Jiang Wan felt that her relationship with Bei Huai was growing closer by the day.
This was a good thing. After all, it meant the girl’s tightly guarded heart was slowly opening up.
She was thrilled.
But sometimes, she noticed little details.
Like the occasional way Bei Huai looked at her.
A gaze full of emotions she couldn’t quite decipher.
It always seemed like Bei Huai was desperately holding something back.
Days passed one after another, and classes remained as dull and tedious as ever.
The students in Class 6 had grown accustomed to Bei Huai not skipping anymore. They no longer made a fuss like they had at first. Instead, they gradually started treating her like any other student.
Bei Huai still had that cold, lazy demeanor that kept people at arm’s length. But she wasn’t the troublemaker or wild hothead that everyone had made her out to be.
She was just like any other slacker, hanging around the classroom all day without studying, content to sprawl over her desk and sleep.
Of course, under Jiang Wan’s patient guidance, Bei Huai had made some changes. At least now she pulled out her textbook for show, and during exams, she no longer turned in blank sheets. She even attempted a few of the big problems.
Staring at the math exam paper where every big problem answer was just the single character “Solution,” Jiang Wan was speechless.
“This is what you mean by attempting a few big problems?”
“Didn’t you teach me that?” Bei Huai looked even more innocent than Jiang Wan.
“Me?”
“Yeah.” The girl crossed her arms over her chest and leaned against the wall, shrugging helplessly. “Didn’t you say that even if you can’t solve it, you should at least show some effort?”
As she spoke, she tilted her chin toward the paper.
“See? That’s my effort.”
Jiang Wan: “…”
Jiang Wan had nothing to say.
She had said that, sure—but it was for language arts reading comprehension! Who told Bei Huai to apply it to math?
The little girl puffed out her cheeks in frustration and turned away, refusing to acknowledge the person behind her.
Unbeknownst to her, the one watching her back wore a soft, downcast smile.
December arrived quietly.
The weather turned cold overnight. Trees lining the streets shed their leaves, leaving barren branches that looked like swept-up brooms.
This winter in Ning City was especially harsh.
Jiang Wan had switched to her puffy jacket early on. Seeing Bei Huai still wearing only a thin trench coat, she frowned deeply.
“Are you choosing style over warmth or what?”
She grabbed the girl’s hand.
Sure enough, it was ice-cold.
“Who are you torturing like this? If you catch a cold, you’ll be the one suffering!” Jiang Wan scolded her sternly, face dark.
Bei Huai wiggled her fingers and looked up at the girl.
Jiang Wan was bundled in an oversized candy-pink puffy jacket with long sleeves that swallowed her hands, making her seem even tinier and more delicate.
Perhaps worried about her neck getting cold, she hadn’t tied her black hair up but let it cascade over her shoulders.
Her fair little face was pristine, and her dark, limpid eyes reflected Bei Huai’s own image, as if they could speak.
It nearly drowned Bei Huai in their depths.
She hastily turned her head away in a fluster, but she couldn’t bring herself to pull her hand free from the girl’s warm grasp—whether because of the warmth or something else, she wasn’t sure.
“Go back and put on more layers,” she murmured, eyes lowered.
“Don’t forget,” Jiang Wan emphasized, only half-convinced.
As she spoke, she let go of Bei Huai’s hand, oblivious to the fleeting disappointment that crossed the other girl’s face.
December 18th was Guanguan’s birthday.
Her eighteenth, no less.
It fell on a Saturday, so Guanguan had invited a few people out to celebrate.
By the time Jiang Wan arrived, she discovered that Guanguan’s guests included… Cen Jin. And Bei Huai.
Bei Huai?
Guanguan looked baffled. “Bei Huai, I don’t remember… telling you about this. How did you know to come?”
The red-haired girl was in black Doc Martens boots and a black shearling jacket. Her all-black cool-girl vibe matched her icy expression, making her look tall, edgy, and effortlessly badass.
At Guanguan’s words, she just lowered her eyelids and said nothing.
Cen Jin, standing nearby, grinned and teased, “She heard Junior Jiang Wan was coming and insisted on tagging along.”
“You talk too much,” Bei Huai muttered with a frown.
Jiang Wan pressed her lips together to hide a smile.
“Today’s birthday girl looks stunning,” Cen Jin said, her gaze shifting to Guanguan as her smile deepened.
Cen Jin had those striking eyes with whites below the iris and slightly upturned corners. When she wasn’t smiling, she seemed as aloof and distant as Bei Huai.
But when she did smile, her eyes sparkled with a captivating flow, drawing people in like she was gazing at them with affection. Innocent girls like Guanguan couldn’t help but blush and feel their hearts race.
Guanguan was no exception. Her cheeks flushed as she tried to mask her shyness, lifting her chin defiantly. “What, was I not pretty before?”
She had indeed dressed in her best outfit today and done her finest makeup.
Not just because it was her coming-of-age celebration, but because she was seeing the one her heart yearned for.
“You’re all pretty, but you’re the prettiest today.” Cen Jin raised an eyebrow, chiming in with Guanguan’s praise.
“So, where are we headed now?” Bei Huai interrupted the pair’s sticky sweetness.
“Oh, oh, let’s go to the amusement park! We haven’t been in ages,” Guanguan said excitedly.
Bei Huai frowned slightly but said nothing.
In her mind, amusement parks were for kids.
“Alright, today the birthday star calls the shots! Whatever you want to play, that’s what we’ll do!” Jiang Wan said with a laugh.
The four of them headed to the nearest amusement park.
Once there, Guanguan eyed every ride, dying to try them all, but time was short—they still had other plans later.
So she picked the most thrilling ones: the roller coaster and the Ghost House.
“We’re really gonna drop straight down from there?” Bei Huai stared at the 90-degree vertical track, asking in disbelief.
“Yep. Little Bei, you never ridden one before?” Jiang Wan turned to ask.
She and Guanguan had snuck off to one as kids, behind their parents’ backs. No way they’d have allowed something so extreme.
“Mm.” Bei Huai gave a faint nod.
Her childhood had been nothing but endless boring classes. The outside world was a blank slate to her. As a kid, she might’ve envied other children dragged to amusement parks by their parents, but as she grew up, those thoughts faded.
Cen Jin teased, “For real, if you’re scared, bail now. Don’t get up there and regret it—that’d be a huge embarrassment.”
“If you don’t speak, no one will mistake you for a mute,” Bei Huai shot her a glare, her tone sharp.
“I’m just looking out for you.” Cen Jin pouted.
Just then, Guanguan returned with the tickets and waved everyone over.
While waiting in line, Jiang Wan stood beside Bei Huai and whispered, “Little Bei, you sure you’re okay? Don’t push yourself.”
“I’m fine,” Bei Huai replied calmly, without a change in expression.
The girl puffed out her cheeks. “Alright then.”
But the moment the roller coaster lurched into motion, the unflappable Bei Huai went as white as a sheet.
As it plummeted straight down, the riders screamed. Jiang Wan joined in, savoring the rush of freefall.
Bei Huai alone kept her face rigid, silent. But her furrowed brow and trembling lips betrayed the storm inside.
She gripped Jiang Wan’s hand with crushing force, leaving a deep bruise on the girl’s wrist.
“You okay? Feeling alright?” After disembarking, Jiang Wan hurried to support Bei Huai to a bench nearby.
They were the last two off this batch; Guanguan and the others were just getting on the next one.
Jiang Wan gently rubbed Bei Huai’s back, trying to soothe her.
The instant Little Bei had seized her wrist, she’d known the girl was terrified deep down.
But amid the screaming plunge, there was no way to comfort her—just endure the pain shooting through her wrist as Bei Huai vented her panic.
Bei Huai didn’t reply. She hunched over, dizzy and weak-kneed, queasy but unable to throw up.
She never wanted to feel this again.
“Hey, do you need help? Your friend looks pretty rough. I’ve got a fresh bottle of water here, unopened,” a guy said, shoved forward by his buddies. He offered the mineral water with a shy smile.
Jiang Wan glanced up at him and gave a polite but distant smile. “Thanks, but I’ll just grab one myself.”
She wasn’t naive enough to trust a stranger. Better safe than sorry out in the world.
With a slight nod, she turned and jogged off to buy water.
The guy watched her retreating figure, his face falling in disappointment.
He’d spotted her the moment she arrived—exactly his type. After agonizing over it, egged on by his friends, he’d mustered the courage to chat her up. Strikeout.
But he wasn’t ready to give up. He’d try again when she got back. Maybe he’d botched the approach.
Yet the girl slumped on the bench, still hunched over and looking miserable, suddenly lifted her head. Her face was pale, her gaze sharp as it swept toward him.
A faint killer instinct flickered in her eyes.
She was beautiful too, but in a fierce, aggressive way that intimidated. He preferred the soft, sweet girl who’d gone for water—the one who hit every mark on his dream girl list.
“Were you just hitting on her?” the girl asked out of nowhere, her voice ice-cold.
The boy couldn’t help taking a few steps back, but then he thought of Jiang Wan’s face and suppressed the inexplicable shiver in his heart. Cautiously, he said, “Are you friends with that girl? This might be a bit forward, but I really want to get to know her.”
“If it’s possible, could you give me her WeChat?”
Bei Huai stared coldly at the clueless boy in front of her. A nameless fire surged in her chest, leaving her feeling utterly irritated.
“Scram.” Her tone was eerie and vicious.
Want Jiang Wan’s WeChat? As if you deserve it?
Just a single word sent a chill through him. All his courage evaporated in an instant. He wanted to say something back, but under her icy gaze, he couldn’t force out a single syllable.
In the end, he slunk away in defeat.
When Jiang Wan returned with the water, she saw Bei Huai sitting there with a sullen expression.
“You’re not feeling bad anymore?” She hurried over, studying the girl’s face.
“Mm.” At the sight of Jiang Wan, Bei Huai’s expression softened noticeably. She gave a faint nod.
After a moment of silence, she hesitated and said, “Don’t tell them.”
“What?” Jiang Wan blinked in confusion.
Bei Huai seemed to be holding something back. She pursed her lips before speaking again. “Don’t tell them I wasn’t feeling well.”
Especially not that mutt Cen Jin.
She hadn’t realized that riding a roller coaster was nothing like perching on a wall and peering down from above. The sensations were worlds apart.
“All right.” Jiang Wan bit back a smile and agreed.
Bei Huai glanced at the girl’s curved brows and eyes, then turned her head away. Her own lips twitched upward despite herself.
Admitting her weakness didn’t feel nearly as embarrassing as she’d feared.
Soon Guanguan and Cen Jin came back down too. They both looked exhilarated, Guanguan especially.
She came dashing over.
“Wanwan, let’s go—charge into the Ghost House!”
“Junior schoolgirls, slow down! Careful you don’t trip.” Cen Jin called out as she trailed after Guanguan.
“You okay with that?” Jiang Wan blinked and glanced at Bei Huai.
The girl kept a straight face. “Mm.”
“It’s all fake. Nothing to be scared of.” She tacked on the line unnecessarily.
Jiang Wan’s gaze met hers—loaded with meaning.
Bei Huai: “…”
Guanguan, ever the thrill-seeker, had picked a haunt heavy on terror and light on puzzles.
She’d also chosen a four-person team slot, refusing to join up with strangers.
The atmosphere was pitch-perfect: a shadowy, foreboding darkness pierced by faint women’s screams, eerie nursery rhymes drifting through the air, and grotesque ghost faces lunging out at irregular intervals.
The scarier it got, the more pumped Guanguan became. Cen Jin even found the breath to critique the scare tactics.
Jiang Wan was far more level-headed than those two. She felt the fear, sure, but without any jump scares, she managed to stay composed.
Bei Huai, though, stayed rigid the whole way, trailing silently behind the group.
Suddenly, a hand seized her ankle.
The cold grip sent the hairs on her neck standing straight up.
On pure instinct, she jerked her leg back to kick—but Jiang Wan had been keeping watch and swiftly held her back.
“Easy, it’s not a ghost. It’s just staff.” She clasped Bei Huai’s hand tight, her voice calm and soothing as it quelled the girl’s rising panic.
The staffer must have sensed he’d poked a bear—and nearly gotten clobbered for it—because he scurried back into the shadows.
“What happened? Everything okay?” Guanguan turned, holding up her little “candle,” her voice laced with worry.
The passage was pitch-black, and with Guanguan and Cen Jin up ahead, they had no clue what had gone down behind them.
“It’s fine.” Jiang Wan called back.
“Let’s keep going.” She smiled at Bei Huai, her grip on the girl’s hand firm and unwavering.
Bei Huai pressed her lips together and lowered her lashes. Unthinkingly, her fingers tightened in return.
They pressed on, but bit by bit, their clasp evolved into fully interlocked fingers.
Jiang Wan was too busy scanning the sides and rear for threats to notice. Bei Huai, though, kept her head down, eyes fixed on their joined hands. A smile bloomed in her gaze that she couldn’t suppress, her joy momentarily eclipsing all fear.
Once they emerged from the Ghost House, Cen Jin spotted the oddity right away.
“Tsk tsk tsk. Talk about love standing the test of fire.” Her eyes roved over them with unmistakable insinuation.
That was when Jiang Wan finally clocked it. Bei Huai’s reaction was even more explosive—her hand flew back as if scalded.
From then on, she angled her body sideways, pointedly avoiding Jiang Wan’s eyes.
Jiang Wan cocked her head, gazing curiously at the girl’s flushed earlobes.
Little Bei… was she embarrassed?
Guanguan missed the whole exchange. She was already scrolling her phone for the next stop.
“Wanwan, Wanwan—let’s catch this movie! I’ve been dying to see it!”
“No problem. You’re calling the shots today—anything goes.” Jiang Wan grinned.
After they finished watching the movie and enjoyed a hearty meal, it was already around seven or eight in the evening.
Guanguan had zero interest in heading home so early. With her mother away on a business trip, she could finally cut loose.
So Cen Jin booked a private KTV room at her usual spot.
It was only when they arrived that Guanguan realized some of her closer classmates from school were also there, belting out tunes.
Once they learned it was Guanguan’s birthday, the classmates cheerfully tagged along to the same room for the celebration.
But the moment they stepped inside, they regretted it.
There, smack in the middle of the sofa, lounged a girl with red hair.
She reclined at a careless angle, her posture utterly relaxed. When she noticed the newcomers, she merely lifted her eyelids in a lazy glance before letting them droop again, as if she couldn’t be bothered.
She wasn’t doing a thing—just sitting there—and yet she radiated an intimidating presence that demanded respect.
“H-How is Bei Huai here too? Since when did you get so tight with her?” The lead classmate forced a smile as she sidled up to Guanguan and whispered.
“Hey, Bei Huai’s actually pretty cool, you guys don’t need to be so on edge.” Guanguan waved it off with her usual breeziness.
The classmates’ faces twisted in a mix of disbelief and exasperation.
Bei Huai… cool? Were they sure she wasn’t joking?
But they’d already come this far—backing out now would just make them look like total wimps.
Grimacing, the classmates pushed forward. They exchanged quick greetings with Jiang Wan and the others before settling in quietly.
It was Guanguan’s night, after all. She dominated the mic, belting out song after song until her voice grew hoarse.
The vibe in the room started to loosen up and heat up.
Even Jiang Wan got roped into singing a few numbers amid the cheers.
Her voice was clear and sweet, with an ethereal quality that hooked everyone, like an angel serenading from on high.
The flashing colored lights danced across her face, lending her usually soft eyes an air of mystery and subtle allure.
Bei Huai sat below, her gaze fixed on the captivating girl onstage, who seemed to glow under the spotlights. Her own eyes darkened.
Deep in her chest, an inexpressible desire stirred to life, growing wild and unchecked.
She couldn’t suppress it. If anything, she wanted to let it run free.
Everyone took a turn at the mic—except Bei Huai.
No one dared prod her.
Jiang Wan saw no reason to bother, and Cen Jin was too caught up in the fun to care.
That is, until Guanguan was queuing up songs and accidentally bumped a duet love ballad to the top of the list.
“Who’s up for this? If no takers, I’m skipping it.”
She reached for the skip button, but a voice cut her off.
“I’ll sing.”
