Su Yunluo suddenly stood up.
She had been afraid of the dark ever since she was little. And now, standing in this countryside field, that fear felt even stronger. In the distance, under the pale moonlight, faint outlines of graves could be seen. She wrapped her arms tightly around herself and looked toward the village.
Among the scattered lights, her grandmother’s courtyard was still brightly lit. Laughter and the clinking of glasses drifted faintly across the fields—blurred, but lively.
No one had come looking for her.
Not a single person at the celebration for the boy’s first birthday had noticed that their daughter was missing.
Su Yunluo collapsed back into the grass and finally broke down in tears.
All her anger, grievance, and fear—everything collapsed into a hollow emptiness in that moment.
That night, she ran all the way back while crying. She rushed into the bright courtyard, but still, no one noticed her red, swollen eyes.
From that night on, everyone realized something had changed in her.
All the sweetness and brightness that once belonged to the little princess suddenly disappeared. She became quieter, but sharper—like she had thorns all over her. She didn’t talk much, but every time she did, there was hostility in her voice—aimed at her parents, her grandmother, even her younger brother.
But all she ever received in return was helpless scolding.
“Why are you so unreasonable? Can’t you just let your younger brother be?”
Su Yunluo looked at them coldly and asked, “Am I the unreasonable one, or are you? Why are you all so biased?”
Her mother tried to explain, “We’re not biased. Parents treat all their children the same.”
“The same?” Su Yunluo gave a cold laugh. “Do you even understand what ‘the same’ means?”
Every time she said that, her mother would fall silent and could not bring herself to scold her further.
And after that, Su Yunluo also stopped talking.
She never again ran into anyone’s arms. Never again acted spoiled or sweet.
When she grew older, she once read a sentence:
After marriage, a girl has no home anymore. Her husband’s family is not her home, and her parents’ home no longer feels like home either.
But even then, she still envied those girls.
Because there was another kind of girl—one who never had a home from the very beginning.
In reality, and even on the household registry where she was listed as an “adopted daughter,” she never truly belonged to that family.
She spent her entire childhood searching for an answer to why she had been “cast aside.” Was she not obedient enough? Not good enough? Or were her parents simply too busy?
But in the end, the answer was painfully simple—it was only because she was not a boy.
During her first two years of middle school, her parents, perhaps out of a sense of compensation, enrolled her in many interest classes. Su Yunluo actually liked that arrangement. She would rather spend her weekends moving from one class to another than go home. And when she entered high school—even though her school was only fifteen minutes from home—she still chose to live in the dormitory.
Ironically, she had only been passionate about studying during her early years in the small town. After moving to Liang City, she struggled to adapt to the pace and environment, and her grades quickly dropped. She didn’t achieve much in those interest classes either. The only thing she stuck with was the xiao flute, because its lonely, hollow sound matched her mood at the time.
But her increasingly quiet personality had one advantage—she could sit at her desk for long periods. The words and formulas piling up day after day slowly pushed her grades back up, like a tide returning after the water had receded. By the time of the high school entrance exam, she unexpectedly became a dark horse.
That was the first time since returning to Liang City that she felt what it was like to be noticed. Even her parents—who had always been focused on her younger brother—mentioned her results to others that summer.
On the surface, Su Yunluo stayed calm, but inside, something was surging violently.
So it turned out… there were still things that could make people look at her.
The students in front and behind were still talking. Teacher Sun’s voice drifted in broken fragments into her ears.
Su Yunluo’s fingertips slowly turned cold.
So even in high school, she still had to hear this kind of talk—that girls are not as good as boys.
Why was the top student in the neighboring class automatically assumed to be better than her in the future?
Just because he was a boy?
She suddenly raised her head toward the corridor and said clearly, “Teacher Sun, I don’t agree with what you just said.”
“If the student from Class Five, Xie Chen, is really that good, then let him get first place in the grade before you say something like that.”
Her voice was crisp and firm. Teacher Sun hadn’t expected that even though he had lowered his voice, a student would still hear him, and he froze for a moment.
But from the back window of Class Five, a reaction had already started.
At fifteen or sixteen, an age that loves excitement, a few boys immediately began teasing:
“Oh? Is this a challenge?”
“Don’t worry about whether Xie will get first place—can your class’s top student even get first?”
“Forget first place for now. Let’s just see who does better in the first monthly exam!”
“Where’s Xie?”
“He went to the office to deliver homework!”
After half a month of military training, Xie Chen had clearly already gotten along well with the boys in the class. They either called him “Little Xie” or “Brother Chen.”
The girls in Class Six had already been holding in their frustration. Seeing the other side act so arrogantly, they could no longer sit still. In an instant, a whole group stood up.
“Whoever backs down is a dog!”
“Yunluo, don’t be afraid, just compete with him!”
“Your entrance score was higher than his anyway—what are you afraid of!”
Even the boys in Class Six stopped caring about gender differences.
“Su Yunluo, we support you!”
Someone even shouted toward the two homeroom teachers:
“Teachers, say something!”
“Teacher Sun, why aren’t you saying anything? Are you afraid to respond?”
Teacher Song looked at the scene, unsure whether to laugh or cry. He turned to Su Yunluo.
“Do you really want to compete with him?”
At that moment, Su Yunluo felt it—all the gazes in Class Six, and even from the neighboring class, were suddenly on her.
Maybe it was confidence from her recent results. Or maybe Teacher Sun’s words had struck something deep inside her. Either way, a stubborn fire rose in her that she could not suppress.
Looking at Teacher Song, she said clearly,
“Yes. Let him come.”
“Good!”
Teacher Sun gave her a thumbs-up, then turned to Teacher Song.
“Looks like I really was biased. Your student is quite bold! Since we’re competing, let’s make it official. Tomorrow morning during reading session, Xie Chen can come to your class and formally issue the challenge.”
Teacher Song, caught up in the excitement, agreed without asking Su Yunluo again.
“Fine! Class Six will take it on! If we lose, what then?”
The students from both classes immediately began shouting ideas.
“The losing side has to perform a show in the other class!”
“If they don’t have talent, they still have to perform!”
“The losing class has to clean the winning class for a month!”
“We agree!”
“We have no objections!”
Both classrooms erupted in cheers and whistles. Some even banged their desks in excitement.
Amid the noise, Su Yunluo slowly calmed down. Her thoughts drifted back to the opponent still in the office.
Xie Chen. Xie Chen.
She silently repeated the name. It sounded a little familiar.
But she couldn’t remember where she had heard it before.
It couldn’t have been at school. During military training, the five classes were separated into different groups, and Class Five and Class Six trained in different areas. They hadn’t even seen each other for half a month.
While she was still thinking, a commotion suddenly broke out at the door of Class Five. Several boys shouted loudly.
“Xie’s back!”
“Xie, Teacher Sun wants you to go to Class Six to deliver the challenge!”
A calm, polite teenage voice cut through the noise.
“What challenge?”