Chapter 12: The Official Start of School  

The cicadas still chirped noisily in the treetops, but the oppressive heat of military training had faded.  

After the training ended, Lin Yumo followed the crowd into the uniform distribution center.  

The ceiling fan inside creaked as it spun, stirring the faint scent of printer’s ink. When the staff handed her the neatly folded blue-and-white uniform, the fabric still carried the crisp stiffness of something fresh from the factory.  

Lin Yumo held the blue-and-white uniform against herself, checking her reflection. The girl in the mirror had delicate features, and the collarbone peeking out from the uniform’s neckline was as finely sculpted as porcelain.  

“Little Jasmine~” Song Xingran suddenly wrapped her arms around Lin Yumo’s waist from behind, resting her chin affectionately on her shoulder.  

“You look even better in this than in your military training uniform!” She waved her phone mysteriously. “I just got some major news—”  

Lin Yumo couldn’t help but laugh at Song Xingran’s exaggerated secrecy, her eyes crinkling into a lovely curve.  

She tilted her head, feigning curiosity. “What is it? Don’t keep me in suspense!”  

Song Xingran straightened up, her face brimming with pride. “There’s a freshman welcome ceremony tomorrow morning, and Lord of Zero is giving a speech!”  

Her voice unconsciously rose when she said “Lord of Zero,” unable to hide her excitement.  

Lin Yumo calmly folded her uniform away, a faint smile playing at her lips. “You’re so interested in him, yet you still say you don’t like him?”  

Outside the corridor, the camphor trees rustled, and the sunlight filtering through danced in fragmented spots on Song Xingran’s blue-and-white uniform.  

She tilted her head, her hair brushing against Lin Yumo’s neck, a mint-scented chuckle escaping her lips. “You don’t get it. I can’t explain the feeling—I don’t want to be with him, but I can’t help paying attention to him.”  

As she spoke, she reached out to adjust Lin Yumo’s hair, her fingers lightly tracing the strands.  

“Maybe the moon is just too far out of reach. My heart’s already sentenced me to defeat, so I’ve long since ruled him out as a potential boyfriend.”  

She suddenly let out a self-deprecating laugh. “Ugh, what am I even saying? None of this makes sense.”  

Lin Yumo watched the shadows cast by her friend’s eyelashes and suddenly remembered how Song Xingran had secretly taken pictures of Chi Miao’s back during military training.  

Before she could speak, Song Xingran straightened her posture, her smile brightening again. “Ah, Little Jasmine, what I mean is—he’s not my future.”  

A stray lock of hair curled and settled back into place.  

The wind swept through the corridor, lifting Lin Yumo’s hair. As she gazed at the light flickering in Song Xingran’s eyes, she suddenly felt the scene overlap with a memory—her past self, buried under blankets late at night, staring at a crush’s photo on her phone.  

“Are you really okay with it?” The words slipped out, laced with cautious hesitation.  

Song Xingran froze for a moment before bursting into laughter, startling the sparrows perched in the trees.  

She threw an arm around Lin Yumo’s shoulders, squeezing tightly as if trying to pour all her emotions into the hug. “I’ve already made peace with it—that’s why I can tell you. It’s just admiration, like for an idol.”  

Her fingers absently twirled the ends of her ponytail. “I know he’ll never know the real me, so I can like him freely without any expectations.”

Her gaze drifted into the distance, the setting sun casting a soft golden halo on her profile. “Some views are best admired from afar. If you insist on plucking the moon, you might just fall hard.”

Listening to Song Xingran’s words, Lin Yumo began to understand. Perhaps the sunlight was too scorching, the moonlight too distant—insecurity was a ditch every unrequited lover needed to cross. But when that ditch became a chasm, and no amount of effort could bridge it, the thought wasn’t to push forward anymore, but to retreat—to find another path around the abyss.

Lin Yumo parted her lips slightly, then swallowed the words that had risen to her tongue.

She knew some knots could only be untangled by oneself. No amount of comfort could ease this bittersweet, tangled emotion.

The evening breeze brushed past her hair, carrying the first chill of early autumn, yet it couldn’t disperse the melancholy in her eyes.

Watching Song Xingran’s deliberately carefree smile beside her, Lin Yumo’s thoughts wandered uncontrollably. And what about herself?

In her past life, she had carefully hidden her feelings for Chi Miao in the depths of her heart, silently observing his every move, yet never daring to take that step.

This lifetime, fate had given her a chance to start over, but faced with these emotions, she still wandered as if in a fog, uncertain how to choose.

Should she, like Song Xingran, transform this affection into distant admiration? Or gather the courage to reach for that seemingly unattainable light?

Ah, forget it—focus on yourself. The gears of fate turn along their own path. What can’t be forced should be let go. This lifetime, the most important thing is yourself, isn’t it?

The night wind swept by, carrying the distinctive chill of early autumn. The shadows of the two girls gradually melted into the twilight—one light and skipping, the other still as water.

……

The next day, school officially began.

September morning light filtered through the gaps in the camphor trees, casting coin-like spots of light on the blue-and-white school uniforms.

Lin Yumo walked into the classroom with light steps. Few students had arrived yet. Setting down her backpack, she began her morning study plan.

When Song Xingran slipped in just as the class bell rang, chalk dust was already fluttering from Teacher Zhang’s fingers, weaving into a fine mist before the lectern.

The homeroom teacher’s leather shoes tapped crisply against the podium. “I’m your math teacher and also your homeroom teacher.”

The chalk characters for “Class 7, Grade 10” on the blackboard still glistened with moisture. Teacher Zhang adjusted his black-framed glasses, the reflected light sweeping over the whispering students below.

“Let me start with some motivational words—” he suddenly smiled, “High school isn’t the finish line—it’s a new starting point. I hope three years from now, you’ll all walk out of the college entrance exam hall with smiles.”

His gaze swept across the class, lingering an extra second when it reached Lin Yumo.

“The monthly exam is on September 28th,” Teacher Zhang’s voice cut through her thoughts.

The chalk screeched sharply against the blackboard as the date was circled in bright red—a bullseye targeting Lin Yumo’s nerves.

She heard sharp intakes of breath from the back rows.

Under the desk, Song Xingran secretly poked Lin Yumo’s wrist. On her scratch paper was a frowning face with the words: “Exams right after school starts! Devils!”

The cicadas outside the window suddenly seemed shrill, but Lin Yumo kept staring at that red circle.

Chalk dust swirled in the sunlight as Teacher Zhang abruptly rapped the lectern hard.

“Alright, stop arguing. Let’s begin the class officer elections now.” As he turned around, the hem of his navy blue suit brushed against the edge of the blackboard, causing the freshly written “Class 7, Grade 10” to shed tiny chalk fragments.  

The chalk moved swiftly across the blackboard, leaving sharp, decisive strokes as it wrote “Class President, Academic Committee Member, Subject Representatives,” and other positions.