It was already early April when Zhu Xingyan returned to school.
Summer was just beginning to show itself. Outside the window, the camphor trees were thick with lush green, and in the school’s lotus pond, round leaves had started to emerge.
It was still early morning. Only a few scattered figures were present in the classroom. As soon as Zhu Xingyan walked in, he noticed that the long-absent classroom had changed its layout — yet his own seat remained unchanged, still sitting alone like an island by the window.
One after another, a few more classmates arrived. Whenever their eyes fell on him, they inevitably froze for a moment, surprise almost escaping their lips before it turned into hushed whispers.
“It’s Zhu Xingyan.”
“He actually came to school today.”
“We’re finally seeing him this semester.”
Some greeted him quite openly and casually.
“Hi, Zhu Xingyan.”
“Good morning,” he replied with a polite nod and a small smile.
The originally quiet classroom gradually filled with noise. The closer it got to morning reading time, the livelier it became. Finally, a figure appeared at the doorway. She entered slowly and steadily, passing through the crowd without haste.
She was wearing the school’s blue-and-white short-sleeved uniform. Her figure was slender and delicate. In her thin arms, she held a thick stack of textbooks. Her face was fair and clean, and her long black hair was gathered into a neat bundle at the back of her head.
Zhu Xingyan twirled the pen in his hand, his gaze unconsciously drifting forward. The blackboard sat right in the center, but his peripheral vision could not help capturing that figure bathed in morning light. In the shifting interplay of light and shadow, he watched that silhouette draw closer and closer to him.
Until it finally stopped and settled at the seat two rows ahead.
His eyes focused. He looked up and saw, not far away, the girl set her books down, pull out her chair, and sit as usual.
In that moment of daze, his line of sight instinctively measured the distance.
The space between her and him, which had once spanned more than half the classroom, was suddenly shortened — now only two sets of desks and chairs apart.
Later, when he thought back, that period was the longest continuous stretch Zhu Xingyan ever spent at school.
Two films had just wrapped, business events had come to a pause, the concert was still in early planning stages, and endorsement commitments were not too crowded.
In this sudden blank period, he went to class every day, living like a real high-school student.
Zhu Xingyan’s seat remained in the farthest corner of the classroom.
Sometimes he arrived early, sometimes he was absent in the afternoon. He still did not interact much with classmates, but occasionally after school he would play basketball with the boys.
Whenever he played, the sports ground became unusually lively. Students who had finished classes were reluctant to go home; they lingered with their schoolbags, eyes fixed on that figure on the court, cheering loudly every time he scored.
Dali was one of them. The moment she heard Zhu Xingyan was playing, she would immediately drop whatever she was doing, drag her friend along, and rush to the court — clapping, jumping, shouting, eyes sparkling as if stars had gathered inside them.
“So handsome ahhhhhhh!”
A beautiful three-pointer landed, and Dali could not hold back her scream. Her voice was so loud that even amid the noisy cheers it stood out clearly.
The boy in the white jersey lifted the hem of his shirt to wipe sweat, subtly turning his head in their direction.
Song Shiyue felt inexplicably embarrassed. She reached down and tugged at Dali’s sleeve, whispering,
“Dali, keep your voice down a little.”
“I can’t help it ….wuwuwu, Zhu Xingyan is too handsome! I officially declare that starting today he is my number-one male god — the most handsome male star in the entire entertainment industry!!”
“…………”
The excitement continued all the way until the game ended. Only then did the noise on the court slowly fade. People drifted away in small groups toward the school gate. Dali’s excited emotion finally calmed, and she pulled her friend straight toward the restroom.
“Moon, wait for me — I need the toilet, super urgent!”
Watching her hurried, flustered back, Song Shiyue stood under a tree and could not help but sigh.
The school, so lively just moments ago, seemed to fall quiet all at once. The evening sky glowed with a soft red haze, a gentle breeze brushed past, and orange light danced between the leaves.
She had just begun to relax when she heard faint, fragmented sounds coming from ahead — a nervous, hesitant voice.
“Zhu… Zhu classmate, this is a small cake I made myself. I hope you’ll try it.”
“I don’t mean anything else… I just saw you played basketball for so long, you probably haven’t had dinner yet, so…”
“Sorry, I don’t really like cake.”
Before the girl could finish her anxious words, the boy had already politely refused. His gentle tone carried the usual distance that always surrounded him.
In that moment, he transformed once again — from the approachable classmate on the basketball court back into the lofty, untouchable big star.
Or perhaps the approachable version had always been an illusion. He had forever been separated from them by an uncrossable chasm.
The girl opposite him showed clear sadness and disappointment, yet she restrained herself and did not continue to pester him. Holding back her sense of loss, she turned and left.
Zhu Xingyan watched her figure disappear. Then, unintentionally, he turned his head — and his eyes met those of Song Shiyue, who had been about to slip away quietly from under the tree.
Their gazes collided. The air suddenly stilled.
Song Shiyue carefully moved her foot back into place and gave him a small, cautious smile.
He seemed momentarily stunned. A beat later, he started walking toward her.
Now it was Song Shiyue’s turn to freeze.
“You still haven’t gone home?” Zhu Xingyan asked her, his expression calm and ordinary.
“Dali is in the restroom.”
He gave a slight nod, then his eyelashes lowered slightly, landing on the hand at her side that was holding a small bag.
“What’s that?”
“This… it’s the cake I bought at noon. I didn’t finish it.” Song Shiyue moved her hand uncomfortably and answered with some embarrassment.
“Oh.” Zhu Xingyan let out a soft sound. The air fell silent again. The two stood facing each other while the shadows of the surrounding trees swayed gently.
At that moment, Song Shiyue desperately wished Dali would come out soon — but things went contrary to her hopes. There was still no movement from the direction of the restroom after a long wait.
She was racking her brain for something to say when Zhu Xingyan’s voice sounded again.
“Is it good?”
“……?” Her mind went blank for a second.
“You… are you hungry?” After a pause, Song Shiyue asked hesitantly.
“Yeah.” The person in front of her answered without the slightest hesitation.
“There’s a small cake inside that hasn’t been touched yet.” Almost as if possessed, she held out the bag in her hand.
“Thank you.” Before Song Shiyue could even react, he had already reached out and taken it directly. His dark eyes remained calm as he politely thanked her.
……
By the time Dali came out, only Song Shiyue was left standing under the tree, dazed and lost in thought.
Dali wiped the water from her hands while jogging over; the schoolbag on her back bounced up and down with her steps.
“Moon Bao! I’m back!” Seeing Song Shiyue’s stunned expression, she could not resist waving her hand in front of her eyes. Song Shiyue snapped back to reality, took a quiet breath, and pressed her lips together.
“What’s wrong with you? You look completely soul-lost??” Dali leaned in close to study her face. Song Shiyue uncomfortably turned her eyes away and mumbled, “Nothing.”
They walked side by side toward the gate. After only a few steps, Dali suddenly realized something. She looked down in curiosity and confusion.
“Moon, where’s the little bag with the small cake that was in your hand?!”
“That… I was worried it wasn’t fresh anymore, so I didn’t want to take it home.”
“You threw it away?!”
“Sort of… yeah…”
“That’s kind of a waste, my treasure!”
“Sorry.”
“…Hahaha, Moon you’re so obedient it’s cute.”
“…………”
On the way home, Song Shiyue figured it out.
Zhu Xingyan probably wasn’t very familiar with that other girl and didn’t want to cause any unnecessary misunderstanding, so he had refused to accept her gift. Enjoying the story? Read on at novelping.com.
After all, they were classmates who had known each other for nearly a year and had some understanding of each other’s personalities.
She quickly let go of the small incident.
During the midday break, Zhang Feng asked her to hand out the math test papers early. At lunchtime, only a few scattered people remained in the classroom. Having just finished eating, she treated it as light exercise and slowly placed one test paper after another on the corresponding desks, holding the stack in her arms.
When she reached Zhu Xingyan’s desk, he was leaning back in his chair reading a book. It was the original English edition. Her glance swept past, and in the corner of her eye she caught a few letters on the cover: ORFEO.
“The test paper from last time’s exam.” She placed his paper on the desk, greeted him briefly, and continued to the next one.
“Thank you.” He responded with his usual polite thanks. Song Shiyue nodded as if it were nothing out of the ordinary. The two of them passed each other without any ripple of emotion.
On Sunday, Dali invited her to the library to borrow books.
Fanshi City Library was a major new project completed this year, with five full floors and an extensive collection.
After searching and borrowing the books she wanted one by one on the computer, Song Shiyue was about to log out when a certain word suddenly flashed through her mind. Her fingers paused for a few seconds before she typed the letters into the search box.
What came up instead was the Chinese translation, a white cover with the title Orfeo printed on it. The author was Richard Powers.
She hesitated for a moment, then pressed the borrow button.
That same evening when she got home, Song Shiyue could not resist opening the book. The Chinese translation was not too difficult to read, but the plot was strange and obscure. The protagonist was a composer with a background in chemistry who tried to make music immortal through biological experiments. Before falling asleep, she had just reached the part where the elderly musician escaped pursuit and began a reunion with his ex-wife.
There were large sections filled with professional descriptions of music. Song Shiyue found them strenuous to follow, yet she could not help being drawn in, as though she had pushed open a door she had never seen before.
Before sleeping, she tucked the book under her pillow. The next day when she went to school, Song Shiyue could not resist putting it in her schoolbag, sandwiched among a pile of textbooks and review materials so she could read it during spare moments in the day.
It was lunchtime again. Not many people were in the classroom; most had gone to eat or rest and had not yet returned.
Song Shiyue pulled out the book, laid it flat on her desk, and began reading. Time slipped away unnoticed. As class time approached, more students gradually returned. One girl happened to ask her for help checking answers on a test paper. Song Shiyue casually slipped a bookmark in, closed the book, and pushed it into her desk.
After they finished checking, a group of boys who usually hung out at the back of the classroom came through the doorway, dribbling a basketball and horsing around. As they passed Song Shiyue’s desk, someone gave a push. A tall boy bumped into her desk, knocking the books inside onto the floor in a scattered mess.
The boys hurried to apologize and clumsily helped her pick everything up and tidy it. At that moment Zhu Xingyan, who had just walked to his seat at the back, squatted down to help as well. When his fingers pressed against the white cover, Song Shiyue happened to arrive and saw the scene.
In the middle of the crowd, their eyes met. The noisy, chaotic classroom instantly fell silent like a still sea, yet inside Song Shiyue’s heart, waves crashed against the rocks again and again.
She held her breath for a moment, walked over, and tried to keep her expression normal as she took the book from his hand.
Only after she stood up and rearranged her desk did she realize she had forgotten to say thank you.
The level of embarrassment this incident caused could be called the greatest Song Shiyue had ever experienced.
She could no longer deliberately ignore it. Even if she explained it with the most genuine curiosity, she still could not explain where that curiosity came from.
Curiosity from an ordinary person toward a big star? Or curiosity between classmates?
No matter which it was, she felt as though she had been a rat hiding in the underground sewers, suddenly grabbed and dragged out into the daylight.
This directly led to the next day at school, when she ran into Zhu Xingyan in the corridor, Song Shiyue avoided his eyes, lowered her head in shame, and wished she could find a hole to crawl into.
“Song classmate.” In the corridor, the person opposite suddenly called out to her—not the usual “Class monitor,” but a polite and somewhat gentle form of address.
Song Shiyue looked up at him and pressed her lips together uncomfortably.
“What is it?”
“Yesterday I accidentally saw a book in your desk. It happens to be the Chinese translation of the original I’ve been reading recently.” He mentioned it in his usual calm tone, yet Song Shiyue’s heart leapt into her throat. In her nervousness, the sword of Damocles finally fell.
“The original version might be more vivid and detailed. I’ve just finished it. If you’re interested, I can lend it to you. It should also help you build up your reading volume.”
A perfectly reasonable statement. There was nothing unusual in Zhu Xingyan’s expression—his eyes remained dark, clear, and calm, his tone natural and even.
Song Shiyue felt a surge of shame inside. After quietly steadying herself for a few seconds, she still chose to lay everything bare.
“I’m sorry. Actually, that day I accidentally saw the cover of your book, so I got curious and borrowed it from the library.”
“I don’t know how to explain this kind of curiosity. Maybe it’s an ordinary person’s curiosity toward a big star, or maybe it’s curiosity between classmates.” She struggled to lift her head and look straight into his eyes.
“But I still have to apologize. I invaded your privacy.”
A faint trace of surprise seemed to flicker in Zhu Xingyan’s eyes.
After a long moment, his eyelashes moved slightly and he lowered his gaze.
“It’s fine.” In the empty corridor, the voice that fell beside her ear at that moment was like a gentle breeze brushing through leaves—soft, rustling, and pleasant to hear.
“You can keep that curiosity.”