Jiang Yueming munched on a jianbing in one hand while the other was being held by Xia He as she led him forward.

He actually didn't like eating breakfast and had no such habit, but just now Xia He had brought him over and insisted he eat something.

Their walking pace was a bit uneven. Actually, it was mainly Jiang Yueming's steps that were unsteady, because Xia He had been holding his hand from the moment they met, and it seemed their hands had been intertwined ever since without letting go.

Jiang Yueming looked down at Xia He, guiding him along. Their clasped hands were a bit warm. Unaccustomed to it, he gently tried to pull free, but couldn't break loose.

Only his mother had ever led him like this, afraid he'd get lost in a crowded place. The girl before him now was the same, gripping his hand tightly, as if fearful he might run off at any moment if she wasn't careful.

"Where are we going now?"

"Guess."

Jiang Yueming couldn't guess. In the two years he'd been in this city, his radius of activity comprised school, the internet café, and home—a three-point straight line.

Occasionally Dong Ziyang would drag him out for barbecue, but that was on the street right outside the school gate, no more than three kilometers round trip. He was like a domesticated cat, circling only within his familiar territory, never venturing beyond.

"I don't know."

He answered honestly. His wooden expression made Xia He want to laugh.

"Why do you look so spaced out?"

"Spaced out?"

"Spaced out."

Jiang Yueming shrugged. It was the first time he'd heard someone describe him as "spaced out," but it was probably because he still wasn't familiar with Xia He.

‘Speaking of unfamiliarity…’

Jiang Yueming glanced down at their clasped hands.

"Isn't it a bit... inappropriate if someone we know sees us like this?"

He was all too aware of the rumor-mongering talents of the loudmouths in his class. Especially that fellow Dong Ziyang, who never had a filter all day long and possessed a unique talent for spinning tales.

During class, he listened to Dong Ziyang's outlandish stories all the time. His own poor grades definitely owed an indelible debt to that contribution.

Xia He turned her head back and blinked, glancing at their joined hands, a slight smile on her face.

"What's wrong? I'm not the one complaining, so why is a big guy like you getting all shy?"

"That's not it. I just mean, you're a girl. If people from school see us, they'll spread gossip and it won't be good for your reputation."

"How is it not good?"

Her counter-question stunned Jiang Yueming into silence.

"Are you afraid that if others see us and spread the word that we're together, it'll ruin your chances with other girls?"

Jiang Yueming hesitated briefly.

Admittedly, that thought had crossed his mind. He really was worried that if Wen Xiaoyu happened to see this, it might cause some unnecessary misunderstandings.

His hesitation made Xia He furrow her brows slightly.

"Is there someone you like?"

"I wouldn't exactly call it liking..."

He thought of Wen Xiaoyu's silhouette, that girl with the braided pigtails sitting quietly by the window, whom he'd been secretly watching for a whole semester without daring to say more than a few words.

Did that count as liking? He couldn't say for sure.

Jiang Yueming shook his head, dismissing those messy thoughts.

"Why am I even talking to you about this? Anyway, where exactly are we going?"

Xia He's fingers unconsciously tightened, gripping Jiang Yueming's hand even harder.

She looked at him. He stood before her, holding her hand, yet his heart was thinking of someone else.

He even seemed somewhat awkwardly shy, like someone whose innermost thoughts had just been exposed and was now hastily trying to cover them up.

‘Very cute.’

She had never seen this side of him before—green, immature, carrying that unique youthful awkwardness toward romance.

She loved it, but she was also very disappointed.

Because it was the first time she had ever witnessed it.

Long, long ago, this side of him had belonged to someone else. When they had fallen in love, Jiang Yueming had already passed that fervent, innocent stage.

His first flutter of the heart, his vague fantasies of love, his nervousness, his clumsiness, his sweaty palms the first time he held a girl's hand—all of that had belonged to someone else before her.

He had a first love, but it hadn't been her, Xia He.

This had always been a thorn in Xia He's heart. The person she deeply loved had once loved another.

By the time she finally got her wish and was together with Jiang Yueming, he was no longer a boy with a blank slate regarding love.

He was considerate and gentle, humorous and charming, and he managed the boundaries within their relationship with great finesse.

Yet Xia He could never truly be happy about it.

There was no clumsy fumbling, no earth-shattering friction—only the maturity of someone experienced, solving their emotional issues in the most rational manner.

The person she loved had a past.

Her fingertips slowly tightened, even causing Jiang Yueming to furrow his brow slightly.

A sudden impulse surged within Xia He. She couldn't quite name what she wanted to do, but she just couldn't bear to see Jiang Yueming like this.

She wanted his eyes on her alone. She wanted to be the one greeting him as he first pushed open the door to love, and the last image reflected in his pupils before his final, dying breath.

Xia He didn't want to be just a chapter in his life's journey. She wanted his gaze, from beginning to end, to hold only the shadow of herself.

One and only, eternal.

The impulse quickly faded. She remembered Jiang Yueming saying to her that day, We can start as friends first.

Xia He took a deep breath and, with difficulty, forced a teasing tone.

"Sounds like there really is someone you like, huh? Who is it? Tell me."

Her hand still hadn't let go. She held him tightly, her steps quickening. It didn't seem like she wanted to stop and properly discuss this topic; rather, it seemed like she was fleeing.

As she walked, the strength in her hand grew heavier, so heavy that Jiang Yueming couldn't ignore it, and there was even a slight tremor.

Xia He didn't know what she was afraid of. Afraid he would say that name? Afraid that name wasn't hers?

Jiang Yueming's footsteps faltered. He could tell the girl before him was angry, but he didn't understand why.

The two quickly traversed the wide street and arrived at the entrance of a bookstore.

Xia He stopped. Jiang Yueming looked up.

Before him was a modest bookstore. Behind its floor-to-ceiling windows stretched a long table that spanned the entire width of the shop, lined with high stools. He could see a few people seated there, reading while facing outward toward the street.

It seemed this was the first stop of the day. But Jiang Yueming was somewhat surprised—why come to a bookstore on a holiday?

"Xia He?"

"Hmm?"

"Nothing, it's just... you're holding on a bit too tight."

Jiang Yueming gestured toward his hand. Xia He acted like she didn't notice.

"Oh, is that so? I get nervous in crowded places. I just like to hold onto something. Bear with it for a bit."

Jiang Yueming felt that holding hands with a girl like her was hardly a burden. How many people would wish for the chance but couldn't get it? The only minor flaw was that her grip was a bit too tight, which was a little uncomfortable.

Xia He sensed his thought.

Her fingers loosened slightly. Her palm rotated half a turn before her fingers interlaced with his one by one, changing their posture from a simple clasp to interlocking fingers.

The intimate gesture made Jiang Yueming freeze stiff instantly. He had never been in such close contact with a girl before.

"Is this better?"

Xia He smiled slyly. That smile looked so vibrant and spirited.

Behind the bookstore glass, passersby cast glances their way. They first marveled at the astonishing beauty of this young girl who had suddenly appeared. Then their gaze drifted downward to her interlocked fingers with a man, and their mouths twisted with a hint of disdain.

Flaunting their romance all the way out here?

How infuriating.

Jiang Yueming was deeply startled, staring blankly at Xia He.

Just as Xia He was about to say something, she saw the look in Jiang Yueming's eyes toward her suddenly change. Then his hand was flung free.

Shocked, Xia He suddenly realized Jiang Yueming's gaze wasn't on her, but was focused behind her.

"Wen Xiaoyu?"

She heard him speak in a fluster.

Turning her head, she saw a girl pushing open the bookstore door, holding books in her arms.

Braided pigtails, white shirt.

Jiang Yueming's eyes met hers, filled with bewildered panic.

Xia He watched Jiang Yueming's expression—as if he wanted to explain but had no grounds to do so—then looked down at her own now-empty hand.

She had never found this girl named Wen Xiaoyu so utterly detestable before.