Chapter 15

I woke up a little earlier than usual.

Not because of nerves.
At least... I don't think so.

Maybe I slept lighter.
Maybe the house felt a bit cooler this morning.
Or maybe my mind simply wasn't ready to rest as deeply as normal.

Either way, when sunlight slipped through the curtains, I decided there was no point staying in bed. I sat up, stretched, and quietly walked to wash my face.

The cold water helped wake me fully.

Another school day.

But today wasn't exactly the same.

Today was the first day Class 2-A and Class 2-B would share the morning period in our classroom.

I didn't feel excited.
Not like Cheng.
And not like half of my class, who were practically buzzing yesterday.

Still—
I couldn't pretend I felt nothing.

Yesterday afternoon returned to my mind unexpectedly.

Xia calling out to me—
loudly, confidently.
Yiyi beside her, bowing politely.
The exchange lasted barely ten seconds, yet somehow stuck with me.

I shook the thought away before it grew larger than it needed to.

When I came downstairs, Mom was already in the kitchen.

She looked up with her usual warm smile.

"Yuan'er, you're early today."

"I woke up before the alarm," I said.

"That's rare."
Her smile deepened.
"Good. It means today will go smoothly."

She placed a simple breakfast on the table—porridge, a boiled egg, and some stir-fried vegetables.
Nothing fancy, but comforting.

I sat down and ate quietly.

Mom joined me with her cup of morning tea.

"You mentioned yesterday that your class will work with Class 2-B today, right?" she asked gently.

"Yes. The first shared morning period."

"How do you feel?"

"...Normal, I guess."

"Only normal?" she teased softly.

I thought for a moment.

"It'll be... different," I admitted.
"New people. New groups. New interactions."

Mom sipped her tea.

"That's not a bad thing," she said.
"You're at an age where meeting different kinds of people is important. Opportunities come in small forms."

"...Maybe."

She reached out and gently patted my hand.
"You'll be fine, Yuan'er. Just be yourself."

"I wasn't planning to be anyone else," I said quietly.

Mom laughed, the soft, soothing kind of laugh that always made the morning feel calmer.

I finished breakfast, grabbed my bag, and put on my shoes.

Before I stepped out, Mom called from the kitchen:

"Come home safely! And say hello to Cheng for me if you see him this morning."

"I will."

The door clicked softly behind me as I stepped outside.

The air was crisp, the sky clear.
A typical Tuesday morning...
with just enough difference beneath it to make me feel slightly more alert than usual.

As I started walking toward school, I exhaled slowly.

Whatever today brought—
I would deal with it.

******

I left the house earlier than usual.

Not intentionally...
I just walked out the door without checking the time, and by the time I realized it, the streets were quieter than they normally were.

The sky was still a pale shade of morning blue, the breeze cool enough to make the walk refreshing.

As I turned the corner near the small convenience store, I noticed someone ahead walking in the same direction.

Medium-length hair.
Light steps.
Calm posture.

Ye Ling.

She seemed lost in thought, hugging her schoolbag lightly in front of her.

I considered slowing down to create distance.
But before I could decide, she turned slightly, and our eyes met.

She blinked.

"...Tang Yuan?"

I stopped for a moment.
"Good morning."

A soft smile appeared on her lips — warm and effortless.

"Good morning."

She stepped to the side of the sidewalk, waiting for me to catch up.

"You're early today," she said.

"So are you."

Her smile widened just a little.
"I woke up before my alarm. It felt like a good day to walk slowly."

"...I see."

We naturally fell into pace beside each other — not too close, not too far.

The walk was quiet at first.

Not an uncomfortable silence.
Just... gentle.

We walked in silence for a few steps until Ling spoke—quietly, as if choosing her words.

"Um... we'll probably have our group discussion soon," she said.
"Since... we're in the same group, it's good we ran into each other."

"...Right."

She laughed softly, a small nervous sound she tried to hide.

"I'm the representative for Class 2-B, but... honestly, I'm not used to leading anything."
She lowered her gaze slightly.
"I'm worried I might not coordinate well with everyone."

"You've handled everything well so far," I said.
"That's enough."

She blinked in surprise.

"Really?"

"You're organized. And you think things through before acting."
I paused.
"Cheng and Qing rely on you. That means something."

Her steps slowed just a fraction.

"...You noticed that?"

"It's obvious."

Ling's expression warmed—gentle, relieved, almost glowing in the morning light.

"Thank you," she said softly.
"It... actually helps hearing that from you."

The rest of the walk felt smoother, the tension easing into something more comfortable—
not close, but not distant either.

Something in between.

When the school building came into view, two familiar figures stood near the gate.

Cheng, waving his arm enthusiastically.
And beside him, Cai Qing — her posture confident, her eyes observant.

Cheng spotted us immediately.

"Oh? Yuan? You're early—"
He cut himself off.

His eyebrows rose.
A grin appeared slowly.

"...You came together?"

Ling stiffened slightly.
I felt my shoulders tense.

"It was just coincidence," I said.

"Ahh, coincidence," Cheng repeated, leaning in with exaggerated suspicion.
"Right. Right."

Cai Qing stepped forward, crossing her arms lightly.

"Well, it's unexpected," she said with a calm smile, "but... it suits you two."

Ling's cheeks turned faintly pink.

"Qing..."

"What?" Qing asked innocently.
"I'm just saying you look comfortable together."

Cheng elbowed me lightly.
"Yuan'er, you didn't tell me you were this smooth."

I blinked.
"I'm not."

Ling bit her lip, flustered but trying not to show it.

"I just happened to leave early," she said softly.
"And we walked from the same direction. That's all."

Cai Qing raised an eyebrow.

"Mhm. Just coincidence."
Her voice made it clear she didn't quite believe that.

Ling looked away.

Cheng leaned toward me again.

"I'll hear the full story later," he whispered.

"There is no story."

"Sure."

He grinned even wider.

The morning bell chimed overhead, saving the situation from dragging on.

Ling exhaled softly in relief.

"Let's... go inside," she suggested.

We entered the school together — not as a group, not as anything special —
but somehow, the atmosphere felt different.

More eyes.
More awareness.
More reasons for misunderstanding.

Not unpleasant.

Just... complicated.

And I wasn't sure what today would bring.

******

By the time Cheng and I walked upstairs to Class 2-A, the hallway was already lively. Students moved in small groups, chatting about the upcoming joint project or comparing homework they forgot to finish.

Cheng pushed open our classroom door with his usual energy.

"Morning!" he called into the room.

Several classmates responded.
I stepped in behind him—quietly, as usual—and headed to my desk near the window.

But something felt... different.

It didn't take long to figure out why.

A pair of girls near the front glanced toward me, then whispered to each other behind their hands.

Another student, sitting near the aisle, raised an eyebrow when I passed and nudged his friend.

Someone in the back muttered, not even pretending to lower his voice:

"Isn't that the Class 2-B rep he walked with?"

I exhaled silently.

So people had seen us.

Cheng grinned the moment he heard the whispers.

"Oh? Oh ho? You're popular this morning, Yuan'er."

"Don't start," I said.

He leaned closer, lowering his voice only slightly.
"But really—Ling? The rep of 2-B? Walking together? This is prime gossip fuel."

"It was coincidence."

"Sure. But coincidence is exactly what gets people talking."

I ignored him and took out my notebook.

The room was unusually animated.

Some students were comparing their group assignments again, even though everyone already knew them.

"I heard our group is using the science lab later."
"We need materials for brainstorming, right?"
"Do you think 2-B will be easy to work with?"
"My group has someone from the basketball team—lucky."

Cheng flopped into his seat beside mine.

"This project is going to be chaos. But fun chaos."

I didn't answer.

Not because I disagreed—
but because another quiet shift entered my awareness.

A pair of eyes.

Soft.
Unobtrusive.
But present.

I glanced sideways—
and saw Zhao Yiyi sitting at her desk, organizing her notes with careful precision.

She wasn't staring.
Not exactly.

More like... observing.
Measuring the atmosphere.
Picking up the changes around her—as she often did.

Her eyes met mine for half a second.

She blinked and returned to her notebook immediately.

I looked away as well.

It wasn't anything.
Just a moment.

But it lingered longer than expected.

Near the middle row, a boy stretched and said:

"Hey, did you guys see Tang Yuan with that girl earlier? That Class 2-B rep?"

"Yeah, they walked in from the front gate together."

"Are they close?"

"Who knows... are they in the same group?"

"They are," someone else said.
"They're with Liu Cheng and Cai Qing."

"Ahhh that's why."

The conversation drifted off as Cheng burst into laughter.

"See? Even I'm not this popular. And that hurts."

I sighed.
"It doesn't matter."

"Maybe not to you. But to everyone else? Oh, it matters."

He wasn't wrong.
But caring about it would only make it worse.

"Morning."

I looked up to find Lin Xia standing beside Yiyi's desk, smiling brightly as she put down her bag.

Her eyes swept the room quickly—
she noticed the gossip in an instant.
Her expression tightened with amused disapproval.

"You're trending," Cheng whispered.

"Don't say trending," I muttered.

Xia gave a short chuckle, glancing in our direction.

I couldn't tell if she was amused at the gossip—
or amused at the fact that Yiyi kept smoothing the pages of her notebook ever since she looked up earlier.

Either way, she didn't say anything directly.

Classroom noise swelled again as more students entered.

I sat back in my seat, listening to the familiar mix of chatter, footsteps, and chair scraping.

It was busy.
It was noisy.
It was normal.

Except for one thing:

Everyone was preparing for the project...
But it felt like everyone was also preparing to watch each other.

******

The bell rang, and conversations died down as our homeroom teacher entered the room.

"Good morning, Class 2-A."

We answered in unison.
She set her folder on the desk, looked over the room once, and began.

"As you already know, today will be your first joint project work session with Class 2-B. Homeroom will be brief so you can move to your assigned locations on time."

She opened her attendance sheet.

"Group room assignments are as follows:

Groups A and B: remain in this classroom

Groups C and D: use Science Lab 2

Groups E through H: use the multipurpose room"

A few students murmured quietly while confirming their groups with seatmates.

"Today," she continued, "your goal is to begin initial planning. You will not finalize themes yet—that will come later this week."

She closed the folder softly.

"When the second bell rings, gather your materials and move to your assigned rooms in an orderly manner. Class 2-B will meet you there."

That was all.
Efficient, simple, and direct.

The bell rang again a moment later.

Chairs scraped quietly as everyone stood, collecting their notebooks and pens.

Time to start.

Cheng and I made our way down the hall toward the multipurpose room assigned to our group.
A few other students from different groups walked ahead of us, some chatting, some looking half-asleep.

"Man, I hope our group doesn't get stuck doing something boring," Cheng said, swinging his bag lazily.
"Like... historical research. Or anything with charts."

"You're hoping too much," I replied.

He snorted. "Let me dream a little."

When we reached the multipurpose room, the door was already open.
Inside, Group E from Class 2-A was arranging their seats, claiming the front-left corner.

We headed toward a table near the center—enough space for four people.

Cheng dropped his bag and stretched.
"Ah—good spot."

I set down my notebook.
Cheng started rambling about possible project themes, none of which he actually thought through.

Then footsteps approached.

I looked up.

Ye Ling and Cai Qing entered the room together, both carrying notebooks.

Qing gave a small wave.
"Morning, you two."

Ling's eyes flickered briefly to me.
"Good morning."

Cheng grinned. "Perfect timing."

They took their seats—Ling next to Qing, across from me, Cheng on my right.

For a moment, no one spoke.
Not awkward silence—just the kind that happens before people decide how to begin.

Qing exhaled lightly, tapping her pencil on the table.

"Well, we should at least start with something," she said.
"The teacher said today is only pre-planning."

Cheng nodded. "Right. No need to finalize."

Ling opened her notebook carefully, her posture straight and tidy.

"I listed a few basic ideas last night," she said quietly.
"Just possibilities. Not themes yet."

She turned the notebook for us to see.

Her handwriting was small and neat:

Community-related themes

School environmental projects

Cultural exchange concepts

Daily-life improvement ideas

Cheng whistled. "You're really prepared, Ling."

Ling shook her head.
"It's nothing special. I just... didn't want to waste time today."

Qing smiled faintly.
"That's exactly why you're our representative."

Ling's ears reddened.

I scanned the list.
"They're broad enough to build on. It's a good starting point."

Ling looked surprised—almost too surprised—before lowering her gaze.

"...Thank you."

Cheng leaned forward.
"Okay! So which direction should we explore first?"

"Calm down," Qing said, pushing his forehead back with her finger.
"We're only comparing ideas."

He grinned sheepishly.

Ling tilted her head thoughtfully.
"I think we should choose a direction that all four of us can contribute to. Something balanced."

Qing nodded.
"Something neither too technical nor too artistic."

"And not something that requires outdoor work," Cheng added quickly.
"It's been too hot lately."

"You're just lazy," Qing said.

He didn't deny it.

Ling looked between us, then timidly offered:

"...We can each choose one broad category, then compare? It might be easier to discuss that way."

It was simple.
Efficient.
Not forcing anything.

"I'm fine with that," I said.

"Same," Cheng added.

"Works for me," Qing agreed.

Ling relaxed—just a little.

For the next twenty minutes:

We exchanged vague ideas

Clarified what counts as "broad"

Agreed to gather reference material for tomorrow

Set a small task for each person

No one argued.
No one dominated the conversation.

Ling's voice was soft but steady.
Qing kept everyone from going off-track.
Cheng made the atmosphere less stiff.
I filled in the gaps, keeping the discussion moving when pauses appeared.

If someone had looked at us from afar, they might have thought we already knew each other well.

We didn't—
but the balance wasn't bad.

Near the end of the session, Ling glanced at her notebook, then at me.

"Um... about the list I wrote... if you think it's too simple, you can say so."

"It's not," I replied.
"It helps us avoid going in circles."

She blinked.

"Really?"

"Really."

Her shoulders eased just slightly.

Qing noticed and gave her a gentle nudge with her elbow.

Cheng whispered to me, poorly hiding a smirk:

"She relaxes around you fast, huh?"

I ignored him.

The bell rang, signaling lunchbreak.

Students around us began packing up, chairs scraping lightly as groups disbanded.

Qing stretched her arms above her head.
"Well, that went smoother than I expected."

Ling closed her notebook neatly.
"Yes... it wasn't bad."

Cheng stood and slung his bag over his shoulder.
"Lunch? Yuan, let's go."

I nodded.

Qing and Ling exchanged glances—
then smiled politely at us.

"See you this afternoon," Qing said.

Ling bowed her head slightly.
"See you later."

We headed out.

The hallway outside buzzed with voices from both classes merging together, but my mind lingered briefly on the quiet table we'd just left.

It was only the first session—
but something had begun shifting.

Slowly.
Subtly.

Enough for me to notice

******

The hallways felt unusually crowded after the morning work session.
Students from both classes spilled out of their rooms at the same time, heading toward the cafeteria in loose clusters.

Cheng walked beside me, already complaining.

"I swear that planning session drained my energy. I need food or I'll die."

"You're dramatic," I said.

"Correct."

We turned the corner—

—and nearly bumped into Cai Qing and Ye Ling, who were coming from the opposite direction.

Qing slowed her steps.
"Oh—coincidence."

Ling gave a small nod.
"Hello."

Cheng flashed a grin.
"You two heading to lunch?"

"Yes," Qing answered. "It's crowded today, so we thought we should go early."

"That makes four of us then," Cheng said.

The hallway traffic pushed everyone in the same direction anyway, so the four of us naturally ended up walking together.

There wasn't much conversation—only the comfortable sort of silence that comes from people who aren't strangers anymore, but not close enough to speak without thinking.

The cafeteria was packed—students weaving through each other while balancing trays or scouting for empty tables.

Cheng muttered, "War zone," then marched toward the food counters.

We separated briefly to get our meals.
When we regrouped, Qing spotted two empty tables in the back corner.

"There," she said.

Cheng nodded. "Nice. Let's move before someone else steals it."

We took the table closer to the wall.
Not completely isolated, but quiet enough.

Cheng dug into his food immediately, sighing like he'd survived something life-threatening.

Qing opened her lunchbox neatly.
Ling sat across from me, lowering her gaze in that composed, polite way she always had.

Cheng started first—of course he did.

"So! About group work... I think we're doing pretty well."

Qing took a sip of her soup.
"It's only been one session."

"Still counts as progress."

Ling nodded softly.
"I'm glad we could discuss so many possibilities. It will make the next step smoother."

Cheng tapped his chopsticks against his tray.
"Yuan's the reason it stayed organized, honestly."

I frowned.
"I didn't do anything special."

"He always says that," Cheng told Qing and Ling.

Qing chuckled under her breath.
"I noticed. You're good at keeping things on track."

Ling's expression brightened—barely, but noticeable.

"Yes," she added quietly. "It helped a lot."

I wasn't sure how to respond, so I just picked up my drink.

The lunch wasn't noisy, dramatic, or particularly special.

But it was warm—
ordinary, in a way that felt strangely comfortable.

Qing asked Cheng about a manga adaptation.
Ling listened attentively and added quiet comments here and there.
I answered when someone directed a question at me.

Nothing forced.
Nothing awkward.

Just a group eating together because circumstances placed us in the same direction.

When the bell eventually rang, signaling the end of lunchbreak, we stood up almost at the same time.

Qing fixed her uniform sleeves.
"We'll see you two this afternoon."

Ling bowed her head slightly.
"Thank you for the meal."

Cheng saluted with his chopsticks before tossing them.
"See you later."

We left the cafeteria and blended back into the hallway traffic.

It wasn't much—
just lunch.

But it was enough to make the day feel different from yesterday.

******

After lunchbreak, the hallway gradually thinned as students returned to their own classrooms.
Cheng and I made our way back to Class 2-A, blending into the slow-moving stream of bodies.

By the time we arrived, most of our classmates were already settling into their seats.

Afternoon sunlight spilled through the windows—warm, steady, almost sleepy.

Cheng collapsed into his chair with a dramatic sigh.
"My body is ready," he groaned. "My mind, however, left this world ten minutes ago."

"You should've eaten less," I said.

"Impossible."

A few students laughed.
The room buzzed with that sluggish, familiar quietness that always came right before the first afternoon period.

Our teacher entered soon after, and class began.

The first subject was language arts.

Some students fought sleep.
Others took notes mechanically.
A few whispered whenever the teacher turned toward the board.

I listened, written notes half-automatic.

Occasionally, I heard snippets of conversations drifting from across the room:

"Group C already has two ideas."
"Our group is meeting after school."
"Did you see Class 2-B's rep? She's so serious-looking."

Someone else replied:

"I heard Tang Yuan's group is with two people from 2-B."

I ignored it.

Rumors had momentum.
Once they started rolling, they didn't stop easily.

When the teacher passed out worksheets, I looked up—and noticed Zhao Yiyi across the room.

She worked with steady concentration, completely unfazed by the noise around her.
Lin Xia leaned over occasionally to whisper something, and Yiyi listened with a slight nod before continuing her work.

Nothing unusual.

But for some reason, it grounded the atmosphere.
Her calmness seemed to settle the row of desks around her.

I went back to my own worksheet.

During the ten-minute break, Cheng turned his chair toward mine.

"So," he said, tapping his pencil, "how do you think our group will go?"

"It depends on whether we choose a direction fast."

"Yeah, but... personality-wise, it's not bad, right?"

"...Not bad."

He grinned, satisfied.

"Qing is smart, Ling is prepared, and you—well—you're you. I'm the only chaos in the group."

"That's accurate."

"Hey!"

I let the corner of my mouth twitch.
Barely noticeable—just enough for Cheng to notice and grin even wider.

Across the room, a pair of classmates whispered again, glancing in our direction, but I let it pass.

Rumors weren't worth the energy.

The bell rang, ending the short break.

The last class of the day moved slowly—like the entire room was waiting for the clock to catch up with them.

The teacher lectured.
Chairs creaked.
Someone dropped a pen and cursed under their breath.
Class 2-A behaved just enough to avoid getting scolded.

When the final bell rang, the room exhaled collectively.

Students stretched, packed up, and began spilling into the hallway in waves.

Cheng stood up, rolling his shoulders.

"All right. I need to grab a manga from the bookstore before I go home."

He looked at me.

"Want to come with me?"

I nodded.
"Sure."

We made our way toward the door—
and that's where the next moment would happen.

Cheng and I stepped out of the classroom as the hallway filled with the usual end–of–day noise—
the mix of laughter, shuffling bags, and scattered goodbyes bouncing against the walls.

"I'll go grab that manga before someone else buys it," Cheng said, tightening the strap of his backpack.
"You'll come with me, right?"

I nodded.
"I said I would."

"Good. If not, I'd drag you."

We turned the corner leading toward the stairwell—
and that was when I heard someone call out.

"Yuan!"

It wasn't loud, just clear enough to cut through the hallway noise.

We both stopped.
Cheng blinked.
I turned.

Lin Xia jogged up, her bag bouncing slightly against her shoulder.

"Ah—sorry," she said, catching her breath. "I meant... Tang Yuan."

She gave a sheepish smile, then stepped aside—

revealing someone standing just behind her.

Zhao Yiyi.

She stood a little straighter when our eyes met, her posture tidy as always.
Not nervous.
Not flustered.
Just... composed.

"Sorry to stop you both," Xia said. "We were talking about project stuff earlier, and—uh—we figured we should say good luck for the week."

Yiyi nodded politely.

"Yes. Good luck."

I hesitated only a second before answering.

"...You too."

Cheng waved casually.
"Yeah, good luck to you girls too."

Xia beamed.
"Thanks!"

The whole thing lasted no more than a few seconds.

A simple greeting.
A polite exchange.
Nothing else.

But the moment Xia and Yiyi walked past us and merged into the flow of students heading down the hallway, Cheng elbowed me.

"Hey," he said, smirking, "look at you. Being social."

"I didn't do anything."

He laughed.
"That's the point."

I ignored him and continued walking.

Yet as we stepped down the stairs, I caught myself replaying the brief moment—
not because anything happened,
but because it was the first time we had spoken directly.

Barely a handful of words.

Still—
more than before.