Spring slipped into Xuanjing quietly, almost unnoticed, like a change in rhythm rather than a change in season. Morning light filtered through the glass window, soft and unhurried, settling across the room in a warm, golden haze. It lingered on the edges of furniture, on the faint smudges of everyday living, as though reluctant to move on.
The air carried a gentle contrast—cherry blossoms drifting in from somewhere beyond the city, light and fleeting, woven together with the deeper, richer scent of freshly brewed coffee. Steam rose from the ceramic cup on the table, thin and wavering, before fading into the still air.
Lin Yuexin stood before the mirror, caught somewhere between sleep and wakefulness. The light softened her reflection, blurring the faint traces of exhaustion beneath her eyes. Her golden-brown hair fell loosely over her shoulders, slightly tousled, while her bangs rested unevenly across her lashes, catching stray glints of sunlight.
She rubbed her eyes with a quiet frown, movements slow and uncoordinated, then pressed her fingers lightly into her cheeks, as if checking whether she was fully awake.
"…Why do I look like I just returned from a battle field?"
Her voice was low, edged with dry disbelief—more habit than complaint.
The room offered no response.
She exhaled softly and turned away, her footsteps muted against the floor as she walked into the living room. The space was still, carrying that early-morning emptiness that came before the world fully woke up.
Reaching for the cup, she wrapped her fingers around it, letting the warmth seep in. For a moment, she didn't move—just stood there, grounded by the heat and the familiar bitterness in the air.
Then, slowly, she lifted it and took a measured sip.
"Meow…! Meow…!"
The soft cries slipped into the quiet, breaking it in gentle ripples.
Yuexin lowered her gaze.
A small figure circled her feet, persistent and warm, its fur brushing lightly against her leg as if it had been waiting all morning. The little cat pressed closer, nuzzling with quiet insistence, unwilling to be overlooked.
"Xiao Yue…"
Her voice softened, touched with fond resignation.
She bent down and scooped the cat into her arms. It settled against her with practiced ease, light and warm, as though it had always belonged there. Turning, she walked toward the table, where a half-open box of cat food sat waiting.
With a casual motion, she poured the food into the bowl. The soft clatter echoed faintly in the still room.
"You're unusually energetic today…" she murmured, watching it with a faint, lingering smile.
For a moment, she didn't move.
The quiet stretched between them, gentle and unbroken, as the morning lingered in its slow rhythm.
Then, almost unconsciously, her expression shifted.
"Xiao Yue…" she said again, more softly this time, her fingers absentmindedly smoothing through its fur. "I might be home late today."
Her gaze dipped, the words coming slower now.
"I'll drop you at the pet daycare… and ask Lu Wei-jie to keep an eye on you for a while."
The thought seemed to linger longer than the words themselves, settling quietly into the space around her.
—
From downstairs, a voice shattered the calm without warning—
"LIN YUEXIN! WE'RE GETTING LATE FOR CLASS! TEN SECONDS—GET DOWN HERE NOW!"
Yuexin went completely still.
A beat.
Then—
"I'M COMING! DON'T YOU DARE LEAVE WITHOUT ME!"
The stillness collapsed instantly.
She finished her coffee in a few quick gulps, barely tasting the last of its bitterness. A pastel blouse slipped over her shoulders, swiftly tucked into high-waisted jeans.
In her haste, she nearly tripped over her white sneakers, catching herself just in time. By the time she reached the door, she had already gathered everything—laptop and bag clutched in one arm, Xiao Yue tucked securely in the other.
And then she was gone.
—
Ten minutes later—
"I said ten seconds."
Tang Meiling stood with her arms crossed, expression flat, utterly unmoved.
"Ten seconds is physically impossible," Yuexin shot back between breaths. " to be honest... I needed more than that."
Meiling exhaled, long and suffering, before crouching down.
"Xiao Yue…" she said solemnly, patting the little cat, "in the future, don't grow up to be like your owner."
Yuexin let out a quiet laugh. "There's a saying—pets take after their owners."
Meiling snorted, already grabbing Yuexin's bag from her shoulder. "Then this one still has hope. Come on."
—
A few blocks later, they stopped in front of the pet-care shop—"Paw & Pets."
Inside, the morning calm lingered. Behind the counter stood Ting Wei, a woman in her early thirties, her presence as steady as the space around her.
"You're later than usual today, Yuexin," she said, voice calm but knowing.
"I lost track of time," Yuexin admitted without hesitation.
She hesitated for a moment, then added, "Lu Wei-jie… I might be late picking her up today, so could you—"
A soft chuckle interrupted her.
"Don't worry," Ting Wei replied. "I'll take care of her, like always."
Yuexin's shoulders eased instantly. "Thank you, Lu Wei-jie!"
Reluctantly, she handed Xiao Yue over. The small weight left her arms, and with it, a quiet sense of warmth.
Then she turned and walked out of the shop.
—
Up ahead, near the intersection, two familiar figures waited.
Zhao Wenxi stood slightly apart, her attention fixed on the tablet in her hands, the soft glow reflecting in her calm, focused eyes. Beside her, Qin Ruo leaned casually, close enough to glance at the screen without asking.
"You're late," Qin Ruo said the moment Yuexin approached.
"Sorry," Yuexin replied with a small, exaggerated bow. "I was dropping off Xiao Yue."
"…That's unexpected," Wenxi murmured.
Both Yuexin and Ruo glanced toward her. Wenxi tilted the tablet slightly, turning the screen toward them. A face appeared—elegant, distant, almost unreal in its perfection.
"Rising star 'Lian,' originally known as Su Lianyu, announces return after a five-year hiatus."
"…He's coming back?" Qin Ruo's brows lifted in surprise. "After disappearing like that?" "Five years…" Meiling muttered. "That's a really long break." Yuexin blinked, her gaze lingering on the screen. "…It really isn't." Wenxi only hummed in quiet acknowledgment, eyes unreadable.
—
They fell into step soon after, heading toward the university gates.
The streets had fully awakened—vendors setting up their stalls, voices weaving into the air, students passing in hurried clusters. Faint lanterns still glowed from the night before, their light paling against the growing brightness of day.
Petals drifted lazily on the breeze, catching briefly in Yuexin's hair before slipping away again.
"I still can't believe it," Meiling said, her voice bright with excitement. "The legendary Lian is finally coming back—with that voice of his…"
A ripple of laughter passed through the group.
Then— "Wait… what is that—?"
Something moved.
A sudden blur of black shot out from the side—
"HEY—?!"
THUD!
"MY PHONE—!"
CRACK.
SCREEN SHATTERS.
. Yuexin lowered her gaze slowly. Her phone lay on the ground—screen splintered into a web of fractures, light bleeding unevenly through the cracks. Something about it felt… final.
"…I just bought this," she said under her breath.
A few steps away, a black cat landed with effortless grace. It turned, sat and looked at her. Not apologetically. Not indifferently. There was something else in its gaze—something almost deliberate.
"…You," Yuexin said, pointing at it.
"You broke my phone." The cat blinked. "Say something!" Another blink. "Yuexin," Wenxi said gently, "it's a cat. Aren't you supposed to like them?"
"I do like cats!" Yuexin snapped, then pointed again, more emphatically. "But look at it. That is not the face of innocence."
Qin Ruo let out a quiet laugh. "Yeah… that looks premeditated."
"Exactly!" Yuexin nodded sharply. "This was planned. I can feel it." The cat flicked its tail, utterly unbothered.
"…You're paying for this," Yuexin muttered darkly.
"Are you alright?"
The voice came from behind her—low, steady. Yuexin turned and paused.
First thought: Wow.
Second thought: …Wow.
Third thought: That's actually unfair.
The man standing there was tall, composed, dressed in light tones that seemed to blend with the soft brightness of morning. Nothing about him was loud, yet he stood out effortlessly—like a presence that didn't need to announce itself.
And yet—
There was something restrained in him. Something quiet, almost distant, as though a part of him stood somewhere far beyond this moment.
His gaze settled on her. Then shifted. "…You're still the same."
Yuexin blinked. "…Excuse me?"
He stepped closer—not hurried, not imposing. Just calm, as if time bent slightly around him. "For a moment," he said, voice soft, "I thought this time might be different."
Yuexin stared at him. Then slowly turned her head—first to Meiling, then Wenxi, then Qin Ruo. Then back to him. "…Do I owe you money?" she asked, completely serious.
A brief pause.
"…No."
"Then why are you talking like we have a tragic past?" she continued. "Because I'm very sure I would remember your face." Qin Ruo coughed, shoulders shaking as he tried not to laugh.
Meiling leaned in slightly. "Yuexin… maybe don't offend the mysterious handsome stranger."
"I'm not offending him," Yuexin whispered back. "I'm investigating."
The man watched her quietly. For the briefest moment something like amusement flickered in his eyes. Behind him, unnoticed the black cat padded forward and sat neatly at his side.
Yuexin froze. "…Wait."
She pointed again, slower this time. "That cat," she said. "That criminal. …Is it yours?"
The cat's tail flicked once, as if answering for him. The man glanced down at it, then back at her.
"Yes."
... ... ...
Yuexin inhaled slowly. Then smiled—bright, composed. "Great," she said. "Then you owe me a phone."
Qin Ruo lost it completely. Meiling choked on her own breath. Even Wenxi's expression shifted, faint surprise breaking through her calm. The man remained still. "…It wasn't intentional."
Yuexin crossed her arms. "Oh, so it breaks phones accidentally? That's worse. That means it's experienced." The cat let out a soft, unimpressed meow.
"Don't 'meow' at me," Yuexin replied immediately. "You have responsibilities."
"…I'll compensate you," he said.
Yuexin blinked. Then instantly straightened, expression smoothing into polite composure. "Well," she said, "you seem like a very responsible and trustworthy individual."
The man's gaze lingered on her. "…You haven't changed."
Yuexin frowned slightly. "…We really haven't met before, right?"
"…No."
But this time there was the faintest hesitation. Yuexin narrowed her eyes. "…Hmm." Then she shrugged it off. "Alright. As long as you pay, we're on good terms." She turned, grabbing Meiling's arm.
"Let's go before I get emotionally attached to my broken phone."
"YOU WERE JUST DEMANDING JUSTICE—"
"I've evolved."
Their voices faded as they walked away, blending into the liveliness of the street.
Yuexin didn't look back. She didn't notice— That behind her, he hadn't moved.
The street had already swallowed her presence, her voice fading into the flow of morning. And yet, he remained where he stood, as if time had chosen to linger around him a little longer.
A soft brush of fur broke the stillness.
The black cat circled once, then pressed lightly against his leg.
"…She's even more troublesome this time," he murmured.
The cat blinked up at him, unimpressed.
His gaze stayed fixed on the direction she had gone—calm, distant, as though trying to follow something that could no longer be seen. Then, suddenly—
He stilled. "…Wait."
A faint crease formed between his brows as realization surfaced.
He lowered his eyes to the cat.
"Mo Ling," he said slowly, "I forgot to ask for her contact number."
A pause.
"…How am I supposed to compensate her for the phone?"
Mo Ling stared back at him. Not blinking this time. Just staring. There was something unmistakably judgmental in that look.
He exhaled softly, a hint of resignation slipping through his composure.
"…Forget it."
His gaze lifted again, returning to the path she had taken. This time, there was something quieter beneath it—something almost certain.
"I'm sure… we'll meet again."
The spring breeze drifted through the alley, light and unhurried, carrying scattered petals into the air. They rose, swayed, and lingered for a moment longer than they should have—
As though time itself had paused,
just slightly.