"Really? Then go ahead and tell me."
"Military training starts this Friday. Didn't you hear?"
Tang Li set down two cups of juice and three dishes, then sat across from Ji Yu with his usual easy smile. For some reason, it made her feel uneasy.
"Friday, huh… no wonder Mo Yachen called me four or five times yesterday."
"And where did he get your number from?"
"Best answer: I don't know."
Ji Yu bit down on her straw, leaving a neat little tooth mark. She looked carefree, but to Tang Li, that carefree attitude was almost irritating.
"You should stay away from him. That guy's intentions aren't exactly pure."
"Hm? And what intentions could he possibly have?"
"He might be trying to chase you."
A slice of lemon got stuck in Ji Yu's straw, refusing to go either up or down. The fan overhead scattered her hair, carrying the faint scent of gardenia over to Tang Li.
Her expression shifted—from confusion, to shock, and finally to disdain.
"That guy? A rich young master from a powerful family suddenly falling for me? Please. Just a few days ago I was still… well, you know. Do you seriously think that's possible?"
She flicked her hair back. The scent lingered, but then the waiter brought out all three dishes. Ji Yu's lips twitched into the faintest grimace—something Tang Li didn't miss.
He only chuckled to himself, then started placing food on her plate with a kind of attentiveness that looked suspiciously like a lover's gesture.
And Ji Yu, half-reluctant, half-indulgent, simply got used to it—without stopping to consider that maybe this was more than just friendship.
"Time's running. You should head to the student council office."
"Huh? What about the bill—"
"You expect a girl to pay when you're eating with her? Am I supposed to have no shame?"
"…Fine, fine. You're a good bro. Guess I'll just freeload off you every day."
The door to the office swung open before Ji Yu could even knock.
A tall girl with stylish clothes and heavy eye makeup stood there, looking tired.
"You are…?"
"Hello, Senior Yang. I'm Ji Yu, freshman in Broadcasting. I just joined the Student Council's Office Department."
Her smile was polite, practiced, and just right. The vice president didn't press further. But what did catch her off guard was—
"Ji Yu, you're actually not late today. Keep it up."
The voice came from behind, gentle yet unmistakable.
Keep it up?
Keep up with what? In the middle of the day, in this office—what else could she mean?
Yang's eyes flickered with jealousy, curiosity, and disdain as Ji Yu walked past, toward the boy at the window.
Mo Yachen turned. His eyes flickered with doubt, surprise, fear, even a trace of joy—and then tangled them all together as he looked at her.
"Uh… Ji Yu, you do know military training starts this Friday, right?"
Ji Yu sighed and nodded.
"Yeah, a friend already told me. Since I wasn't at yesterday's meeting, that's why you called so many times, right?"
Mo Yachen narrowed his eyes slightly, suspicion clouding them. Ji Yu had no idea what he was doubting. Calm as ever, she asked,
"So, President Mo, is there a meeting today? Or any work I need to do?"
He rubbed his temples, thought for a moment, then said,
"No. I just wanted to tell you that military training begins Friday. And as a member of the Student Council, you're absolutely not allowed to take leave. That's all."
His tone cooled, back to its usual indifference. Whatever interrogation he'd planned evaporated the moment he saw her.
He turned again toward the window. The scorching midday sun gleamed off his black boots.
Ji Yu found him utterly insufferable. Dragging her in here at noon for nothing, wasting her time, then ignoring her to stare at the window again? What a joke.
Annoyance rising, she didn't bother with farewells. With heavy steps, she stormed out, slamming the door hard enough to make him flinch back to reality.
His face twisted into confusion and frustration.
In Yu City, autumn hadn't fully arrived yet. The grass outside the apartments was still lush green. With kids still in class, everything felt peaceful and quiet.
Thanks to the four-day break Ji Yu's mom and sister still had, she didn't have to cook when she got home from classes.
Sliding her key into the lock, Ji Yu took a deep breath, burying both the pride she felt from being admired and the irritation from earlier. She turned the key with a practiced smile.
Inside, things looked the same—except for two unfamiliar pairs of shoes by the door, and the sound of someone clumsily strumming a guitar.
"Guess the host is back. I'll stop embarrassing myself."
Jiyu's older sister, Ji Yu, set the guitar aside and grabbed her by the hand, dragging her straight into the bedroom.
"So? How is it? Didn't this outfit get you stares left and right? I poured so much effort into making it. Rate it, come on!"
Ji Yu froze. She had never seen her sister this hyper, almost manic—so different from the cool, composed figure she remembered when she was still a boy. It left her a little too startled to answer.
"It's… it's okay…"
Her timid reply didn't dampen Ji Yu's enthusiasm. She launched into a dramatic tale of how many hours she'd worked, how much effort she'd spent, like recounting her entire life struggle—all over this one outfit.
"So, Xiaoyu, how does it feel being a girl?"
Finally—a real question.
Ji Yu took off her glasses and thought carefully.
"As a girl, I can dress myself up every day. It puts me in a good mood.
And ever since I changed, my friends seem to care more about me too… that feels nice.
Plus, my face doesn't even need heavy makeup. Just a few days of practice, and I'll be able to do light makeup on my own."
"And the real answer?"
The room fell silent. The only sound was the ticking of the clock on the wall.
Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.
Ji Yu searched her heart for the truest thought. Her sister waited patiently. Time dragged on, until finally their mother pushed open the door and called them out to dinner.
Only then did Ji Yu silently mouth the words—
"Not bad."
Ji Yu's sister burst into laughter, genuine and unrestrained. She skipped happily, arm-in-arm with Ji Yu, following their mom into the dining room.
On the table sat a giant bowl of lemon chicken wings—gloves prepared, the perfect snack for late summer and early autumn.
The lid lifted. A sharp sourness filled the air, only to be quickly drowned out by the sound of laughter.
"So sour, Mom! Did you mess up the ratio of chili, lemon, and vinegar? My head's spinning already."
She complained, but Ji Yu held a wing in each hand, chewing enthusiastically like she couldn't get enough. A perfect picture of 'I love it but I'll still complain.'
More laughter followed.
After bitterness, people crave something sour.
Would she… come to like sweet things next?