Three days.
That's how long it had been since Shi Mu and Fu Yunshen last exchanged real words.
Three days of passing each other in hallways with faint nods.
Three days of Zhou Zhi desperately trying—and failing—to get them in the same room.
"You guys know this is ridiculous, right?" he said on day three, dramatically slamming his tray onto the cafeteria table. "It's like watching two satellites barely missing each other in orbit."
Shi Mu picked at her rice.
Fu Yunshen didn't even glance up from his drink.
Zhou Zhi let out a groan. "You're both satellites! I'm just floating in emotional space junk!"
Neither responded.
Later that night, Shi Mu sat at her desk, flipping through her system logs instead of studying.
The numbers were there:
Brotherhood Value: 2,145 / 1,000,000
Engagement Frequency: Decreased
Trust Level: Static
Warning: Emotional trajectory at risk of stagnation.
She sighed and closed the panel.
It wasn't about the numbers anymore.
It hadn't been for a while.
Across campus, Fu Yunshen lay on his bed, eyes fixed on the ceiling, phone still in his hand.
He'd typed a message three times already.
Deleted it every time.
"You left fast today."
"Are we okay?"
"I miss—"
He couldn't send any of them.
So he typed one more:
"Sleep early."
And sent it.
Shi Mu's phone buzzed.
She stared at the notification.
Read it.
Didn't reply.
The next morning, Zhou Zhi threw his hands up. "That's it. I'm staging an intervention."
"You're being dramatic," Shi Mu said flatly.
"You're being emotionally unavailable," he fired back.
She raised an eyebrow.
"I mean, at least ghost girls have the decency to scream when they're upset," he muttered.
She said nothing.
But the words lingered.
That afternoon, Shi Mu passed by the vending machines and saw Fu Yunshen standing there, hand resting on the glass.
He looked… tired.
Just for a second.
And that second stayed with her.
[System Notification]
Emotional Loop Detected: Recurring Silence Without Resolution
Brotherhood Value +30 (Passive Recognition of Shared Restraint)
Current Total: 2,175 / 1,000,000
That night, Shi Mu opened her notebook and wrote:
Some things are harder to say the longer they're left unsaid. Even if both people are still listening. Even if they still care.
And then she shut it quietly.
Like a door she didn't know how to open again.