teacher mentioned something yesterday, right? Today is the start of some joint class activity?"

I nodded. "A group project. Our class will work with Class 2-B."

"That sounds lively," she smiled. "Are you okay with it?"

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"You get nervous easily."

"...I don't think I do."

She gave me that look—half amused, half motherly.

"Yuan'er, you couldn't even order noodles alone until you were twelve."

"That was years ago."

She laughed softly, and I decided not to argue further.

After a moment, she added, "Will that girl be there today?"

"...Which girl?"

"The one from the restaurant. Ye Ling, wasn't it?" She sipped her tea. "You mentioned she's from Class 2-B."

Ah. So she remembered that.

"She's in that class, yes."

"Are you two getting along at work?"

I paused for a moment, searching for a simple answer.

"...We talk sometimes."

"Hmm," she hummed with a knowing smile. "That's good."

I stabbed a piece of egg to avoid her gaze.

"It's not like that."

"Mhm~ sure."

She definitely wasn't convinced.

Then she softened again and reached for her cup.
"Oh, and your shift this week—remember, if you're tired, you can tell Auntie Ye. She's a kind woman."

"I know."

"And Ling seems like a good girl too. Calm. Polite."

I forced myself not to respond.

Mom smiled like she was enjoying this far too much.

As I finished eating and stood to leave, she called out, "Yuan'er."

I turned.

"Good luck today. Even small things can lead to something meaningful."

I wasn't sure what she meant by that.
Maybe she didn't know either.
Maybe she just said it to encourage me.

Still...

As I stepped outside and felt the morning breeze brush against me, her words lingered longer than I expected.

Today probably wouldn't be special.

But maybe—
just maybe—
something small would begin.

******

The air outside was cool enough to clear my head.
Morning breeze, quiet streets, a few early risers walking their dogs—the kind of peaceful start I preferred.

I slipped my hands into my pockets and followed the familiar path toward school.
Usually, this time of day felt like a blank page.
But today, my thoughts kept drifting back to the joint project.

Not because I was looking forward to it.
Not because of any anxiety.
Just a quiet curiosity I couldn't brush aside.

Group assignments... joint class... new faces.
Cheng was excited—too excited, probably.

I exhaled slowly.
Group work again, huh.

At least I wasn't alone this time.
Class 2-B wasn't unfamiliar anymore.
Not after my part-time job.

My steps slowed a little as a memory surfaced.

— Yesterday evening.

After my shift, as I grabbed my bag to leave, Ye Ling stopped beside me.

"Um... Tang Yuan," she said softly, fiddling with the hem of her sleeve, "since we'll be in the same project soon... maybe it's better if we can contact each other? For schedules and such."

Her voice was polite, steady—typical Ling.
But there was a faint hesitation there too.

"Oh... sure," I had replied.

We exchanged contacts.
Simple.
Normal.

But on the way home, she sent the first message.

Thank you for your help today. And... for listening, too.

My reply was something plain—

You're welcome.

Short, boring.
Something Cheng would scold me for.

Ling didn't message further, but she left a small "Good night" sticker afterward.

Even now, I wasn't sure if it was really about the group project...

...or if she just wanted an excuse.

I shook my head, trying to stop overthinking.
We were just coworkers, nothing more.

Probably.

As I approached the school gate, a familiar voice cut through the growing crowd.

"Yuan'er! Over here!"

Sure enough, Liu Cheng was waving dramatically like I was a lost child he needed to rescue.

"You're early today," he said as I reached him. "That's rare. Did something good happen?"

"Nothing happened," I answered.

"That 'nothing' face is suspicious," he teased. "Did you maybe text someone last night? Hm?"

"...No."

"Lies. Absolute lies."

I sighed, stepping past him. "You imagine too much."

Cheng quickly fell into step beside me.

"Anyway," he grinned, "joint project begins today! Think we'll be grouped with anyone interesting?"

"I don't know."

"Come on, at least pretend to care."

"I am pretending."

"Your pretending is worse than not pretending."

We walked through the hallway together, the noise of students echoing around us.
Class felt the same as always—familiar desks, familiar chatter, familiar morning atmosphere.

But deep down, beneath all the routine...

Something felt like it was shifting.
Slowly.
Quietly.
Almost too subtle to notice.

And yet, I noticed it anyway.

******

By the time Cheng and I entered the classroom, most of the seats were already filled.
The warm morning sunlight draped across the desks, giving the room a quiet glow that almost made it feel like nothing had changed since last week.

Almost.

I took my seat, placing my bag down, and glanced around discreetly.

Lin Xia was laughing about something with two girls from the front row.
She waved her hands dramatically, probably retelling some story she exaggerated by at least fifty percent.
Her energy never changed.

Zhao Yiyi, on the other hand, sat in her usual spot near the window.
Straight-backed, composed, her hair falling neatly over her shoulder as she read her notes.
The light from outside rimmed her profile softly, making her look even more distant than usual.

If I didn't know she was actually kind beneath that cool exterior, I might still believe she disliked talking to people.

Cheng leaned toward me with a grin. "Yuan'er, look. Yiyi seems extra serious today. Maybe she cares about this project."

"Or she's just studying."

"Impossible. No one studies before homeroom."

I didn't bother answering him.
Instead, I opened my own notebook, pretending to review yesterday's lesson.
But my eyes kept drifting.

Some students in the back row whispered excitedly about which class they hoped to pair up with.
A few were already discussing potential group members.
Even the quiet ones seemed a little more alert than usual.

The room felt... expectant.

Like everyone was waiting for something to begin.

I wasn't sure what I hoped for, if anything at all.
Group work was just group work.

Still...

My gaze flicked briefly toward the window.
Soft breeze, warm sunlight, faint blooming scents from the courtyard.

A new week.
A new assignment.
A small ripple in an otherwise quiet routine.

Maybe that was enough to make the morning feel different.

The bell rang, and the class settled slowly—well, "settled" was generous. Most students were still shifting in their seats, whispering, tapping pens, or exchanging glances of barely contained excitement.

Our homeroom teacher entered with a folder tucked under her arm, took a moment to scan the lively room, and sighed in a way that suggested she expected none of us to listen properly today.

"Alright," she began, placing the folder on the desk, "I have an announcement regarding the joint project with Class 2-B."

Instant silence.
Even Cheng stopped moving.

The teacher seemed mildly impressed.

"As I was saying... Today will mark the beginning of the collaboration period. Before you get carried away—"
Her gaze swept over the back row.
"—no, you will not be choosing your own groups. And yes, I am aware some of you were hoping for that."

A few people groaned.

Teacher continued:

"Here's how it will work. After second period, our class and Class 2-B will gather in the multipurpose room. Think of it as an introduction session. You'll meet the representatives from their class, hear their initial ideas, and get an overview of what the project aims to accomplish."

She paused, flipping open his folder.

"This year's theme is: 'Community and Connection.'
Interpret it however your group sees fit—creatively, academically, socially. The purpose is to develop cooperation and communication between students from different classes."

Cheng whispered, "That sounds... deep."

I whispered back, "It sounds like work."

Teacher cleared his throat, calling everyone back to attention.

"And since most of you already saw the group placements posted yesterday—"
A wave of reactions spread across the room.
Some relieved, some not.

"—please remember that those groups are final. We will not be changing them, so refrain from requesting swaps or complaining about your partners."

Half the class immediately avoided eye contact.

Teacher continued:

"Today is simply an orientation. You will meet Class 2-B formally, hear their representative's ideas, and get an overview of the project structure. Actual project work will begin next week."

She gave a pointed look toward several chatterboxes in the back.

"So, no need to ask who you'll be paired with. You all know already."

A few embarrassed laughs spread across the room.

"Instead," she continued, "teachers from both classes will observe how students interact during the introduction. We will form groups based on balance—personality, academic strength, communication, and so on."

That explained the "compatibility" part she mentioned earlier.

"So, I expect you all," she emphasized, "to behave normally. That means—no showing off, no unnecessary loudness, and definitely no trying to 'impress' the other class."

Her eyes landed directly on Cheng.

Cheng pointed to himself as if saying, Who, me?
Teacher did not look convinced.

She returned to his notes:

"You will need your notebooks, pens, and any ideas you already have. Class 2-B will share theirs as well. After the introduction session, both classes will return to their rooms and resume regular lessons."

Somebody from the front raised a hand.
"Sensei, will the project affect our grades?"

"Yes," the teacher replied bluntly. "A part of your term score will come from this project. So please treat it seriously."

More murmurs.
Some nervous, some excited.

Teacher closed his folder.

"That is all for now. Remember: multipurpose room, after second period. Don't be late. Don't wander. And for the love of all things peaceful—"
He looked straight at Cheng again.
"—don't cause chaos."

"Sensei, you wound me," Cheng whispered dramatically.

The class laughed.

Homeroom ended, and as teacher exited, the room instantly filled with buzzing energy.
Students began fixing their uniforms, adjusting hair clips, straightening ties—trying to look presentable for a class they hadn't even met yet.

Lin Xia was already chatting about "possible group combinations."
Yiyi quietly put away her notebook, her expression unreadable but clearly attentive.
A faint breeze came in from the window beside her, lifting a strand of hair.

It felt like the whole classroom had shifted into a different rhythm.
Subtle, but noticeable.

Cheng leaned over, grinning.
"Yuan'er, the adventure begins."

"It's a school project."

"Exactly. Every great story starts with something boring."

I clicked my pen once.

Maybe he was joking.
Maybe he wasn't.

Either way...

Something in the air really was different.

The multipurpose room was already half-filled when Class 2-A arrived.
Students from both classes sat in loose clusters, most of them already searching for their group partners with subtle, curious glances.

Of course they were.
The group placements were posted yesterday.
Everyone already knew who they'd be working with.

Some looked excited.
Some disappointed.
Some nervous.

Cheng had been buzzing since morning.

"My group is amazing," he whispered proudly as we walked in. "You, me, Qing, Ling? It's balanced. Smart. Beautiful. Perfect."

"I don't remember looks being a grading criteria," I replied.

"It should be."

We found our seats.
As expected, Qing and Ling were seated not far from where our class settled.
Ling gave a small, polite glance when she noticed us.

Cheng elbowed me.
"She noticed you again."

"She noticed us."

"No, she looked at you first."

I didn't respond.

On the other side of the room, Yiyi sat quietly beside Xia.
Their group—Rui, Xia, and Yiyi—was one people had whispered about yesterday.

Some said Rui was lucky.
Some said Yiyi seemed too calm for him.
Some wondered how Xia would balance the other two.

Yiyi didn't react to the stares.
Her eyes moved slowly around the room, stopping briefly when they passed over Ling... then over me... then settling back on her notebook.

Not much expression, but something thoughtful lingered in her gaze.

Our homeroom teacher stepped up to the podium.

"Good morning. Now that everyone is here, let's officially begin the joint class project introduction. Since group placements were already announced yesterday, today will focus on confirming expectations and understanding the theme."

A wave of whispers spread across the room.

Teacher continued:

"The theme is 'Community and Connection.' Each group will explore this from their own perspective. Your responsibilities start next week, but today you'll hear from the representatives and clarify the project framework."

She turned toward Class 2-B.

"Class 2-B's representative—Ye Ling."

Ling stood up quietly and approached the podium.
Even though everyone already knew she was in my group, seeing her present carried a different weight.

Her voice was calm and steady.

"Our class is looking forward to working with Class 2-A. Since the groups are already formed, I hope today helps everyone understand the theme clearly. For our group, I believe cooperation and communication will be most important."

Her eyes flicked toward us—
first me, then Cheng, then Qing—
just brief acknowledgments, nothing more.

Still, whispers rose:

"That's Ling's group."
"Looks like they'll do well."
"Tang Yuan and Ling... interesting combination."

I pretended not to hear.

Meanwhile, across the aisle, Rui was straightening his jacket nervously.
Every time Ling spoke, he stole a glance at Yiyi, as if trying to mimic her calmness.

Xia whispered something to her.
Yiyi replied softly.
Her gaze flicked toward Ling's group again.

Ling finished speaking and bowed lightly.
Qing clapped a fraction earlier than the rest, smiling proudly.

Our class representative took the podium next and reiterated the project's goals, reminding everyone of their group roles. The atmosphere slowly relaxed.

Some students whispered:

"Yiyi's group looks tough but smart."
"Xia will keep things balanced."
"What about Rui?"
"Well... he'll try."
"At least Yiyi won't let him slack."

And another group:

"Tang Yuan's group is strong."
"Ling and Qing are dependable."
"Cheng's enthusiasm might help or destroy them."
"Mostly destroy."

Through all of it, I stayed quiet.
Not bored—just watching.

The teachers dismissed us with reminders:

"Projects begin next week."
"Talk to your group members soon."
"And stay respectful."

As we stood to leave, Cheng stretched with satisfaction.

"See? Our group is popular already."

I didn't answer.

But I couldn't deny it—
there was a strange, subtle current in the air.

Something shifting.
Something beginning.

When the teachers dismissed us, the multipurpose room erupted into a mix of movement and chatter. Chairs scraped, students stretched their arms, and clusters formed almost immediately—some excited, some reluctant, some already planning.

Cheng looked delighted.
"Yuan'er, did you hear? People think our group is strong. That means we're destined for greatness."

"You just want to brag."

"It's part of my charm."

I grabbed my notebook, ignoring him, and stood. Students began filing toward the door, the corridor outside already swelling with noise from both classes merging back into the regular school flow.

As we stepped out, someone called softly:

"Ah, Tang Yuan."

I turned.

Ye Ling and Cai Qing had approached—calm, composed, not rushing even though the hallway was getting crowded.

Ling offered a gentle nod.
"It seems we'll be working together soon."

Her tone wasn't overly polite or distant.
Just... natural.
As if she'd already accepted it comfortably.

Cai Qing crossed her arms loosely, smiling.
"I hope you can handle Cheng. You'll need patience."

"Oh come on," Cheng protested. "I'm the pillar of this group."

"You're the pillar of noise," Qing corrected without missing a beat.

Cheng clutched his chest dramatically.
"Qing... you wound me again."

She ignored him with practiced elegance.

Ling looked at me again.
"We'll talk more next week, when the project starts. But if anything comes up before that... you can message me."

It was a simple statement.
Logical.
Practical.

But for some reason, Qing gave her a sideways glance that carried a hint of teasing, as if she noticed something beneath the surface.

I nodded.
"Sure."

Cheng leaned forward, whispering loudly,
"Wow, Yuan'er, you're getting popular."

Qing flicked his forehead.
"Don't talk nonsense."

Ling's ears turned faintly pink.

I looked away.

"Let's go," I said, trying to end the moment.

We merged into the hallway flow. Students from both classes spread in different directions—some heading back to the rooms, others stopping to chat with their soon-to-be group members.

As we walked, I caught a glimpse of Yiyi and Xia among the crowd.

Xia was cheerfully talking; Yiyi listened quietly, nodding occasionally.
But just for a moment—barely a breath in time—
Yiyi's eyes drifted toward Ling and me before she looked away again.

No change in expression.
No obvious reaction.

Yet something in her gaze lingered long enough that Xia noticed.

Xia tilted her head, whispering something.
Yiyi simply shook hers.

I looked forward again.

Cheng stretched his arms behind his head.
"Man, I'm pumped for this. Our group is going to be amazing."

"You haven't done anything yet," I said.

"Confidence is step one!"

"Then what's step two?"

Cheng grinned.
"I'll tell you when I figure it out."

I sighed.

But as we walked back toward our classroom, surrounded by familiar faces and unfamiliar possibilities...

I couldn't deny it.

Something small had shifted today.
Not loud.
Not dramatic.

Just a quiet change in the air—
one I felt even if I didn't fully understand it.

After we returned from the multipurpose room, the classroom felt slightly different—even though nothing physical had changed.

Same desks.
Same walls.
Same cluttered chalkboard.

But the air was different.

People who normally never spoke to each other were suddenly comparing notes or talking about group plans. Students who had never cared about class events were now leaning across aisles, asking their soon-to-be project partners what they were good at.

Even our teacher seemed mildly amused when he walked in and saw everyone unusually lively.

I took my seat.
Cheng immediately spun his chair around to face me.

"So, Yuan'er," he whispered, "be honest. Are you nervous about working with two pretty girls?"

"No."

"Liar."

I opened my textbook.

"I'm only worried you'll ruin the project."

"That's valid," Qing said, walking past us to her seat.

Cheng gasped. "Qing! Betrayal!"

She smirked.
"You'll survive."

Ling entered quietly behind her, greeted a few classmates from her side of the room, then exchanged a polite glance my way before taking her seat among the 2-B students temporarily using our room.

Nothing more.
Nothing less.

Still...
I felt the glance.

The teacher began writing formulas on the board.
I tried to focus, but the murmurs from other students made it impossible to ignore the changing dynamics.

"Hey, we're in the same group, right? What should we do first?"
"Maybe meet on Saturday?"
"No, I have cram school."
"Yiyi's group seems serious."
"Qing's group is stacked, wow."

Cheng leaned toward me again.

"They're talking about you, Yuan'er."

"No, they're talking about the group."

"You are the group."

I resisted the urge to shut his mouth with my notebook.

During a moment of quiet note-taking, I accidentally looked up and met Yiyi's eyes from across the room.

Only for a second.

Her gaze was cool and unreadable...
but not cold.
More like she was observing something carefully, without understanding why.

Then Xia nudged her shoulder, whispering something.
Yiyi blinked, looked away, and nodded.

I returned to my notes.

Halfway through the lesson, the teacher allowed a short break. Students stretched, chatted, walked around. The noise level rose.

Ling approached our desk area with a notebook in hand.

"Tang Yuan," she said softly, "do you think we should discuss roles soon? Not today, but sometime before next week."

Cheng raised his eyebrows so high they almost hit the ceiling.

I nodded.
"Sure. We can message about it later."

"Alright." She smiled—small, sincere—and stepped away.

As she returned to her seat, I caught sight of Yiyi again.

She wasn't staring.
Not this time.

But she noticed.
That much was clear.

Xia leaned in and whispered something that made Yiyi silently press her lips together, as if trying not to react.

By the time the last lesson ended, half the class was exhausted, and the other half looked eager to start planning their projects already.

The teacher gave final reminders:

"Your group responsibilities begin next week. Don't wait until the last minute to talk to each other. And don't gather in the hallways to gossip—I can hear all of you."

Everyone laughed because it was true.

Bags zipped open. Chairs scraped. Students spilled into the hallway.

Cheng had to run errands for his mom, so for once, I didn't have him trailing behind me.

As I walked down the hallway alone, some students from 2-B passed by, waving politely.
Qing gave me a little nod.
Ling gave a small smile.

Just before I turned the corner, I heard Xia's voice calling out behind me.

"Yuan! Ah—sorry, Tang Yuan!"

I paused and looked back.

Xia jogged up with Yiyi beside her.

"Sorry," Xia said, catching her breath, "we were talking about project groups earlier, so—uh—we thought we should say good luck."

Yiyi bowed her head politely.
"Good luck."

"...You too," I replied.

It lasted only a moment.

Then Xia tugged Yiyi's sleeve.
"Let's go! If we're late, the buses get crowded!"

They walked off—
Yiyi following quietly, Xia leading noisily.

Yiyi didn't look back.

But the moment lingered anyway.

Nothing dramatic happened today.

But the small pieces were shifting.

Ling's quiet sincerity.
Qing's confident presence.
Cheng's relentless teasing.
Yiyi's brief glances.
Xia's unintended meddling.
Whispers among students.
Group expectations settling in place.

The project hadn't even begun yet—
and already,
the distance between everyone
was slowly changing.