[Between Classes, Business School Building 3, 11:07 AM]
Lin Feng pulled out his phone as they walked out of the classroom together.
Earlier that day, he had promised Lin Weiwei, his step-sister, to have lunch with her, back before everything else happened.
Before Xiao Yue. Before holding her hand in public. Before the campus gossip machine went into overdrive.
But plans changed. Priorities shifted.
Xiao Yue walked beside him, her fingers still intertwined with his like she was afraid he might disappear if she let go. Her oversized black hoodie swallowed her frame, the hood pulled up to cast shadows across her face. Large round glasses obscured most of her features, and her ankle-length dark skirt hid her legs completely.
She looked plain. Unremarkable. Like someone who was actively trying to disappear into the background.
Nobody could see the goddess level beauty hiding underneath all those layers.
Lin Feng typed quickly with his free hand.
[Lin Feng: Weiwei, something important came up. Can we do dinner instead?]
Sent. 11:08 AM.
Her response came immediately. Fast. Too fast. Three messages in rapid succession, each one sharper than the last.
[Lin Weiwei: But you promised me lunch!]
[Lin Weiwei: You said you'd see me at lunch!]
[Lin Weiwei: I mean its fine big brother. Yes. Yes. Of course.]
Lin Feng could read right through that forced acceptance. "Yes. Yes. Of course." Three words that screamed the opposite.
Lin Weiwei didn't handle disappointment well when it came to him, and five years of loving him obsessively meant every broken promise cut deep—even when she pretended otherwise.
[Lin Feng: I'm sorry for the change of plans Weiwei. I'll make it up to you. I promise.]
Sent. 11:09 AM.
[Lin Weiwei: How?]
Her reply was just one word. Cold and demanding.
Lin Feng thought carefully before responding. This needed to be strategic. It needed to be something she couldn't refuse.
[Lin Feng: Dinner at 6 PM. Then we'll go to the movies. Just the two of us. How about it?]
Sent. 11:10 AM.
He didn't call it a date. He didn't have to. Dinner, then a movie, just the two of them—Weiwei would read those words and her heart would stop.
That wasn't just a normal brother-sister outing. That was couple territory, and she would know it.
The typing indicator appeared immediately on his screen.
Then it stopped.
Started again.
Stopped.
Started.
Stopped.
Thirty seconds passed. Forty. Fifty.
His phone showed "typing..." then nothing. Over and over. Like she was writing and deleting entire paragraphs, unable to find the right words.
Lin Feng could practically see her right now. Sitting in some chair somewhere, perhaps in the computer lab, staring at those words. "Just the two of us." Dissecting every syllable. Every implication.
Her cold exterior would be cracking right now. Not visibly, not to most people—but the cracks would be there. Anyone who knew her well enough would sense that something had changed.
Finally, after more than a minute of silence:
[Lin Weiwei: ...okay.]
[Lin Weiwei: I'll be waiting.]
[Lin Weiwei: Don't be late.]
Nice try, Weiwei. But you took over a minute to respond.
He could picture it perfectly. Her staring at the screen. Reading "just the two of us" over and over. Fingers hovering over the keyboard while her brain short-circuited.
You froze, didn't you Weiwei? I know you did.
He stared at her last message for a moment longer than necessary.
She deserves better than this.
Lin Feng stared at the screen for a moment longer. Three little messages. Carefully casual. Painfully hopeful.
In the original novel, you loved him for over a decade, Weiwei. And when he died, you didn't even last an hour. "Wait for me in the next life"—that's all you said before following him.
A seven-star heroine. One of only two among three thousand women. You chose death over a world without him.
And here I am, cancelling lunch on you.
The guilt sat heavy in his chest. But he pushed it aside.
No. It is precisely because Weiwei lives with me that I have to do this. We just had breakfast this morning. She can wait a few more hours.
Meanwhile, Xiao Yue has been waiting five years.
He pocketed his phone.
The hallway was emptying out as students filtered toward the cafeteria and coffee shops. Sunlight slanted through the tall windows, catching dust motes in the air. Somewhere behind them, a group of girls whispered and pointed.
Xiao Yue walked beside him, her fingers still wrapped around his sleeve. She hadn't let go since they left the classroom.
"Who were you texting?"
Her voice was light, but Lin Feng caught the edge beneath it. Sharp. Watchful. The tone of someone who had spent five years tracking his every interaction.
"My sister," he said calmly. "I just told her that I need to reschedule my lunch with her later."
The tension drained from her shoulders immediately. Her grip on his sleeve loosened, and something in her posture softened.
"Oh." She nodded slowly. "Just your sister."
Innocent. Relieved. Like she had been worried about nothing.
But Lin Feng saw the flicker before she hid it. The brief hardness in her eyes. The way her jaw tightened for just a fraction of a second beneath the shadow of her hood.
You know exactly who Lin Weiwei is, don't you?
Five years of watching him meant five years of watching everyone around him. There was no way Xiao Yue had missed the signs—the cold goddess sister who woke before dawn to cook his breakfast, who lived just down the hall, who had access to him every hour of every day.
Stalkers recognizing their own kind.
He watched her process the information. The fake relief. The hidden calculation. The slow realization spreading beneath her carefully neutral expression.
She understood what "my sister" really meant. She knew Weiwei wasn't just family—she was competition. The most dangerous kind of competition.
And he had just cancelled on her.
Her grip shifted on his hand. Tighter now, but different. Less desperate. More assured.
"You cancelled on your sister for me." Her voice was soft, but something triumphant lurked underneath. "For me."
"I did."
She didn't smile.
To most people, family wasn't competition. Family was supposed to be safe.
But Xiao Yue knew better. And from the quiet triumph bleeding through her voice, she understood exactly what this meant.
-------------------
[Walking Across Campus, 11:12 AM]
They stepped out of the Business School building and into the September morning.
The main campus pathway stretched ahead of them, wide and tree-lined. European oaks cast dappled shadows across the cobblestone, their leaves just starting to hint at autumn gold. A warm breeze carried the smell of fresh-cut grass from the central lawn, mixing with coffee and expensive perfume from the students passing by.
Qinghua University didn't look like a school. It looked like money given physical form—imported stone benches, antique-style lamp posts, a fountain in the distance that probably cost more than most people's houses.
Students filled the pathway between classes. Designer bags. Brand-name clothes. Airpods and iced lattes. Everyone moving with that casual confidence that came from never worrying about tuition.
All of them stopped mid-stride when Lin Feng passed.
Not because of him alone. The second young master of the Lin Family was always noteworthy, always watched.
But this was different.
Lin Feng. With a girl. A girl nobody recognized. A girl dressed like she had given up on her appearance entirely.
Walking hand in hand. In broad daylight. In the middle of campus.
The whispers started the moment they stepped onto the main path.
"Is that really Lin Feng?" A freshman near the fountain froze, matcha latte halfway to her lips.
"Who's the girl with him?" Her friend leaned forward, squinting hard. "I can't even see her face."
The questions rippled outward like stones dropped in still water. Heads turning. Conversations dying. A group of seniors abandoned their discussion entirely to watch.
"Wait—where's Su Qingxue?"
"Did something happen?"
"She looks so... plain?"
Lin Feng kept walking. Steady pace. Unhurried. He could feel the weight of their stares pressing against his back.
Great… Even the melon-eating crowd is here.
The mockery came next. As inevitable as sunrise.
"Couldn't get the campus belle, so he found someone in his league." A guy in an expensive polo laughed openly, not bothering to lower his voice.
"From campus belle to that." The girl beside him shook her head, gold hoops swinging. "The fall is real."
"At least this one won't reject him, right?" Snickering from a nearby bench.
Phones appeared everywhere. Held high. Pointed directly at them. Not even pretending to be subtle.
A girl perched on the fountain's edge was already livestreaming, voice breathless with excitement. "—he's literally holding her hand right now, in public, I'm not even joking—"
Lin Feng heard every whisper. Every snicker. Every camera shutter click.
Let them cook. Fry this up and serve it across every WeChat group on campus.
By noon, Su Qingxue will be choking on it.
The script was being rewritten in real-time. Every phone pointed at them was a witness. Every whisper was another line of gossip spreading across campus.
Xiao Yue heard all of it. Of course she did. Five years of watching from the shadows had sharpened her senses to a razor's edge.
But she didn't react. Her pace never faltered. Her expression stayed hidden beneath that hood. The only sign she'd registered anything at all was the slight tightening of her fingers around his sleeve—anchoring herself to him.
They walked past the fountain. Water splashed against stone. A girl nearby was still livestreaming, her voice a breathless murmur. Somewhere behind them, a camera shutter clicked.
Lin Feng glanced down at her. "Does this bother you? Everyone staring and talking?"
"No."
"They're being harsh."
"I know." Her voice stayed flat. Unbothered. "I can hear them."
A breeze picked up, stirring loose strands of black hair that had escaped her hood.
"I've heard worse for five years," she continued. "They called me the ghost girl. The weirdo. The stalker." A pause. "The creep."
Her fingers curled tighter around his arm.
"They're probably right about most of it."
Lin Feng raised an eyebrow.
"But I still got what I wanted in the end."
The hood tilted up slightly, and he caught a glimpse of her profile beneath the shadow, revealing her pale skin and a faint curve of a smile.
"Five years of being invisible. Five years of being mocked. Five years of being the joke nobody even bothered to laugh at to my face."
Her grip on his arm shifted. Not tighter—only getting more certain.
"And now I'm walking hand in hand with you. In front of everyone."
The smile grew.
"While Su Qingxue sits somewhere checking her phone, wondering why you haven't replied."
Her voice didn't waver. It didn't crack at all.
She had complete indifference to public opinion—not performed, not forced. Just genuine disregard for what anyone else thought.
Lin Feng felt something shift in his chest. Not pity. Not sympathy.
Respect.
That's the difference.
Su Qingxue's entire life was performance. Every smile calculated. Every interaction designed to maintain her image. Public perception wasn't just important to her—it was everything. She would never tolerate being mocked publicly.
And she would never endure harsh judgment for someone she claimed to care about.
But Xiao Yue had spent five years as the class weirdo. She had emerged as being completely indifferent to judgment.
Seven-star difficulty was never about being hard to conquer. It was about being too high-quality to care about surface bullshit.
That's why she's worth three thousand five hundred Su Qingxues.
And that idiot ignored her for five years.
He squeezed her hand gently.
I would never repeat the mistakes the old Lin Feng made.
"Come on," he said. "I know a place."
-------------------
[Central Plaza Restaurant, 11:25 AM]
Central Plaza was the upscale campus spot, with floor-to-ceiling glass walls showcasing the interior to everyone passing by. Modern aesthetic. Expensive menu. The kind of place students went when they wanted to impress someone.
Lin Feng pulled open the door, and conversations inside paused mid-sentence. Heads turned in unison. More staring. More judging.
Central Plaza's interior was all glass and polished marble. The midday light poured through the floor-to-ceiling windows, glinting off silverware and crystal water glasses. The air smelled like fresh bread and expensive coffee. Soft jazz played from hidden speakers—the kind of background music that whispered money.
Lin Feng walked to the host stand without hesitation.
"Corner booth, please. Somewhere more private."
The host—a young man in a pressed black shirt—looked up, and recognition flickered across his face immediately. The Lin Family's second young master. His posture straightened.
"Right this way, sir."
They followed him through the restaurant. Conversations died as they passed, table by table, like a wave of silence rolling through the room. Then erupted into whispers the moment they moved on.
"She's wearing a hoodie to Central Plaza?" A girl in pearls didn't bother lowering her voice.
"This place is expensive. Is he paying?" Her companion's eyes tracked them with open calculation.
"Of course he's paying. He's that Lin Feng after all." A guy at the next table didn't bother lowering his voice.
"Yeah, but—" His friend gestured vaguely toward Xiao Yue. "Why her?"
"Who knows. Maybe she was cheap."
Laughter erupted. Cruel. Mocking.
Lin Feng didn't acknowledge any of it. Neither did Xiao Yue. They settled into the corner booth like the rest of the restaurant had ceased to exist.
The leather seats were cool against his back. Private enough for conversation, but visible through the glass walls to anyone passing by on the pathway outside.
Perfect.
Let the entire campus watch. Let Su Qingxue hear about this from a dozen different sources. Let the gossip spread until there's no possible way to deny what's happening.
The old Lin Feng had spent four years being invisible to Su Qingxue while being painfully visible to everyone else as her pathetic bootlicker.
Today, he would be visible on his own terms.
-------------------
[Central Plaza Restaurant, Corner Booth, 11:32 AM]
The whispers from nearby tables had given up on being quiet.
Lin Feng ignored them. He picked up the menu, scanned it for exactly two seconds, then set it back down and signaled the waiter.
"Green tea for the lady. Braised fish with light sauce. Steamed vegetables. Clear soup. Jasmine rice."
The waiter scribbled quickly and retreated.
Across the table, Xiao Yue's head tilted slightly beneath her hood. He could feel her gaze sharpening behind those oversized glasses.
"How did you know I like these?"
Lin Feng leaned back against the leather seat. "You think you're the only one who's been watching?"
Silence.
Her hands, resting on the table, went very still.
"I've had my eye on you too."
A lie.
Every detail I know about her came from words on a screen. Her habits. Her preferences. Her obsessive devotion to a man who never deserved it.
And that man is gone now. The original Lin Feng—the one she fell in love with, the one she watched for five years, the one she would have followed into death—he doesn't exist anymore.
I replaced him.
She's looking at me like I'm him. Like this is fate. Like her patience finally paid off.
But I'm not him. I'll never be him.
And I can never tell her that.
Xiao Yue's entire body went rigid. Her hands pressed flat against the table.
"You were watching me too?"
Lin Feng met her hidden gaze and smiled.
"Every day."
Lin Feng lied through his teeth.
The table next to them went dead silent. Then someone whispered, too loud: "Did he just admit to stalking her back?"
"So they were BOTH watching each other?"
"That's... actually kind of romantic?"
Lin Feng ignored the commentary. He kept his eyes on Xiao Yue.
"You always sit in the back corner. Same seat every class for five years."
Her breathing changed. Faster now.
"Black coffee at the Starlight Café. Every morning at 6:45 AM." He paused. "The corner booth with the perfect sightline to my front gate."
Her hands trembled against the white tablecloth.
"You take notes in black ink. Always. Never blue—even when black pens run out, you'll borrow another one rather than switch colors."
The restaurant had gone quiet around them. Not just their section—the entire room seemed to be holding its breath.
"You skip breakfast most days." His voice softened. "That's why I made you some this morning."
Xiao Yue sat frozen. He watched the emotions flicker across what little of her face he could see—shock, confusion, something that might have been hope fighting its way to the surface.
Five years of believing she was invisible. Five years of watching from shadows, convinced no one saw her back.
And now this.
"You noticed all that?" Her voice came out barely above a whisper.
"I noticed all of it."
He let that sit for a moment. Then added, quieter:
"I was stupid. Chasing that vixen for years while you were right there the whole time."
The words hung in the air between them. Somewhere in the restaurant, a glass clinked against a plate. The jazz music played on, soft and oblivious.
Xiao Yue was quiet for a long moment. Processing. Then she leaned forward slightly, hands still trembling against the tablecloth.
"Why now?" Her voice was careful. Fragile. "Why today?"
That was the real question. The one underneath all the others.
Sunlight shifted through the window, casting patterns across the tablecloth between them. The jazz music continued to play on.
"Because I woke up."
He held her gaze—or where he imagined it was, behind those oversized glasses.
"I was wasting time on someone who didn't care. While ignoring someone who did."
True enough. Just not the whole truth.
I'm sorry Xiao Yue, but I can only tell you this much.
Somewhere nearby, a girl murmured to her friend: "Wait, is there actual depth here?"
"He's being really sincere..."
"Okay, this is actually getting interesting."
-------------------
Xiao Yue didn't confess. She didn't even get emotional. Instead, when she spoke again, her voice carried quiet confidence.
"I probably know your schedule better than you do." She tilted her head slightly. "Which professors you like. Which classmates get on your nerves. What you actually want to eat versus what you order when you're distracted."
She reached into her bag and pulled out a black notebook. Unmarked. Anonymous.
"Five years. Everything's in here."
Lin Feng's eyebrows rose. "Can I see?"
She hesitated. Then opened it.
Page after page of tiny, precise handwriting. Dates. Times. Observations. Patterns. Charts. Graphs. Cross-references.
The word obsessive didn't begin to cover it.
He flipped through slowly, reading entries at random.
May 10th – Day 1. I found him. I finally found him. Four months of searching and I found him. He's a student at Jiangcheng No. 1 Middle School. Same age as me. His name is Lin Feng. Lin Feng. I've written it thirty-seven times already. The boy who gave me bread when I was dying. The boy who gave me water when I couldn't stand. The boy who gave me 200 yuan and told me to "stay alive." I'm alive. I'm alive because of him. And now I know his name.
January 15th – Day 250. New girl. Su Qingxue. Pretty. Popular. He's started following her around like a lost puppy. Today he offered to carry her books and she barely looked at him. He still smiled. He's wasting that smile on someone who doesn't even see it. I see it. I've always seen it.
February 14th – Day 1,376. Valentine's Day. He started cooking at midnight. I watched through the window until 3 AM. Chocolate truffles, wrapped by hand, three attempts before he got the ribbon right. She took them without looking up from her phone. One hand. She didn't even say thank you properly. He gave me bread when I was nobody. He gave me everything. And he gives her his whole heart and she treats it like garbage. I hate her. I hate her so much it scares me.
Years of meticulous documentation. Every detail a record of her obsession over him.
Lin Feng stared at the first entry for a long moment.
The bread. The water. The 200 yuan.
She remembered all of it. She even built her entire life around it.
And the original Lin Feng didn't even remember her face.
"This is..." He looked up at her. No judgment in his expression. "You're really good at this. Like, genuinely impressive."
"I notice things." Her voice stayed level, but there was a hint of pride underneath. "It's kind of my thing."
She was positioning herself. Claiming this skill as her value.
Then, the melon-eating crowd nearby erupted.
"Did she just pull out a stalker notebook?" A guy's voice cracked with disbelief.
"That's... actually kind of impressive?" Someone sounded reluctantly admiring.
"Five YEARS of notes?" A girl leaned so far forward she nearly fell out of her chair.
Then Xiao Yue asked directly. No buildup. No softening.
"So. Are you just using me to make Su Qingxue jealous? Because if you are—" She paused. "Actually, I don't know why I'm asking. It doesn't matter."
Lin Feng tilted his head. "It doesn't?"
"No."
No hesitation. Instant. Certain.
"This is the closest I've been to you in five years." Her voice didn't waver, but something raw crept into it. "If this is just a game to you, fine. I'll take it. I'll take whatever I can get."
"I don't care how this started." She leaned forward slightly. "Just... give me a chance. I'll prove I'm worth keeping around."
Every opening was an opening. All was fair in love and war.
Something about the way she said it made him pause.
This one doesn't play games. She plays to win.
"I'm not using you." He closed the notebook and slid it back toward her. "And you don't have to prove anything."
"But I want to." She traced a finger along the edge of her notebook. "And honestly? After watching you lie to yourself about Su Qingxue for four years... I think you could use someone who's willing to call you on your bullshit."
The ambient noise around them had shifted. Less mocking. More curious.
"Hold on." A guy two tables over set down his drink. "She's actually making sense."
"That was a solid answer." His companion nodded slowly.
"What if he actually knows what he's doing?"
-------------------
The tension eased after that. They talked about other things—classes, professors, which TAs were useless, which ones actually graded fairly. She mentioned her interest in electronics, just in passing, nothing detailed. He talked about his business courses. They discovered a mutual hatred for a guy in their economics lecture who always asked questions right before class ended.
The conversation flowed easier than Lin Feng expected. Two people who spent too much time observing others, finally observing each other.
"You were thirteen minutes late this morning," Xiao Yue said, almost casually.
Lin Feng raised an eyebrow.
"You always leave at exactly 7:15. Five years, never more than two minutes off schedule." She picked up her tea, took a sip. "Today it was 7:28. Something happened."
"Breakfast ran long." He shrugged. "My sister was in a good mood."
Xiao Yue's fingers tightened almost imperceptibly on her cup.
"Your sister." Flat. Neutral. "The one you cancelled lunch on. For me."
"That's the one."
She set the cup down slowly. "Must have been some breakfast."
The whispers around them had shifted. Warmer now. Curious instead of mocking.
"They actually have decent chemistry." A girl sounded surprised by her own words.
"They're talking like equals." Someone else observed.
"Wait, is this actually working?"
-------------------
[11:45 AM]
The food arrived a few minutes later.
Steam rose from the braised fish as the waiter set it down, the sauce glistening under the warm pendant lights. Steamed vegetables followed, then clear soup, then a pot of jasmine rice. He arranged everything with practiced precision and retreated without a word.
The smell drifted to the nearby tables. Several students glanced over, momentarily distracted from their gossip.
Lin Feng picked up his chopsticks.
Without asking, without hesitating, he started serving Xiao Yue. Choice pieces of fish, deboned and placed carefully in her bowl. The tenderest vegetables, selected one by one. He adjusted her napkin absently, smoothing out a crease.
It was natural. Automatic. Like breathing.
Four years of doing this for Su Qingxue. Four years of service. Not once did she return the gesture. Not once.
Xiao Yue watched him for a moment. Then picked up her own chopsticks.
Then, she placed vegetables into his bowl. Soup ladled with care—not too much, not too little. A piece of fish selected after brief deliberation, placed precisely where he could reach it easily.
She didn't say anything. Neither did he.
They didn't need to.
At the next table, a girl had stopped mid-bite. Her chopsticks hovered in the air, forgotten. Her friend followed her gaze. Then the guy beside them. Then the table behind.
"Wait." Someone set down their drink. "Are they... serving each other?"
"This isn't first date energy." His companion's chopsticks hung frozen in mid-air. "This is like... five years married energy."
"ESTABLISHED couple energy." A girl nodded vigorously. "My parents do this. My PARENTS."
The whispers built. Layered on top of each other. Spreading through the restaurant like ripples.
Then it happened.
Xiao Yue lifted her spoon to drink the soup. When she set it down, there was sauce on her cheek—just a small smear, barely visible below the shadow of her hood.
Lin Feng reached across the table.
Without a single shred of hesitation. No thought at all. His thumb brushed across her skin, wiping the sauce away. Gentle. Casual. His hand lingered for half a second longer than necessary before pulling back.
Xiao Yue froze.
One second. Two.
Then she picked up her chopsticks and continued eating. Expression unchanged. Movements steady. As if nothing had happened at all.
But her ears, just visible beneath the edge of her hood, had turned pink.
The restaurant lost its mind.
A girl at the next table dropped her chopsticks. They clattered against her plate, bounced, and hit the floor. She didn't pick them up. Just stared.
"DID HE JUST—"
"BRO." A guy's voice cracked on the single syllable. "WHAT."
"This is DAY ONE?!" Someone stood up so fast their chair scraped against the marble floor. "DAY. ONE."
Phones materialized from every direction. Not subtle photos anymore—full video recording, multiple angles, everyone desperate to capture what they were witnessing.
The jazz music played on overhead, completely at odds with the chaos below.
"This man is SPEEDRUNNING the relationship!"
"From bootlicker to smooth operator in twenty-four hours!"
"Yesterday: pathetic simp. Today: confident gentleman. Character development COMPLETE."
"The glow-up is INSANE!" A girl's voice cut through the noise.
"Maybe she IS special." The mockery had faded from that question now. Replaced by something almost like curiosity. "Maybe there's something we're not seeing."
"There's gotta be something under that hood." Multiple students squinted, craning their necks, trying to pierce through shadows and oversized glasses.
"What if she's hiding FROM someone?" That theory spread like wildfire, jumping from table to table.
Lin Feng reached for the tea at the same moment Xiao Yue did.
Their fingers brushed against the porcelain handle.
Neither pulled away.
Her hand stayed there, resting against his. Light. Tentative. Then her fingers shifted—sliding over his knuckles, settling into the spaces between.
Deliberate.
"They're holding hands." A guy said it like he was narrating a nature documentary. "They're literally holding hands right now."
"This escalated so fast I think I have whiplash."
Lin Feng and Xiao Yue didn't react.
The sunlight slanted through the floor-to-ceiling windows, catching the steam still rising from their food. The jazz continued its soft, oblivious melody. Around them, phones recorded and whispers swirled and theories multiplied.
None of it mattered.
They were in their own world now. Testing boundaries. Finding rhythm. Two people who had spent years watching, finally learning what it felt like to be seen.
Hands intertwined across the table. Voices low. Small smiles exchanged between bites. Everyone else had faded into background noise.
They didn't notice the door opening.
Didn't notice the sudden shift in energy. The way conversations died mid-sentence. The way every head turned toward the entrance in perfect synchronization.
But the crowd noticed.
"Is that—" A girl's chopsticks froze.
"Oh my god, it's her."
"Does Lin Feng see her?"
"He has NO idea."
"Where are my melons?" Multiple phones came out simultaneously.
Two figures walked through the restaurant. Students parted to let them through.
Ten feet away. Eight. Six.
Lin Feng was laughing at something Xiao Yue said. Genuine. Unguarded.
A voice cut through the space. Clear. Cold. Perfectly controlled.
"Lin Feng!"