Chapter One: Subtle Thoughts

Yuan Zhong felt she must have been terribly bored lately, and that the idle fancies about spring flowers and autumn moons were nothing but mischief born of too much free time.

Thinking it over, from her freshman to junior year, she’d completed all her required courses, accumulated every certificate she needed, and achieved every goal she’d set. No wonder her senior year now felt so empty.

Oh, and as for work—she’d heard it was hard to find a job, and had wanted to experience the process herself. But her parents had long since arranged everything. Though the positions weren’t particularly prestigious, neither were they bad: one as a non-staff member at a television station, the other a formal editorial role at a publishing house. Yuan Zhong did spend some time deliberating which to choose.

Of course, her parents preferred the television station, believing it offered more opportunities, and that they could eventually help her secure a permanent position. But Yuan Zhong chose the publishing house, claiming it was out of interest, though that wasn’t strictly true. She’d always been the obedient daughter, never even had a rebellious phase. She didn’t particularly like or dislike anything—she just felt out of place at the TV station. The thought of being in the public eye terrified her, so she ruled it out.

“You’re being narrow-minded. The TV station has plenty of behind-the-scenes work,” her roommate Zhang Cheng said. “In the long run, it’s definitely the better choice.”

“Oh, really? Maybe. But I’ve already made my decision.” Of course she knew, but something just felt off. Still, knowing Zhang Cheng meant well, Yuan Zhong played dumb.

“Then just change it,” Zhang Cheng suggested.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea. I’ve already spoken to them—I’d feel bad to trouble them again.” Yuan Zhong shook her head.

“It doesn’t matter. Our dear Yuan is obviously the gentle, nurturing type, not that you’d understand,” said her roommate Feng Duoduo, leisurely picking out a lipstick shade.

Yuan Zhong looked at Feng Duoduo, smiled quietly, and thought to herself how fitting the word “enchantress” was.

In any case, her job situation was settled in a muddled sort of way.

Anyway, the result was that since the start of senior year, Yuan Zhong found herself bored. Boredom wasn’t frightening in itself, but it tended to breed trouble.

After some thought, she decided she needed to find something to do. With a class scheduled in the morning, she got up early, washed up, grabbed her bag, and began packing her books.

“Where are you off to?” Zhang Cheng asked, also getting up.

“Class,” Yuan Zhong replied.

“Haven’t you already got all the credits for that course?” Zhang Cheng was puzzled.

“It’s interesting. I want to listen again.”

“You can’t be serious!” Feng Duoduo couldn’t take it. “You call that interesting?”

Yuan Zhong just smiled. “Duoduo, I’ll buy you breakfast. You can come straight to class later.” For Duoduo, makeup always came first, so breakfast would have to wait until class.

“You’re the best!” Duoduo hugged her tightly.

Lin Hui, who was still in bed, hadn’t stirred—probably up late gaming last night. A cool, aloof girl, Lin Hui’s only interests were studying and gaming. After her guaranteed admission to grad school, her gaming hours had increased noticeably.

Zhang Cheng moved quickly, heading out with Yuan Zhong.

“Let’s go to the canteen on the far east side,” Yuan Zhong suggested. “I’m craving their cherry blossom cakes.”

Zhang Cheng yawned, checked the time, nodded indifferently, and didn’t notice Yuan Zhong’s ears reddening from her little white lie.

The canteen was busy with the morning rush. Yuan Zhong glanced around, following the queue as it crept forward.

“Student, student! What do you want?” the auntie at the counter called loudly.

“Oh—um, two soy milks…” Yuan Zhong blurted out in a fluster and hurried to the side, afraid of blocking the line.

Zhang Cheng followed her, found a seat, and was just about to settle in when a girl approached.

“Excuse me, there are three of us. Could you let us have this table?” the girl asked Yuan Zhong.

“Oh, sure,” Yuan Zhong began to pick up her tray.

“No way!” Zhang Cheng slammed her tray down. “First come, first served—don’t you know that?”

Yuan Zhong felt awkward and glanced at the girl.

“There are plenty of tables with two empty seats,” the girl grumbled.

“Exactly, so we’re not in the wrong. There are two seats left—take them if you want.” Zhang Cheng rolled her eyes.

Seeing Zhang Cheng had already sat down, the girl turned to Yuan Zhong. “Why don’t you find another seat?”

“No!” Before Yuan Zhong could reply, Zhang Cheng glared at her to sit, whispering, “Ignore them. Let’s just eat.”

Yuan Zhong, apologetic, had no choice but to sit. Caught between firmness and softness, it was awkward to handle. The dissatisfied girl muttered as she left. Zhang Cheng took a bite of her bun and snorted.

“It really doesn’t matter. Any seat is the same,” Yuan Zhong smiled. “Don’t let it ruin your meal.”

“Just looking at her face is enough to fill me up—I’m not wasting food, though,” Zhang Cheng replied.

“I just thought, since she asked, it’s not a big deal.”

Zhang Cheng glanced at her and sighed, “You’re way too nice. Haven’t you noticed how many people cut in front of you at lunch with some ridiculous excuse during the peak period?”

“Maybe they’re just really hungry.”

“Hmph! Like anyone’s starving to death here.”

Yuan Zhong just chuckled, not arguing further. Zhang Cheng was tough but kind at heart.

A slight commotion by the entrance drew Yuan Zhong’s attention. She looked up to see three tall, handsome boys walk in—no wonder they attracted glances.

She couldn’t help but stare for quite a while.

Zhang Cheng noticed and, following Yuan Zhong’s gaze, turned to look as well. “Hey, isn’t that the heartthrob from the neighboring college? What’s he doing here?”

“Our science faculties have been cooperating on some events lately. He’s been coming over pretty often—it’ll go on till the end of the month,” Yuan Zhong answered.

Zhang Cheng blinked. “How do you know that?”

“What? You haven’t seen the posts on the campus forum? Everyone’s talking about it. I thought you knew,” Yuan Zhong hastily explained. She certainly couldn’t admit she’d been tracking his schedule, and had deliberately chosen this canteen today.

Zhang Cheng just nodded, saying no more. Yuan Zhong secretly breathed a sigh of relief, thinking, If it had been Duoduo, I’d have been found out for sure. How embarrassing.

She noticed girls were bringing breakfast to the heartthrob, but he turned them down—high and cold, apparently. They ate quickly, and on the way to the lecture hall, Yuan Zhong followed from a distance, feeling a little blue and absent-minded all through class.

Feng Duoduo made her usual striking entrance in high heels, drawing whistles from the classroom crowd—no peace until the teacher arrived.

Zhang Cheng waved her over, and Duoduo walked over gracefully, sitting beside Yuan Zhong. “Where’s my breakfast?”

“Here.” Yuan Zhong quickly handed it over.

“Thanks. Wait—cherry blossom cake? I don’t want this.” Duoduo picked it up delicately with two fingers and returned it.

Zhang Cheng turned to look, then asked Yuan Zhong, “You went out of your way for this, didn’t you? Didn’t you have any?”

“Huh? Oh—I’m already full. I’ll eat it later.” Yuan Zhong stumbled. She’d planned to use it as an excuse, but after buying it, forgot to eat it herself. That’s the trouble with lying—one misstep and you’re caught.

Duoduo blinked her big eyes. “Something’s different about you today.”

“You probably changed your perfume,” Yuan Zhong deflected. “I liked the last one better.”

“Really? I think this one’s too strong too,” Duoduo admitted.

“That’s because you used too much,” Zhang Cheng said, rubbing her nose and shifting away.

Class began. Before long, Zhang Cheng took out a pack of dried plums, popping one in for a jolt of energy. Duoduo touched up her makeup in the compact, fighting off sleepiness. Both noticed Yuan Zhong was staring at the blackboard, apparently engrossed in the lecture.

Duoduo, puzzled, leaned over to glance at Yuan Zhong’s notebook—aside from the date, it was spotless.

Duoduo whipped out her phone and started messaging Zhang Cheng:

Duoduo: Hey, what did you two do this morning?

Zhang Cheng: Had breakfast.

Duoduo: Anything interesting happen?

Zhang Cheng: Some girl tried to take our seats, but with me there? Not a chance.

Duoduo: I believe that. Anything else?

Zhang Cheng: Nope, just breakfast.

Duoduo: Then what’s with Yuan Zhong looking all distracted? What’s going on?

Zhang Cheng: Regretting her career choice, maybe?

Duoduo: She’s not you! No way.

Zhang Cheng: Then what? Don’t tell me she’s into that heartthrob from next door?

Duoduo: What? I missed something?

Zhang Cheng: Relax, we just ran into him at breakfast. I’m mostly joking—it’s not possible.

Duoduo glanced at Yuan Zhong, then replied: Now that you mention it, she really does look lovesick.

Zhang Cheng: Like what?

Duoduo: Like someone pining away, lost in thought.

Zhang Cheng: She’s not you!

On Friday, as usual, Yuan Zhong would go home for the weekend—a perk of attending university in her hometown. But this time, when class ended, she made no move to leave.

Duoduo raised an eyebrow. “Got a date this weekend?”

“No, no,” Yuan Zhong waved her hands. “I just thought, with graduation coming, I should spend more time on campus, cherish these days.”

“Good point. Want to try something different, then?” Duoduo asked.

“What do you mean, something different?” Yuan Zhong played dumb.

“You’re not going to spend your evening in a study hall, are you?” Duoduo eyed her skeptically.

“I’m going to watch the science faculty’s mixer match,” Yuan Zhong answered. “I never really paid attention to these things before. Soon there’ll be no more chances—might as well go.”

Duoduo smiled, raised a finger to her lips, and said, “You don’t need to explain so much.”

Zhang Cheng leaned in. “I’ll go with you.”

“I want to experience it, too,” Duoduo chimed in.

“What? You’re all coming?” Yuan Zhong was surprised. “Duoduo, don’t you have a date? Zhang Cheng, aren’t you supposed to be studying?”

“I’ll come too. Too much gaming lately—my hands need a break,” Lin Hui joined in.

Yuan Zhong felt a little uneasy.

Of course, she couldn’t stop them. So the whole dorm was going—a rare sight.

Walking together, Yuan Zhong felt exposed, but then decided four was better—not as conspicuous. She even found other advantages: with Zhang Cheng and Lin Hui’s presence, both naturally commanding, they might even snag good seats.

The lecture hall was already crowded. Zhang Cheng scanned the room, hand above her brow, plotting how to find four seats together; Lin Hui’s cool demeanor quieted the nearby crowd; Duoduo’s few steps forward brought the noise back up.

“How about over there?” Yuan Zhong pointed to a corner.

Zhang Cheng shook her head. “Bad view.”

“I just want to hear clearly,” Yuan Zhong said, not demanding much.

“That won’t do,” Duoduo rolled her eyes. “Come on, let’s sit up front—first row, best view.”

“There’s no way there are seats left,” Yuan Zhong sighed. If only they hadn’t all insisted on coming along, and spent so much time getting ready, she could have claimed the front row herself.

Duoduo ignored her, gestured for patience, and headed forward. Miraculously, after a brief exchange, a group of boys squeezed together, freeing up four seats.

Yuan Zhong sighed. How could she forget the goddess-like power of Duoduo?