Chapter 1

I woke up a little earlier than usual.

Not because I was excited.
Not because anything special was waiting at school.

It was just... one of those mornings where the room felt a bit lighter, as if the air was hinting that something new was about to start—even if I didn't know what.

I lay there for a few minutes, watching faint sunlight stretch across the ceiling.

Joint-class project starts today.
That's what Cheng repeated nonstop yesterday.

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

Still... it felt like a small page turning.

After washing up, I headed to the kitchen.

The smell of eggs and warm soup told me Mom was already up.

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

"Morning," I replied, taking my seat.

She set breakfast in front of me, then sat down with her tea.
Her loosely tied hair made her look softer than usual.

"So," she began, "your teacher mentioned something yesterday, right? Today's the start of that joint class activity?"

I nodded. "A group project. Our class is paired with 2-B."

"That sounds lively," she said with a small smile. "Are you okay with it?"

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"You get nervous easily."

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

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

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

"That was years ago."

She laughed quietly, and I let the topic drop.

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

"...Which girl?"

"The one from the restaurant. Ye Ling, right? You said she's in 2-B."

Right. She remembered.

"She is."

"Are you two getting along at work?"

I paused, choosing the simplest answer.

"...We talk sometimes."

"Hm." Her smile turned knowing. "That's good."

I stabbed a piece of egg instead of looking at her.

"It's not like that."

"Mhm~ sure."

She definitely wasn't convinced.

Her tone softened again. "Oh, and your shift this week—if you're tired, tell Auntie Ye. She's a kind woman."

"I know."

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

I pretended not to hear that part.

Mom looked far too entertained.

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.
Maybe she wasn't either.

Still...

As I stepped outside and the morning breeze brushed 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 calm start I preferred.

Hands in my pockets, I followed the familiar path toward school.
Normally, this time of day felt like a blank page.

Today, though, my mind kept drifting back to the joint project.

Not because I was excited or anxious.
Just... curious in a way I couldn't ignore.

Group assignments.
Joint class.
New faces.

Cheng was excited—too excited.

I exhaled slowly.

Group work again, huh.

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

My steps slowed a little as a memory surfaced.

— Yesterday evening.

After my shift, just as I grabbed my bag to leave, Ye Ling approached.

"Um... Tang Yuan," she said, gently tugging at her sleeve, "since we'll be in the same project... maybe we should exchange contacts? For schedules and stuff."

Her voice was calm, polite as always.
But there was a small hesitation there too.

"Oh... sure."

We exchanged contacts.
Simple enough.

But on my way home, she sent the first message:

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

My reply was the usual plain one:

You're welcome.

Short. Dry.
Something Cheng would definitely complain about.

Ling didn't reply again—just a small "Good night" sticker.

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

...or if she just wanted an excuse.

I shook my head.
We were just coworkers.

Probably.

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

"Yuan! Over here!"

Cheng waved like I'd been missing for weeks.

"You're early today," he said, narrowing his eyes. "Suspicious. Did something good happen?"

"Nothing happened."

"That doesn't sound convincing. Did you text someone last night?"

"...No."

"Lies."

I walked past him with a sigh.
"You imagine too much."

He quickly fell in beside me.

"Anyway! Joint project starts today. Think we'll get grouped with anyone interesting?"

"I don't know."

"At least pretend to care."

"I am pretending."

"Your pretending sucks."

We walked down the hallway together, swallowed by the usual morning noise.
Everything looked the same—desks, chatter, the usual routine.

But somewhere beneath all that familiarity...

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

And yet,
I felt it.

******

By the time Cheng and I entered the classroom, most of the seats were already filled.

Warm morning sunlight draped across the desks, giving the room a quiet glow that made everything feel the same as last week.

Almost.

I took my seat, set my bag down, and glanced around.

Lin Xia was laughing with two girls in the front row, waving her hands dramatically as she retold some story she probably exaggerated by at least fifty percent.
Her energy was unchanged as always.

Zhao Yiyi 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 framed her profile softly, making her look even more distant than usual.

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

Cheng leaned over with a grin.
"Yuan, 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 responding.
I flipped open my notebook, pretending to review yesterday's lesson, though my attention drifted around the room.

The back row was already whispering about which class they hoped to be paired with.
Others discussed potential groups.
Even the quiet students looked a little more alert than usual.

The room felt... expectant.

Like everyone was waiting for something to begin.

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

Still...

My gaze drifted toward the window.
Soft breeze, warm sunlight, a faint scent of flowers from the courtyard.

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

Maybe that alone was enough to make the morning feel different.

******

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

Our homeroom teacher entered with a folder tucked under her arm.
She scanned the lively room and let out a sigh that suggested she already knew none of us would listen properly today.

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

Instant silence.

Even Cheng froze.

The teacher raised an eyebrow, mildly impressed.

"As I was saying... today marks the beginning of the collaboration period. Before you get carried away—"
Her gaze shifted toward the back row.
"—no, you will not be choosing your own groups. And yes, I'm aware some of you were hoping for that."

A few people groaned.

She 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 their class representatives, hear their initial concepts, and get an overview of the project."

She opened her folder.

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

Cheng leaned toward me. "That sounds... deep."

"It sounds like work," I whispered back.

The teacher cleared her throat sharply, and we straightened up.

"And since most of you already saw the group placements posted yesterday—"

A small wave of reactions swept the room.
Some relieved, some disappointed.

"—please remember that those groups are final. No swaps, no complaints."

Half the class immediately looked away.

"Today is only orientation. You'll meet Class 2-B formally, hear their representative's ideas, and learn the project structure. Actual work begins next week."

She shot a pointed stare toward several chatterboxes in the back.

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

A few awkward laughs escaped.

"Teachers from both classes will observe how you interact during the introduction. We'll form groups based on balance—personality, academic strengths, communication, and so on."

So that explained the "compatibility" comment she mentioned before.

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

Her gaze landed directly on Cheng.

Cheng pointed at himself dramatically, as if saying, Who, me?
She didn't look amused.

"You'll need your notebooks, pens, and any ideas you already have. Class 2-B will share theirs as well. After the introduction, we'll return to regular lessons."

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

"Yes," she answered flatly. "A portion of your term score will come from this. Treat it seriously."

Murmurs filled the room—some excited, some suddenly nervous.

The teacher closed her folder.

"That's all for now. Remember: multipurpose room, after second period. Don't be late. Don't wander. And for the love of all things peaceful—"
Her eyes locked onto Cheng again.
"—don't cause chaos."

"Sensei, you wound me," Cheng whispered with theatrical pain.

The class burst into laughter.

******

Homeroom ended, and the moment the teacher stepped out, the room burst into quiet excitement.
Students fixed their uniforms, adjusted hair clips, straightened ties—trying to look presentable for a class they hadn't even met yet.

Lin Xia was already chatting about "possible group combinations."
Yiyi closed her notebook with calm precision, her expression unreadable but focused.
A faint breeze slipped in from the window beside her, lifting a strand of hair.

The whole classroom felt like it had shifted into a different rhythm.
Subtle, but noticeable.

Cheng leaned over with a grin.
"Yuan, 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, many of them subtly searching for their group partners.

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

Some students 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? Balanced. Smart. Beautiful. Perfect."

"I don't remember looks being part of the grading criteria."

"It should be."

We found our seats.
As expected, Qing and Ling were near where our class settled.
Ling noticed us and gave a small, polite nod.

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 whispered about yesterday.

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

Yiyi ignored the attention.
Her eyes drifted across the room—passing Ling, then me—before settling back on her notebook.

No obvious 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 begin the joint class project introduction. Since group placements were posted yesterday, today will focus on clarifying expectations and understanding the theme."

A ripple of whispers moved across the room.

"The theme is 'Community and Connection.' Each group will interpret it in their own way. Responsibilities start next week, but today you'll hear from the representatives and go over the project framework."

She turned toward Class 2-B.

"Class 2-B's representative—Ye Ling."

Ling stood quietly and approached the podium.
Everyone already knew she was in my group, but seeing her present still 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 briefly toward us—
first me, then Cheng, then Qing—
simple acknowledgments.

Still, whispers rose:

"That's Ling's group."
"They'll probably do well."
"Tang Yuan and Ling... interesting."

I pretended not to hear.

Across the aisle, Rui kept straightening his jacket.
Every time Ling spoke, he sneaked a glance at Yiyi, as if trying to copy her calm posture.

Xia whispered something to Yiyi.
Yiyi replied softly, her gaze drifting toward Ling's group again before returning to her notebook.

Ling finished and bowed lightly.
Qing clapped a little earlier than everyone else, smiling with quiet pride.

Our class representative took the podium next and repeated the project goals, reminding everyone of their roles. The atmosphere eased a little.

More whispers spread:

"Yiyi's group looks tough but smart."
"Xia will balance them out."
"Rui... uh..."
"Well, he'll try."
"At least Yiyi won't let him slack."

And from another corner:

"Tang Yuan's group is strong."
"Ling and Qing are reliable."
"Cheng... depends."
"Mostly depends on whether he stays quiet."

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

The teachers wrapped up with final reminders:

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

As we stood to leave, Cheng stretched with satisfaction.

"See? Our group's already popular."

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 movement and chatter.
Chairs scraped, students stretched, and small clusters formed immediately—some excited, some reluctant, some already planning ahead.

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 and stood, ignoring him. Students filed toward the door, the hallway outside already swelling with noise as both classes mixed back into the regular flow.

As we stepped out, a soft voice called:

"Ah, Tang Yuan."

I turned.

Ye Ling and Cai Qing were approaching—calm, composed, unhurried despite the growing crowd.

Ling gave a small nod.
"It seems we'll be working together soon."

Her tone wasn't overly polite or stiff.
Just natural—like she'd already settled into the idea.

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 said without hesitation.

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

She ignored him with practiced ease.

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."

A simple, practical statement.

But Qing shot her a quick sideways glance—just a hint of teasing curiosity.

I nodded.
"Sure."

Cheng leaned in, whispering loudly,
"Wow, Yuan, 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, hoping to end the moment.

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

As we walked, I spotted Yiyi and Xia ahead in the crowd.

Xia was talking cheerfully; Yiyi listened with small nods.
But for a brief moment—barely a breath—Yiyi's eyes drifted toward Ling and me before shifting away again.

No visible change in expression.
No reaction.

Yet something in her gaze lingered just long enough for Xia to notice.

Xia tilted her head and whispered something.
Yiyi simply shook her head.

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!"

"And step two?"

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

I sighed.

But as we walked back to 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 were suddenly comparing notes or talking about group plans. Students who had never cared about class activities were now leaning across aisles, asking their soon-to-be partners what they were good at.

Even our teacher looked 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," 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, passing by.

Cheng gasped. "Qing! Betrayal!"

She smirked.
"You'll survive."

Ling entered quietly behind her, greeting a few classmates from her side of the room before giving me a small, polite glance and 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 around the room made it hard to ignore the shifting 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."

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

"You are the group."

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

While I was scribbling notes, I accidentally looked up—
and met Yiyi's eyes across the room.

Only for a second.

Her gaze was cool and unreadable...
but not cold.
More like she was observing something quietly, unsure why she was even doing it.

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, moved 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's eyebrows shot up like they had a life of their own.

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

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

As she returned to her seat, I noticed 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 press her lips together slightly, as if trying not to react.

By the end of the last lesson, half the class looked exhausted and the other half already eager to start planning.

The teacher gave final reminders:

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

Everyone laughed. Because it was true.

Bags unzipped. Chairs scraped. Students flooded into the hallway.

Cheng had errands for his mom today, so for once, he didn't trail behind me.

As I walked down the hall alone, a few students from 2-B passed by, waving politely.
Qing gave a small nod.
Ling offered a gentle smile.

I was just about to turn the corner when Xia's voice echoed behind me.

"Yuan! Ah—sorry, Tang Yuan!"

I paused.

Xia jogged up, Yiyi beside her.

"Sorry," Xia said between breaths, "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—
Xia leading noisily, Yiyi following quietly.

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 steady confidence.
Cheng's relentless teasing.
Yiyi's brief glances.
Xia's unintentional meddling.
Whispers among students.
Group expectations settling into place.

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