Lin Yuexin walked quickly.
Not quite running—but far from the pace of someone calm, or entirely rational. Her steps were light, hurried, almost as if she were trying to outpace a thought rather than a person.
"Yuexin—slow down!" Tang Meiling called from behind, her breath uneven. "We left him minutes ago. He's not following you."
"That's exactly what someone who would follow me would want me to believe," Yuexin replied, her tone steady, utterly convinced—yet her pace did not falter.
A faint breeze passed through the street, stirring loose petals along the pavement. They scattered in her wake, caught briefly in the rhythm of her steps.
Qin Ruo glanced at her, one brow lifting slightly. "He spoke to you like he knew you. Are you sure you've never met him before?"
Yuexin slowed just enough to turn, walking backward now, her expression sharpening with thought.
"You noticed that too, right?" she said. "But I really don't think I've met him."
Tang Meiling's lips curved, a trace of mischief surfacing. "Maybe you have," she said lightly. "You just don't remember."
Yuexin frowned. "That doesn't—"
"Do you remember high school?" Meiling continued, unbothered. "You had that crush on a senior. Then one day, you saw him outside school…"
A pause lingered—just long enough.
"…and you didn't recognize him at all."
For a brief moment, the world seemed to hold its breath then laughter broke through, bright and unrestrained.
Color rose quickly to Yuexin's cheeks. "That was one time—!"
"Mm," Meiling nodded, entirely unconvinced. "A very memorable one."
Her tone softened slightly as she added, "Still… putting that aside—he was quite handsome."
Yuexin's steps slowed, almost imperceptibly. "…I suppose," she admitted after a beat, her voice quieter now, "he was."
A faint pause. "…Though he did seem a little older."
Qin Ruo gave a low chuckle. "You noticed that much?"
Yuexin shot him a look, then glanced back over her shoulder. For a moment, her gaze lingered—on empty space. "…Still," she murmured, more to herself than to them, "something about him felt… strange."
The word hung lightly in the air, not heavy, yet not easily dismissed.
—
Qin Ruo stopped. "…Wait."
The shift was subtle—but enough. The others turned.
"What is it?" Meiling asked.
His expression had changed—no longer idle, no longer amused.
"…The project."
A quiet pause followed. "…What project?" Yuexin asked, her tone cautious.
"The project," he repeated. "Due tomorrow."
Another pause—
Recognition settled, slow and inevitable.
"Oh. Oh. Oh."
Meiling lifted a hand to her forehead. "The anomaly-detection simulation…"
"It's only a intermediate one," Qin Ruo said, though the reassurance lacked weight. "Second-year level."
"Then why does it feel like it's trying to ruin our lives?" Yuexin muttered.
Silence answered her then looked up. Only to find all three of them staring.
"…Why are you looking at me?"
"Because you said," Meiling replied, pointing without hesitation, "'Let's relax today. We'll finish it later.'"
Yuexin raised a finger. "In my defense…"
The words lingered then faded.
"…I have no defense."
A quiet groan slipped from Qin Ruo. "We'll go to the net café after class."
Wenxi gave a small nod. "We'll need a few hours."
Yuexin exhaled softly. "Fine… but I just lost my phone, so if anything goes wrong, I'm blaming that cat."
Qin Ruo glanced at her. "…You're still thinking about that?"
"That cat," Yuexin said calmly, "has responsibilities."
—
They continued forward, their pace subtly quickening, their earlier ease giving way to a quiet urgency.
The city moved around them—voices, footsteps, distant sounds blending into a steady hum. Petals drifted once more through the air, catching briefly in Yuexin's hair before slipping away.
Then— she stopped. Abruptly."…Wait." The others halted behind her, their momentum breaking.
"What now?" Meiling asked, a trace of impatience slipping through.
Yuexin didn't answer. Slowly— she turned. Her gaze settled somewhere ahead, unfocused at first… then sharpening, as though a thought had finally caught up with her. And in the next moment her eyes widened.
"…I didn't ask his name."
Silence.
A breeze passed quietly between them, carrying a few stray petals across the road.
Qin Ruo blinked. "Whose?"
"That guy," Yuexin said, turning back to them. "The phone criminal's owner."
Meiling stared at her. "…You mean the suspicious man you were just trying to escape from?"
"Yes."
A pause.
"…And now you want to go back?"
"…No."
"Then why does it matter?"
Yuexin's expression grew unexpectedly serious, almost troubled.
"…He said he'd compensate me."
Qin Ruo looked at her for a long moment.
"…So this is about money."
"This is about justice."
"You switched from justice to 'reasonable person' in less than a second."
"That's called adaptability."
A quiet beat followed. Wenxi tilted her head slightly, her voice calm as ever. "You didn't ask for his contact information either."
Yuexin stilled. Completely.
"…I didn't ask for his number."
Another pause settled—this one heavier, more definitive.
Qin Ruo spoke slowly, each word deliberate.
"…You lost a phone…"
A breath.
"…and also lost the person who was going to pay for it."
The realization lingered in the air. Unavoidable. Yuexin stood there, silent. The morning moved on around them—voices in the distance, footsteps passing, petals drifting lightly across the pavement. And in the middle of it all, she looked faintly… defeated.
Yuexin clutched her chest dramatically.
"…Great. This might actually be my villain origin story."
Meiling let out a laugh. "You're unbelievable."
Yuexin sighed, long and theatrical. "Why does life treat me like this? First the cat, then the man, now the money…"
The complaint lingered in the air, light but not entirely without weight.
Meiling's laughter softened. After a moment, she said, "But why are you so worried about your phone? Just tell your mother. She'll get you a new one. And you've definitely backed up your data."
Yuexin's steps slowed.
Just slightly.
"The thing is…" she began, her tone shifting, quieter now. "A few days ago, I had a fight with her."
The breeze moved gently through the street, lifting the edge of her sleeve before settling again.
"She said I wouldn't survive out here without her help."
A pause.
"So I decided…" Yuexin lifted her chin, her voice steadier now, "…I'm not going to ask my family for anything anymore."
Something in her expression changed—not loud, not dramatic, but firm.
"I'll handle things myself. I'll become independent."
Wenxi exhaled softly, her gaze calm. "The classic story of a sheltered child."
Yuexin didn't argue.
"I'll earn my own money," she said instead. "And I'll solve my own problems."
The words settled quietly, but they held.
—
By the time they reached the main road, the city had fully awakened.
The crowd thickened around them—voices rising, footsteps overlapping, fragments of conversation weaving into a steady hum. The earlier stillness had dissolved completely, replaced by the rhythm of daily life.
For a moment, everything felt… normal again.
Until—
The plaza came into view.
The Xuanjing Academy of Arcane Science stood ahead, its open square unusually crowded. Students weren't just passing through—they had gathered. Paused. Watching. A low murmur spread through the air, restless and curious.
"Why is everyone standing here?" Meiling asked, trying to peer past the people in front.
Qin Ruo glanced ahead, then pointed. "The main screen's on. Must be something important."
At the center of the plaza, a vast projection hovered into existence. It shimmered faintly, its edges nearly invisible—like glass formed from light itself. Streams of data flickered across its surface, rapid and incomprehensible at first, before settling into a clear, stable broadcast.
There was nothing unusual about that.
Not here.
In Xuanjing, technology had long since crossed into something harder to define.
Energy systems powered by refined Ling Shu—spirit cores shaped and stabilized for modern use. Surveillance arrays that could sense disturbances beyond ordinary perception. Networks that moved information through layers no conventional code could fully explain.
It was a world where logic existed—
But not always alone.
And this morning—
Something within that system had drawn everyone's attention.
The broadcast sharpened.
"—recent developments within the Mingxuan network continue to draw attention, particularly with the emergence of one of its youngest leading figures…"
Yuexin wasn't really listening.
Not at first.
The words drifted past her, indistinct, blending into the low hum of the crowd—
Until—
The screen shifted.
And he appeared.
She froze.
"…No way."
"Who?" Meiling asked, leaning closer.
Yuexin lifted her hand slowly, pointing toward the projection.
"That's him."
Qin Ruo squinted at the screen. "The… phone incident guy?"
"The cat criminal's owner," Yuexin corrected.
"…Right."
—
On the screen, the man stood composed, framed in dark, refined clothing that contrasted with the pale glow of the projection. Behind him, faint insignias hovered—symbols that didn't belong entirely to any one system. Not purely corporate. Not entirely traditional.
Something in between.
Something unfamiliar.
"Mingxuan's influence has continued to expand across multiple sectors," the announcer's voice resumed, steady and measured, "from security enforcement to anomaly regulation…"
"Anomaly regulation?" Meiling echoed.
Wenxi's gaze sharpened, just slightly. "Irregular phenomena," she said. "Things that don't follow expected laws."
Yuexin blinked. "…Like glitches?"
"…Something like that."
—
On screen, the man spoke.
His voice was calm.
Measured.
Each word placed with quiet precision.
"Unstable variables cannot be ignored."
The plaza seemed to still, if only by a fraction.
"Whether they originate from technological error… or something beyond it—"
A faint pause.
"They must be identified, understood… and contained."
The air shifted—subtly, but enough to be felt.
"Control is not about restriction," he continued, his tone even, almost gentle. "It is about preventing collapse."
His gaze did not waver.
"A system without balance… will eventually destroy itself."
—
Yuexin stared.
"…Why does he sound like he's about to take over the world?"
Qin Ruo gave a small shrug. "Maybe he's just dramatic."
"…He sounded like that earlier too," Yuexin muttered.
Meiling nudged her lightly. "You're scared."
"I am not scared."
"You ran away."
"I did not."
Their voices, light and familiar, cut softly through the lingering weight of the broadcast.
—
The screen shifted again—data streams unfolding into layered visuals.
Maps. Signals. Patterns that fluctuated in ways that didn't quite follow logic.
Lines that moved… almost as if they were alive.
"Let's go," Qin Ruo said at last. "We still have class—and a project we're definitely failing if we don't finish it."
"HEY—"
—
They turned, their footsteps carrying them away from the plaza.
Their voices blended once more into the rhythm of the campus—casual, fleeting, ordinary.
Behind them, the screen dimmed and the light softened. The broadcast began to dissolve.
But for a brief moment—
One frame remained still, unmoving. The man's image lingered, his gaze fixed forward. As though it had never left. As though it was still watching.