“I’ll give you a ride home.” Zhao Nanzhuo appeared behind her at some point, glancing at the skirt she was wearing, and said with concern. Qianye instinctively searched for Han Chao’s figure around Zhao Nanzhuo, and sure enough, Han Chao noticed her and gave her a friendly smile.

Qianye’s heart was struck hard. She couldn’t forget it—the softest autumn sunlight at noon, and yet, she saw shadows. Han Chao was holding his bike, standing next to a girl in an aerobics skirt, just like Qianye. This girl wasn’t Zhou Manwei or Zhou Ran, and before this, Qianye had no impression of her.

The girl seemed to notice Qianye’s gaze and politely introduced herself.

“I’m Si Ru. Qianye, I remember you. I was in the two rows behind you during the aerobics practice.”

A wave of sadness swept over Qianye. In every fairy tale, she had always naively believed that if the prince didn’t love her, he must have fallen for the beautiful princess. She thought if Han Chao was to fall for someone, it would likely be a girl like Zhou Manwei, someone who seemed worthy of him. But now, here he was, with an ordinary girl by his side, someone perhaps even less outstanding than herself. Faced with the same defeat, Qianye would rather lose to someone stronger.

She fidgeted with unease throughout the ride. Sitting in the back seat of Zhao Nanzhuo’s car, her hands tightly gripped the wire underneath the seat, afraid to touch Zhao Nanzhuo, yet also worried about falling.

Meanwhile, Si Ru, who was sitting behind Han Chao, casually wrapped her arms around his waist. Han Chao didn’t reject her, and they looked very much like a couple.

The scenery along the way seemed to wither. The wind chilled her legs, and tears welled up in her eyes. She had once thought she could always remain his audience, but now he had found his own heroine.

Qianye rested her head against Zhao Nanzhuo’s back, afraid that Si Ru might see her tears. Fortunately, not long after, Zhao Nanzhuo made a left turn, bidding Han Chao farewell. The two bikes veered off in different directions.

When they arrived home, the adults were conveniently absent, and Zhao Nanzhuo opened the door. That day, Zhao Nanzhuo was also wearing a crisp white shirt and a tie. The same elegant young man—yet now that he was right in front of her, she felt unmoved. Qianye’s tears flowed uncontrollably, and he must have noticed. She didn’t want anyone to see her secrets. Those were her pride and her restraint.

The lights in the house flickered on as he opened them. Through the blur of her tears, everything seemed dizzying. He looked at her. Her eyes were hollow and sorrowful, and the wind outside brushed through her dark hair, mixing with her tears and dampening her cheeks.

Such desolation—her short life of just over ten years had already felt this desolate. Zhao Nanzhuo’s eyes flashed with changing emotions. He walked toward her, firmly embracing Qianye. His palms could feel the warmth of her body through her thin shirt. In that moment, he was deeply captivated, not caring about the consequences of taking that step.

“I don’t know why you llike him,” Zhao Nanzhuo said seriously, looking her in the eyes for the first time, his words full of the faint maturity that boys of his age had. “As a friend, I have to say that he is indeed perfect and outstanding, always so composed about everything. But isn’t a guy who is always so composed actually a bit heartless?”

Qianye smiled faintly at him. “Thank you.”

“But love is always the pain of not wanting to let go,” Zhao Nanzhuo added softly.

After that, neither of them spoke. Between Qianye and Zhao Nanzhuo, it seemed as though a tacit understanding had formed. They both knew each other’s hearts, yet neither of them mentioned it again.

After that day, Zhao Nanzhuo intentionally helped Qianye increase the chances for them to meet. Whenever he and Han Chao rode their bikes home together, he would pass by her class and wait for her. Qianye would be in the middle, with Han Chao and Zhao Nanzhuo riding on either side of her, as they made their way home every day after school. This became the posture of their youth—a picture of walking side by side, two pure young boys.

“Thank you, Nanzhuo.” She gazed out the window at the soft starlight, feeling a touch of emotion. She was grateful for his parents, for taking her in, and for his support.

How could she, of all people, deserve his affection? Zhao Nanzhuo, with his usual carefree attitude, waved it off and headed toward the bathroom.