The Saturday morning air at "Green Shanghai Park" was crisp, filled with the scent of damp grass and the rhythmic "swish-swish" of brooms. Organized by the Communist Youth League, the social service event had drawn a large crowd of students, all clad in bright yellow volunteer vests.
Among them, Gu Wei was a blur of efficiency. He moved with a relaxed grace, bending to pick up litter with his reacher tool, his expression one of genuine contentment. He looked around at the disciplined rows of students cleaning the pathways, a small, impressed smile playing on his lips.
However, that smile faltered when his gaze landed on a stagnant point near the koi pond.
Le Mei and Jiang Min were not sweeping. They were standing mere inches apart, their brooms held like spears, eyes locked in a "glazing" match so intense it seemed to heat the air between them. Mei's chin was tilted up with regal defiance; Min's brow was furrowed with "Warrior" stubbornness.
"Flick. Flick."
At the exact same moment, both girls gasped as a finger sharply flicked their foreheads. The impact forced them to stumble back, their hands flying up to rub the reddening spots. They turned, ready to lash out, only to find Wei standing there with his hands on his hips.
"Everyone else is working," Wei said, his voice dropping into a stern, "Big Brother" tone. "You two are the only ones slacking."
Min pointed an accusing finger at Mei. "Why is she even here? This is a Youth League event!"
Mei offered a slow, teasing smile—the kind that didn't reach her eyes but was designed to needle Min's nerves. "Voluntary service, of course. Some of us actually care about the city, Min."
Min's face flushed. "We don't need your 'charity' here. Go back to your mansion."
As Mei opened her mouth to deliver a cutting retort, Wei stepped between them, his eyes fixing on Min. "Min, as the leader of the Youth League here, you're supposed to be the example. Instead, you're standing here picking fights. It's disappointing."
Min's bravado crumbled instantly. Her lower lip wobbled, and her eyes went wide and glassy—the ultimate "puppy face" of defeat.
Mei couldn't help a triumphant smirk. "Wei defended me," she thought, her heart swelling. But the victory lasted only a second.
Wei turned his gaze to Mei. "And you. If you're here to volunteer, then volunteer. Standing here, while others are working ; . Both of you—go. Work."
Mei's smile vanished. Min's gloom turned into a petty grin. They both gripped their brooms and stomped off in opposite directions, but the "peace" was a lie.
Within minutes, the cleaning turned into a high-stakes competition. If Min swept a pile of leaves, Mei would "accidentally" sweep them back toward her. If Mei reached for a piece of plastic, Min's reacher tool would snap it up first. They bumped shoulders, blocked each other's paths, and whispered sharp insults under their breath, their glares growing more lethal by the second.
"That's my sector!" Min hissed, shoving her broom into Mei's space.
"I'm doing a more thorough job," Mei shot back, stepping on a leaf Min was about to sweep.
The bickering escalated until they were standing over a single discarded soda can, both sets of hands gripping their tools, their voices rising into a full-blown argument that began to draw stares from the other students.
Suddenly, a heavy weight landed on both of their shoulders at once. The grip was firm, unyielding, and carried a physical heat that made them freeze.
"Min. Mei."
The voice was low, vibrating with a cold, suppressed anger they had never heard before. The voice didn't just sound angry; it sounded disappointed.
Both girls felt a shiver of genuine terror run down their spines. Their hands trembled as they slowly, very slowly, turned their heads to look up at the person standing behind them.
Wei's face was a mask of cold fury. His jaw was set, and his eyes, usually so warm and inviting, were now as sharp as shards of ice. The two girls froze. The fire in their eyes turned into a cold, sinking dread. They were terrified to look up, but they could feel the heat of Wei's gaze burning into the back of their heads
Afternoon - In the Theatre
The dim, amber glow of the theater's wall sconces created a pocket of forced intimacy as the two "secret" couples settled into the plush velvet seats, unaware that the Great Wall of Shanghai High was collapsing just a few rows apart.
Zhao Feng and Wang Shanshan slipped into the back row, their fingers interlaced in a grip that was half-affectionate, half-anxious. Feng carried a large bucket of popcorn, the buttery scent filling the space between them.
"It's tiring, isn't it?" Feng whispered, sinking into the seat with a heavy exhale. "Acting like mortal enemies every day at school, always looking over my shoulder just to breathe the same air as you. Meeting secretly like this... it's just a lot."
Shanshan's hand suddenly went cold in his. She pulled away, her expression hardening as she turned her head toward the dark screen. "Tiring?" she repeated, her voice laced with a sharp, hurt edge. "Oh, I'm so sorry my company is such an exhausting burden for you, Feng. "
Feng's eyes went wide. "That's not what I—"
"No, I get it," Shanshan interrupted, crossing her arms tightly. "If meeting me secretly is so draining, maybe you should just save your energy and go home."
"Shanshan, look at me," Feng pleaded, leaning into her space. He reached out, gently catching her chin to pull her gaze back. "I mean the acting is tiring. The lying is tiring. Being with you... that's the only part of the day that isn't work."
Shanshan bit her lip, her anger melting into a small, reluctant pout. She looked at his sincere, frantic expression and finally let out a soft huff of forgiveness. She leaned her head onto his shoulder, her hair brushing against his neck, and slid her hand back into his. "Fine. But buy me more snacks after this."
Feng chuckled, his thumb tracing circles on her knuckles as the lights began to dim.
As the opening credits of "You Are the Apple of My Eye" began to roll, a couple moved down the aisle toward the front row. Feng's eyes narrowed. The silhouette of the boy's shoulders and the girl's quiet, reserved walk felt hauntingly familiar.
"What happened?" Shanshan whispered, noticing him stiffen.
Feng watched as the couple sat down. Hao and Ling? he though. He ignored it ,"Nothing much," Feng said, a small, knowing smile spreading across his face as he relaxed back into the seat. "I just realized the movie is going to be better than I thought."
In the very front row, Zhang Hao and Xu Ling sat close enough that their shoulders brushed. Ling was fidgeting, her eyes darting toward the "Exit" sign every few minutes.
"What if someone saw us?" Ling whispered, her voice trembling with a genuine, deep-seated fear. "If the Strivers or the Gold Circle find out... Hao, we'd be outcasts."
Hao didn't answer with words. He shifted in his seat, turning fully toward her. He reached out, his large hands framing her face, his palms warm against her cool skin.
Ling's heart felt like it was going to burst. The shyness took over, her eyelashes fluttering as she looked down, but the heat of his hands acted like an anchor, stopping her from drifting into a panic.
"Look at me," Hao said softly.
Ling lifted her gaze, meeting his steady, dark eyes.
"Don't worry," Hao promised, his voice a low, firm vibration. "I'm here. I wouldn't leave you, Ling. Not for the Gold Circle, and not for anything else."
He slowly pulled back, his hand traveling down to find hers. He offered his palm, an open invitation. Ling looked at his hand, then at him, her eyes shining with a mixture of gratitude and growing courage. She slowly placed her hand in his, lacing their fingers together.
She nodded, a small, beautiful smile finally gracing her lips. As the movie's theme song began to play, filling the theater with a nostalgic melody, the two couples sat in the dark and embracing this moment.
Zhao Feng was trying to enjoy the popcorn, but his eyes were fixed on the back of two heads in the front row. His jaw tightened. The way that boy tilted his head... the way the girl tucked her hair behind her ear... it was too familiar.
3Pm At "Evergreen Scholars' Retreat"
The afternoon sun slanted through the tall windows of the "Evergreen Scholars' Retreat," casting a warm glow over the polished mahogany furniture. The air was thick with the scent of old paper and medicinal tea.
On the small stage, Gu Wei and Jiang Min were halfway through a rigid "Modern Health and Discipline" seminar. Min stood at the podium, her back straight and her expression serious, pointing to a chart. Beside her, Wei nodded, looking every bit the scholarly leader.
"Discipline is the foundation of longevity," Min announced, her eyes scanning the room for any signs of drifting attention.
However, the back of the room was suspiciously quiet.
Min stepped down to check on the attendees, only to freeze. In the lounge area, twenty retired veterans—who were supposed to be learning about "Regulated Routines"—were gathered in a boisterous circle. In the center sat Le Mei, her "Goddess" composure replaced by a sharp, focused intensity. The "Modern Discipline" pamphlets had been pushed aside to make room for clattering Mahjong tiles and a dusty Chinese Chess set.
"Checkmate, General," Mei said, a rare, playful spark in her eyes as the veterans cheered and groaned.
Min stormed over, grabbing Mei's arm and pulling her into a quiet corner. ""What is this disorganized chaos?They are supposed to be learning about health, not gambling!"
Mei didn't flinch. She smoothed her sleeve, her expression turning cool and distant. "They are eighty years old, Min. They don't need a lecture on 'discipline'; they need a reason to laugh. You're being emotionless. Look at them—their blood pressure is probably better now than it was during your speech."
The two squared off, their gazes locked. For a moment, the "Warrior" and the "Goddess" were at a stalemate, until Min let out a sharp, exasperated huff. "Fine. But the Mahjong stays in the box until the break."
Mei offered a small, victorious "puppy-face" pout and returned to her seat.
But as they turned toward the other side of the hall, both girls stopped dead. Another group of twenty veterans was huddled around a table, laughing loudly. In the middle was Wei, discarded cards in his hand and a broad, effortless smile on his face. He was losing—on purpose—and the veterans were treating him like a long-lost grandson.
Wei looked up, spotting the two girls. "Don't just stand there," he called out, his voice warm and inviting. "Come join us. General Qin here is showing no mercy."
The tension broke instantly. Both Mei and Min rushed to the table, their faces lighting up with bright, competing smiles.
The next hour was a blur of subtle warfare.They sat on either side of Wei, every time Wei reached for a glass of water, Min's hand was there first, pressing a cold bottle into his palm. When he mentioned he was hungry, Mei was already there, offering a plate of sliced fruit she had perfectly arranged. They bumped shoulders, blocked each other's paths, and used the veterans as shields to get closer to him.
Later, as the event began to wind down, Wei found Mei standing by a window, watching the crates of supplies. She was looking across the room at Min, who was laughing heartily as she helped a veteran find his cane.
Wei stepped up behind her. "Are you happy, Mei?" he asked softly.
Mei didn't turn around. "Yes," she whispered, her voice barely audible. But when she finally turned and realized Wei was standing only inches away, her heart skipped a violent beat. Her breath hitched, and she instinctively took a half-step back, her fingers gripping the edge of the table.
Wei didn't move. His expression turned profoundly serious, his eyes searching hers. "Are you truly happy, Mei?"
Mei tried to regain her "Goddess" mask, her voice trembling slightly. "What do you mean? I'm fine."
"I mean," Wei said, stepping closer again, his voice dropping to a low, intimate register. "Are you truly happy that Min treats you as an enemy? After all these years?"
Mei's eyes darted away. "We are rivals. Enemies. That's just how it is."
"Don't hide it, Mei. I know." Wei stood straight, his presence filling the space. "You treat Min like a sister. She is more special to you than any of us. I've seen it—the times you defended her from the Gold Circle, the times you helped her group secretly when they were in trouble."
Mei's lower lip trembled. She tried to deny it, but her voice failed her.
"Why keep it inside?" Wei continued, a deep breath hitching in his chest. "Why let her misunderstand you? Why push her further away?"
The dam finally broke. A single, hot tear rolled down Mei's cheek, followed by another. She looked up at him, a broken, watery smile on her face.
"After you left for London... you left me with them," Mei sobbed, her voice cracking. "The Gold Circle... they were my responsibility. I had to protect them. But Min... she was the first friend I ever made on my own. I tried so hard to hold them all together, Brother Wei. But it was too much.I tried to be the bridge, but the bridge was breaking. I had to choose a side to keep the peace, even if it meant becoming her villain."
She buried her face in her hands, her shoulders shaking with years of repressed grief.
Wei felt a sharp pang of guilt pierce his heart. He reached out, pulling her into a firm, protective hug. He tucked her head under his chin, his hand resting on the back of her head.
"It's my fault," Wei whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "I spoiled them all and left you to pick up the pieces. It's been so hard on you, hasn't it? I'm so sorry, Mei."
He pulled her closer, his grip unyielding. "But I'm back now. You don't have to carry it alone anymore. I'll take care of it."
Mei didn't pull away. She reached up, clutching the fabric of his shirt, and hugged him back with all the strength she had left, finally letting the weight of the last nine years fall away.