Genius Club

Chapter)

“Xin Xin, how are you getting used to the new school?” Tang Xin’s mother asked as she set the freshly heated breakfast on the table.

“Not very well,” Tang Xin replied, flipping her short, chin-length hair, releasing a hint of her favorite shampoo’s fragrance into the air. But the familiar scent didn’t lift her spirits about going to school. “I’m a transfer student, Mom, and I joined in the middle of my sophomore year. Even if the classes were reshuffled, most of the students are already friends from freshman year. They have their groups. I don’t know anyone.”

Her father, reading the newspaper on the couch, let out a small chuckle. He put the paper down and adjusted his glasses. “Take your time, Xin Xin. It’s only been two days since school started. It’s perfectly normal to not be familiar with everyone yet.”

“We moved here because of my job transfer. It couldn’t be helped. Besides, Hangzhou First High is the best in the city—I made sure before getting you in. The teachers here are top-notch too, especially your class advisor. Trust me, this is a good thing. Try to understand, and be patient, okay?”

Tang Xin huffed, eating her fried egg in silence. “Sure, but it’s not like any of that matters now, does it? Anyway, you’re always moving around for work. I changed elementary schools three times, middle school twice. Who knows if I’ll even finish high school here in Hangzhou?”

“What about my brother?” she asked, curious. “Are you going to move him to a middle school in Hangzhou too?”

Her father sighed, his expression showing a hint of worry. “Your brother isn’t like you, Xin Xin. He doesn’t take school seriously. If no one watches him, he gets into trouble. For now, it’s better for him to stay with your grandparents. At least they can keep an eye on him. Your mom and I are both busy here, and I trust your self-discipline, but your brother… let’s just say he’d go wild if we brought him here without supervision.”

Her mother took off her apron, hanging it over the back of a chair. “Alright, enough chatting. You both need to get going.”

Tang Xin nodded, finishing the last bite of her breakfast before standing up. But… something felt off. She rubbed her stomach and looked at her mom. “The milk… Are you sure it was fully heated?”

Her mother smiled. “Of course. I made sure it was heated and then let it cool to just the right temperature for you. I wanted you to get a little extra sleep, you know? Now hurry along. As a new student, you don’t want to be late and make a bad impression.”

“Got it.” Tang Xin grabbed her school bag, stopping by the door to check herself in the mirror, adjusting her bangs before heading out to school. Her father had found them a place close to the school—just a short ten-minute walk. Very convenient.

…

It was her third day at the new school. During P.E. class that morning, a few girls from her class approached her.

“Tang Xin, want to join us for badminton?”

They were friendly, inviting her with warm smiles. Tang Xin blushed, stepping back slightly and fiddling with her pant seam. “No… no, thanks. I’m a bit tired. I think I’ll rest for a while.”

“Oh, alright then. Just come over if you change your mind. Don’t be shy!” One of the girls waved before they left to join the others.

Tang Xin sighed, her heart heavy. What should she do? She thought she had more time, but her period had come early—way earlier than expected. She hadn’t been prepared at all. Looking around, she felt her heart pound faster. Even though she couldn’t see behind her, she knew—she could feel it—the blood had soaked through, staining her pants. It must be obvious.

It was mortifying.

The moment she realized it, she’d slowly backed up toward the wall that bordered the sports field, leaning her back against it so no one could see. But what was she supposed to do next? Her mind raced. She could call her parents to pick her up, but there was still time before class ended. Once everyone started heading back to the classroom, they’d see… they’d all see the stain on her pants. Just thinking about it made her face heat up. Her heart pounded in her ears, her breathing growing faster. She was so nervous that her head felt light, and her stomach hurt even more.

Tang Xin swayed, her vision blurring as she started to fall backward.

Suddenly, she felt strong hands on her shoulders, steadying her.

Fear overwhelmed her gratitude. She spun around in shock, her eyes wide. Oh no! Someone saw! But then she realized… if she turned this way, more people on the field would see her, would see the stain. She quickly turned back, mumbling in a flustered voice. “Sorry… I mean, thank you, I…”

Before she could finish, the boy standing behind her moved closer, unfurling his school jacket. He pulled up his sleeves, wrapped the jacket around her waist, and tied the sleeves at the front in a neat knot.

“Huh?” Tang Xin blinked, surprised.

Before she even realized it, he’d wrapped his jacket around her waist in one swift, confident move. It hung like a skirt, covering the stain entirely. Tang Xin’s face flushed. He had seen, but instead of saying anything, he’d helped her. He’d protected her dignity with a simple gesture—something so small, yet it meant everything to her at that moment.

“Th-thank you…”

Before she could say more, another wave of pain hit her. She winced, clutching her stomach as she bent slightly.

“Does it hurt a lot?” the boy asked, his voice gentle.

Tang Xin couldn’t speak. She just nodded, biting her lip.

“Here.” He smiled, holding out a piece of candy—an Alpenliebe lollipop. “Have a candy. It’ll help.”

He pressed the lollipop into her hand, then jogged off towards the basketball hoop where another boy was waiting.

The boy waiting, who was on the chubbier side, wiped his sweat and called out, “What took you so long? What did you buy?”

The tall boy waved the second lollipop he had. “Alpenliebe.”

He quickly unwrapped it and popped it into his mouth.

The chubby boy looked confused. “Where’s mine?!”

“I only had enough for one,” the tall boy said casually.

“That’s a lie! Everyone knows they’re fifty cents each!”

“They raised the price.”

“Yeah, right! Give me my money back!”

Tang Xin watched them go, her pain easing slightly. She slowly straightened up, looking at the crumpled lollipop in her hand. She held it tightly as if it were something precious.

…

The next day, Tang Xin came to school early, carrying a branded gift bag with the boy’s freshly washed school jacket inside. The classroom was still empty. She neatly folded the jacket and placed it on his desk. On top of the stack of books beside his desk, she saw his name written—Lin Xian.

“Thank you…” she whispered. But even then, she felt embarrassed, her face heating up. She couldn’t bring herself to thank him in person, so she left it at that for now. But there would be another opportunity, right? High school was two years long. She would definitely get the chance to befriend her classmates and Lin Xian. When they got closer, she’d thank him properly.

The morning bell rang, and classes began. The day went by quickly, and soon it was the afternoon homeroom session. Their teacher had organized a vote for class representatives. Surprisingly, the chubby boy from yesterday—Gao Yang—was elected class president by an overwhelming number of votes.

“Thank you, everyone, for your support!” Gao Yang said as he stood at the front, full of determination. “My grades might not be great, but I’ll do my best to be a good class president! I’ve created a class group chat on QQ so that we can stay in touch and communicate about any class-related matters. I’ll write the group number on the board, so make sure to join.”

Gao Yang turned to the blackboard, writing an eight-digit group number with the chalk.

Tang Xin discreetly took out her phone, searching for the number on QQ and finding the group—”Forever Class 17!” She tapped on the button to join.

…

That evening, Tang Xin sat on the couch, scrolling through her phone as the notifications from the group chat came in nonstop. Everyone was chatting away, and it was lively. For her, a transfer student, this was the best way to get to know her classmates.

A new message popped up from someone using an anime avatar with the username “Lin Xian.” It was just a sticker, but it immediately became the center of attention in the chat.

“Is he famous or something?” Tang Xin blinked, scrolling back through the chat history. Sure enough, Lin Xian seemed to be quite popular in school. The girls adored him, and even the boys admired him. He had a good reputation, was always kind, and often helped others.

What surprised Tang Xin the most was…

“Champion of the Hangzhou Youth Parkour League?”

Her eyes widened. “He’s that amazing?”

She looked up at the chandelier in her living room, picturing Lin Xian’s lean, athletic build. Yes… it made sense now. His physique was impressive—strong and defined. The thought made her blush as she continued browsing the group chat, her fingers scrolling faster as if searching for something.

She skimmed over most messages quickly, uninterested in the topics, until she found a message from Lin Xian or about him. Then, her scrolling would stop, and she’d read every word carefully.

“He really is… so incredible,” she whispered to herself, smiling.

…

“What?!” Tang Xin suddenly stood up from her chair in the living room, staring at her father in disbelief. “Your job is being transferred again? To America?!”

She took a deep breath, trying to stay calm. “We just got to Hangzhou!”

Her father sighed, smiling as he explained, “There’s an issue with our North American branch. The head manager was dismissed, and someone needs to step in. The company trusts me, so they’re sending me over as the new regional head. This is a big opportunity for me, Xin Xin.”

“But…” Tang Xin struggled to find the right words. “I’ve only been at Hangzhou First High for a week. Do I have to transfer again?”

“It’ll be good for you to study in the U.S.,” her mother said, joining them from the kitchen. “We’ve thought about it, Xin Xin. You’ve only been at this school for a short time. You haven’t had a chance to make close friends yet, so it won’t be too hard.”

“Exactly,” her father agreed. “You barely know anyone after just a week. It’s not like leaving now will be heartbreaking. You even said it yourself—we’re used to moving. Besides, I promise this will be the last transfer. I’ll be stationed in America for a long time, so you’ll be able to finish high school there and even apply to universities if you want. I won’t make you move again after this—unless they promote me to Mars!” He laughed.

Her father’s promotion brought her mother joy, but Tang Xin felt an uneasy mix of emotions. She’d thought she would be able to spend two peaceful years in Hangzhou, making friends… getting to know Lin Xian.

“Hm?” Her father’s voice broke her thoughts. “What’s wrong, Xin Xin? Have you already made friends? Are you sad to leave them?”

He smiled kindly. “If you’ve made friends, we can have a little going-away party. You can invite them, and we’ll treat everyone to dinner. Even though you’ll be far away, you can always keep in touch, send gifts…”

Tang Xin didn’t say anything. Friends… could she even call them that? They’d barely talked—only exchanged a couple of words. They weren’t close, not even QQ friends. To Lin Xian, she was probably just one of the many people he’d helped out of kindness. He likely wouldn’t remember her at all after some time. He had so many friends, so many people admiring him. How could she compare?

Even so… she didn’t want to leave.

“Can… can I stay?” she asked, her voice small. “I can live here on my own. I could stay in the dorms… I’ll work hard, I promise. Please, let me stay.”

Her parents exchanged glances, confused as to why she was so attached to this school after only a few days. But there was no way they’d leave their teenage daughter alone in X Country while they moved to the U.S.

In the end, Tang Xin couldn’t convince them. She held her passport and boarding pass, following her parents to the gate for their flight to America. She opened QQ on her phone, glancing at the still-active group chat. Looking out towards Hangzhou one last time, she sighed softly.

…

Life as a high school student in America went by quickly. In two years, Tang Xin graduated. Life there wasn’t perfect, but it wasn’t terrible either. She made some friends, learned a lot. But she still had one habit—every day, she’d open QQ, check in on “Forever Class 17,” and see what everyone was talking about.

Most messages she’d skim past, uninterested. She was only searching for one name—Lin Xian. Whenever she saw a message from him or about him, she’d stop, read it carefully, smiling to herself.

“Champion of the Hangzhou Youth Parkour League again?” she read, her smile growing wider. Lin Xian really was… amazing.

The year of senior high was in full swing…

“What?! Lin Xian won the parkour championship again? He’s so impressive.”

“Top of the city in the art exam, accepted into Tunghai University… Whoa, he’s even good at drawing?”

“He slept through the night and wouldn’t wake up, so his parents sent him to the hospital… Haha, is Gao Yang making that up, or is he serious?”

Tang Xin set her phone down, stretching with a sigh.

“Wow, it’s true—people who are outstanding just stay that way, no matter where they go.”

Then, her gaze turned more determined. “I can’t let myself fall behind…”

Tang Xin was an excellent student herself. She had managed to get into Johns Hopkins University, one of the world’s most prestigious schools, just as she’d planned. She chose to major in neuroscience, though not because she had any special interest in the field. It was simply because Johns Hopkins had a strong program in it, and both her father and some professors were well-connected in this area. It all flowed naturally that way.

By sophomore year, it was time to take electives to earn extra credits.

“Hmm?” Tang Xin raised an eyebrow as she scanned through the course listings. One course caught her eye—”The Literature of X Country.” But what really made her heart skip a beat was this: there was no restriction on students from X Country joining it!

“This… this is amazing!”

Normally, language courses with credit wouldn’t allow native speakers to join. But this professor was apparently quite open-minded!

Free credits—who could pass that up?

Without a second thought, Tang Xin clicked “enroll” and signed up.

The day finally came to attend class.

As expected, the massive classroom was packed with students from X Country. Everyone exchanged knowing smiles—they were all clearly there for the easy credits. Foreign students genuinely interested in X Country literature were few and far between.

For a moment, Tang Xin felt like she was back in a university in her home country.

The professor, a X Country woman with graying hair, smiled warmly at the class as she introduced herself.

“The reason I didn’t set a nationality restriction for enrollment… kids, it’s because I want you all to meet and connect with fellow countrymen while you’re abroad. You should help and look out for each other when away from home. Also, literature is part of our cultural heritage, the beauty of our language. Even though you’re studying here in America, you mustn’t lose touch with the culture and appreciation for X Country.”

She smiled as she continued, her eyes twinkling.

“The inherent beauty in the traditions of X Country is something many other cultures can’t match. Especially the richness of our language… no other language on earth holds emotions as deep and complex as those conveyed in our characters. Sometimes, two simple characters can convey a memory that lingers, a story full of ups and downs.”

The professor turned, picking up a piece of chalk and writing two characters on the blackboard:

Regret.

She faced the class again, her eyes softening as they roamed over the group of young, eager students. For a moment, it was as if they weren’t in America at all, but in some cozy classroom back in X Country, full of warmth and nostalgia.

“Do you all have regrets?” she asked gently.

The class burst into laughter.

“What’s the biggest regret in your life?” the professor asked, smiling as she looked around.

Hands shot up all around the room. The lively atmosphere made everyone more willing to share their thoughts.

And sure enough, most of the regrets they expressed—they were all about love.

The professor chuckled knowingly. “Love, in the culture of X Country, is indeed an eternal theme. You’re not wrong, everyone. Humans are creatures of emotion, and out of all these emotions, love is perhaps the most special. It’s different from familial bonds—there isn’t that inherent connection… Love turns two complete strangers into the most familiar people to each other.”

“It’s a beautiful, magical process. But as many of you have mentioned, it is also filled with regrets, full of love that never quite comes to fruition, and of times that never align.”

The class continued, halfway through now.

When the professor again brought up regrets, no one laughed this time.

“So… what is the greatest regret of all?” she asked, smiling as she picked up the chalk and wrote a verse on the blackboard:

“The one I love is separated by mountains and seas, and these mountains and seas cannot be crossed.”

“No matter how different our regrets may be,” she said softly, “when faced with this poem, I think all of us feel the same way.”

For a moment, the classroom fell silent.

Everyone sat there quietly, letting the words sink in.

The love separated by mountains and seas…

Those words struck a painful chord for those away from their homeland. Their mountains and seas were literal—the vast Pacific Ocean that lay between X Country and America.

Tang Xin, who had been idly scrolling through her phone and checking her class group chat, also became silent.

Since entering college, the messages in “Forever Class 17!” had dwindled.

During freshman year, people would still share snippets of their campus lives.

But by sophomore year, the chat had grown quiet, like a ghost town.

For two months, there hadn’t been a single message.

Tang Xin often felt lonely.

It was like the string connecting her to her past had snapped, the line gone dead.

Every day, she would open the group chat countless times, hoping to see something new.

And every day, she was disappointed.

There was nothing. No new messages. Just emptiness.

“Why is nobody talking?”

She found it frustrating.

Eavesdropping on news about Lin Xian had become a habit, something she clung to.

“The one I love is separated by mountains and seas, and these mountains and seas cannot be crossed.”

She murmured the professor’s words, feeling a strange sense of heaviness mixed with lightness—a realization of what true regret felt like. It was weightless, yet so, so heavy.

Suddenly—

“Pfft!” A snort broke through the silence of the classroom, full of disdain.

The sound came from directly behind Tang Xin.

Every head in the room turned to look.

Who would dare ruin such a moment?

Who was being so insensitive?

Tang Xin turned around, just as shocked as the rest of the class.

And there she saw—a pretty girl with an amused smirk on her lips.

Her hair was dyed a silvery grey, curled in large waves that draped over her shoulders. She wore skull earrings, a cross necklace, and had rings on every finger. Her style screamed hip-hop.

Most people shot her annoyed looks.

The girl, though, simply raised her chin and gave a disdainful laugh, rising a little in her seat as she spoke loudly enough for everyone to hear.

“What’s there to regret about that?” she scoffed.

She shook her head and said, “The sea has boats to cross, the mountains have roads to travel. If you can’t make it, don’t blame the road—what’s there to regret? Only losers feel regret, only those who can’t let go feel regret.”

Boom—

The provocative words exploded in the classroom, sending a ripple of murmurs throughout.

And yet, the white-haired professor kept her gentle smile, signaling for the students to quiet down.

“What this young lady said isn’t entirely wrong,” she said, still smiling. “It is true—and that’s why the poem doesn’t end with ‘mountains and seas cannot be crossed.'”

With that, she picked up the chalk again and wrote on the board:

“Mountains and seas can be crossed, but it’s the human heart that is hardest to overcome.”

Clap clap clap clap clap!

The classroom erupted into applause, like rolling thunder.

The professor—ever wise—had ended the debate with those words. They struck a finality that settled even the hip-hop girl’s argument.

Sure, the mountains could be crossed, but could a heart be mended?

The hip-hop girl had mocked the notion of regret, saying that only those who couldn’t let go felt it.

But then—if she had truly let go, why had she spoken up so passionately moments earlier?

Her words proved the professor’s point, becoming the perfect example of “mountains and seas can be crossed, but the human heart—that’s another matter.”

“Tch.” The hip-hop girl clicked her tongue, clearly unsatisfied, but she had nothing to say. She leaned on her elbow, sulking.

“Hey… I think what you said was really good.”

Tang Xin turned around, smiling at her.

“Honestly, just those two lines you said—I think they’re beautiful.”

The girl blinked in surprise, looking at Tang Xin.

She’d noticed earlier that the girl in front of her had kept opening her group chat again and again throughout class. She’d seen her click on someone’s profile picture and enter their space, only to be greeted by the message: “You are not friends with this user. Access denied.” Then she’d close it, only to repeat the action later.

It was obvious.

This was a girl with regrets, too.

“What’s your name?” the hip-hop girl asked.

“Tang Xin,” she replied with a smile, extending her hand. “And you are?”

The girl chuckled, shaking Tang Xin’s hand.

“Du Yao.”

…

They sat in a small restaurant afterward, facing each other across the table.

“So… you like that guy?” Du Yao asked, catching Tang Xin off guard.

“Huh?”

Tang Xin looked up, shaking her head quickly. “N-no, what are you talking about?”

“The guy from your group chat. You kept clicking on his profile. I saw you.”

“Oh… him.” Tang Xin’s mind drifted to Lin Xian, and she couldn’t help but smile.

“I wouldn’t say I like him. We only talked twice. We only ever met once, and then I transferred to America.”

“We never had a third conversation, we don’t even have each other’s phone numbers or anything… How could that be love?”

“You’d better let go of it soon,” Du Yao snorted.

“If you keep this up, you’ll end up liking him, you know? You’re just torturing yourself—don’t you see? Everything in this world can ferment if you let it—food, flavor… emotions too.” She sighed. “What was just a tiny seed of a thought—no big deal—you’re watering it every day, and soon enough, it’s a towering tree. And by the time you regret it, it’s already too late.”

Tang Xin sighed softly. “It’s not that dramatic, honestly… I was just glancing at an old group chat. Seeing if anything new was happening back home.”

“You’re lying to yourself,” Du Yao said.

“Well… everyone has something they can’t forget, right? What about you? Do you have anyone you like? Someone you haven’t forgotten?”

“If you’re not lying to yourself, then you wouldn’t say no. Because if you really didn’t care, you wouldn’t be so afraid to admit it,” Tang Xin countered.

Du Yao leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms. “You think I’m like you? Too scared to say what I really feel?”

“I had a boyfriend back in high school—we were a couple even though our parents and teachers were against it. I even planned my future around him—wherever he went to college, I would follow, whether that was in X Country or abroad.”

Tang Xin blinked in surprise. “And then… what happened?”

Du Yao scratched her head with frustration, growling, “That idiot went off to be a peace volunteer in Africa right after turning 18! Can you believe that?!”

“What?”

“Yeah! He wasn’t fighting on the front lines or anything, just helping to build schools and stuff. But still—it was a war-torn country! What eighteen-year-old does that? He must have been insane!”

Tang Xin tried to calm her friend. “I mean… that’s still admirable, isn’t it? He was helping people.”

Du Yao shook her head. “You’re right. He wasn’t insane. There’s only one word for it—”

She clenched her fists, face scrunched up in anger.

“He was an absolute idiot!”

…

Back in their dorm room, Du Yao opened the door to find Tang Xin sitting at her computer, still looking at the “Forever Class 17!” group chat.

“Tang Xin!” she snapped, walking over in frustration. “Can you stop staring at that group chat every day?! You’ve been doing it for years now—all through sophomore year, all the way into your job at the research institute! There hasn’t been a single message in that chat!”

“Oh, come on,” Tang Xin turned her head, annoyed. “Why do you care so much?”

“I’m just tired of seeing you like this,” Du Yao replied, grabbing a chair and sitting down beside Tang Xin. “It was just a small act of kindness—he let you borrow his school uniform when you needed it. Big deal. Why do you still think about it so much?”

“I bet Lin Xian—or whatever his name is—has forgotten all about it by now. You’ve never been in love, that’s why you think it’s some grand, romantic gesture. But let me tell you—this ‘nice guy’ act is just a cliché from every school drama and novel out there.”

Tang Xin looked back at her friend. “Sure, there might have been a lot of people who would’ve helped me that day.”

“But still… when it mattered most, he was the one who was there.”

Du Yao narrowed her eyes, then took a deep breath.

“You’re hopeless.”

“What?”

“You’re done for,” Du Yao said, throwing her hands up. “I told you, years ago, to let go of that little spark. Now look at you—it’s taken root, sprouted, grown into a full-blown tree.”

“If some other guy had done anything to win your heart, that’d be different. But Lin Xian… He’s done nothing, and still, you’ve let this tiny thing fester in your heart, turning into something it never needed to be.”

“Maybe if you’d stayed back home and stayed in that class, you would’ve had the chance to say thank you properly and become friends. And then this wouldn’t have turned into something so… ridiculous.”

Du Yao sighed.

“I’m not saying you shouldn’t fall in love or that you shouldn’t pursue him or anything. If my best friend gets to be with the person she loves and live happily ever after, I’ll be there cheering the loudest! I’ll be your bridesmaid and catch your bouquet—but I’m just worried about this one-sided thing, Xin Xin. This one-sided love with no hope, with no end in sight—I’m afraid it’s going to hurt you.”

“You’ve left X Country, and you’ve lost touch with him and everyone else from that time in your life. You’re here now, working in America, and there’s no way he’s coming here… When will you two ever meet again? How could there possibly be a story between you?”

Du Yao’s words made Tang Xin fall silent.

Indeed.

Would they ever have a chance to meet again?

She’d always thought she just needed a chance to say thank you.

But as Du Yao said, that sentiment had grown, blossomed, becoming something else entirely—something she couldn’t even control.

It was a love destined to have no ending.

The vast Pacific Ocean, the 12,000-kilometer distance between America and X Country—those were the impassable mountains and seas, keeping her heart from finding peace.

Maybe Du Yao was right.

This was a love that would have no end.

But when would it end?

Ding-dong!

Suddenly, a sound rang out from her laptop—a sound that made Tang Xin jump.

It was a message notification from QQ.

Tang Xin’s eyes widened as she turned to look at the screen, catching Du Yao’s equally stunned expression. They both rushed to see what had appeared.

Miraculously—after all these years—a message had appeared in the “Forever Class 17!” group chat. From Gao Yang, the group admin, no less:

“Hey everyone! It’s been five years since we graduated. Time for a reunion! How about the fifth day of the new year, during the holidays?”

Tang Xin’s face lit up, and she practically jumped out of her chair.

“Du Yao! Look! Our class president’s organizing a reunion!”

Du Yao shook her head, incredulous.

“But… nobody’s replying. Do you think this reunion will really happen?”

That one statement crushed Tang Xin’s excitement.

Surely not…

Surely everyone wouldn’t ignore it, causing the reunion to be canceled, right?

And so, the two girls did nothing but stare at the screen for over half an hour, waiting.

Nothing.

Not a single reply.

“Ugh…”

Both of them sighed deeply.

They both knew—this reunion was probably not happening.

Tang Xin moved her mouse, ready to close the group chat, ready to shut down the last flicker of hope she’d had—

Ding-dong!

Another notification!

She looked up, eyes wide, staring at that familiar profile picture she’d clicked on so many times before—Lin Xian.

“Hey everyone! It’s been so long, we definitely need to get together. I’ll be home for the holidays, see you then!”

Tang Xin grabbed Du Yao’s arm, pulling her over excitedly.

“Look! Look!”

“I see it… I see it,” Du Yao said, nearly losing her balance from being tugged so hard. “That’s Lin Xian—your one and only, right? Since he’s Gao Yang’s friend, of course, he has to show support.”

She looked over at Tang Xin.

“Aren’t you going to join in too? Sure, you were just a transfer student for a short while, but if no one else responds, this reunion won’t even happen, right?”

“Right, right,” Tang Xin said, her hands trembling slightly as she placed them on the keyboard.

She typed something, then deleted it.

Typed again—and deleted again.

“Ugh, what are you doing?!” Du Yao couldn’t take it anymore, urging her on. “Why are you so shy? Just send it! Say you’re going! No need to overthink it.”

Finally, Tang Xin finished typing her message, took a deep breath, and pressed enter—

Tang Xin: Sure, Lin Xian! Count me in!

“Eek—”

Tang Xin stomped her feet, feeling a mix of embarrassment and excitement. “This is so awkward! No one else even replied, and I’m the only one—the transfer student who nobody remembers! It’ll be so weird.”

“So what?” Du Yao said, completely unconcerned. “Who cares what the others think? That message wasn’t for them. It was for Lin Xian!”

She ruffled Tang Xin’s hair, shaking her head. “Love makes people blind. I’ve never seen you this dumb before. Look at yourself—grinning like a fool.”

“And since you’ve started chatting, don’t just stop at one message—keep it going! Say something else, get the conversation going. Maybe everyone else will start chiming in.”

Tang Xin fumbled again. “What should I say?”

“Oh, you’re hopeless,” Du Yao sighed. “Fine—if you can’t think of anything, just send an emoji. How about the goofy grin you’re wearing right now?”

Du Yao’s words made Tang Xin giggle.

Smiling broadly, she held down the Shift key, quickly typing 6, dash, and another 6, before hitting enter.

And there it was—a lively little emoticon popped up in the chat window.

Tang Xin had sent out her message—

**^_^**.