Zhao Xia leaned over XinYue's desk, smirking.
"You know," she said, tapping the edge of XinYue's notebook, "I saw him today. Your protector? Totally flustered when you ignored him in the hallway."
XinYue rolled her eyes. "He wasn't flustered."
"Oh, come on. You didn't see the way he tapped his pen like it was a drum solo." Zhao Xia teased. "He's losing control, I swear."
"I wasn't doing it on purpose," XinYue muttered, trying not to grin.
"Uh-huh. Sure." Zhao Xia leaned back dramatically. "Anyway, your little admirer here—he's basically your shadow now. You two should start coordinating outfits."
Li Hanyan appeared behind them, calm but attentive. He raised an eyebrow. "Coordinating what?"
"Nothing," XinYue said quickly, cheeks heating.
Zhao Xia pointed at him innocently. "Oh, nothing at all. Just saying you're obvious, that's all."
He glanced at XinYue for a beat longer than necessary. The corner of his mouth twitched. He didn't say anything. Not yet.
---
A few days later, campus chatter introduced a new tension. A familiar face—Yihan—Xinye's old schoolmate, had transferred. Not a friend. Just someone who remembered everything.
That evening, XinYue went to a small store for groceries. She didn't expect to see Li Hanyan there, picking up a drink. Before she could step forward, a voice stopped him.
"Li Hanyan."
He turned. Yihan, arms crossed, smirk firmly in place.
"Hello," he said cautiously.
"I've heard about you," Yihan said, eyes flicking toward XinYue, who had paused a few meters behind. "About XinYue. Interesting past she has, huh? You probably didn't know half of it."
Li Hanyan tensed. "And you're…?"
"Oh, I just happen to know the truth," Yihan said, deliberately slow, "about where she came from, who she used to be, what she did. Ninety percent fact. Ten percent… garnish."
He blinked, processing, a knot forming in his chest. "Why are you telling me this?"
"Consider it… a courtesy." Yihan smirked again and walked off, leaving him staring after her.
---
The next day, during lunch, Li Hanyan approached XinYue quietly, careful not to draw attention.
"XinYue," he said, low, private. "Yihan… she told me something yesterday. About your past."
XinYue froze, notebook halfway to her face. "She… she said?"
"Some truth. Some… embellishment," he said, voice even but tense. "I just need you to be honest with me. Everything."
XinYue exhaled slowly, lowering her notebook. "Everything you need to know," she said softly. "It's mostly nothing. And the rest… it's just stories."
Li Hanyan studied her face, searching for hidden meaning, for anything that might slip past. He found nothing but sincerity.
For the first time in hours, the knot in his chest loosened just slightly.
"You… trust me?" he asked, more quietly than usual.
"I do," she said.
A pause. The cafeteria buzzed around them, but in that small space, it felt like just the two of them.
And Li Hanyan realized—past or present, rumors or truth—nothing would shake what they were building.