The sycamore trees outside finally shed their last dry leaves, their bare branches cutting sharp lines against the lead-gray sky. At some point, fine frost patterns began to form on the classroom windows.
Time had arrived in December.
Shen Jia Yan’s birth month.
Wen Wan Ning had subtly asked her early on what she liked.
Since her birthday was still some time away back then, Shen Jia Yan hadn’t thought much of it. She just assumed it was casual talk about preferences and chatted about her love for drum sets and various cars.
Lü Yue had even teased her at the time, saying how a little girl liked things boys usually went for.
Shen Jia Yan had always been like that—loving drum sets, cars, and tinkering with computer programs on her own.
She didn’t think hobbies were tied to gender. Everyone was an independent individual, with different looks, builds, personalities, and naturally, preferences. Just because most people liked similar things didn’t represent everyone.
She was Shen Jia Yan, and she was different from others.
Wen Wan Ning didn’t find Shen Jia Yan’s interests particularly strange. In her heart, she had always been a really cool girl.
She would challenge herself by choosing liberal arts even though she wasn’t great at it, run the long-distance race for class honor farther than the boys could, and unwittingly radiate charm on the stage during the school celebration…
In short, Shen Jia Yan was the coolest girl Wen Wan Ning had ever met.
The evening before Shen Jia Yan’s birthday.
After school, the three of them walked along the campus path as usual.
When they reached the school gate, Wen Wan Ning stopped and peered ahead.
“Why’d you stop, Wan Ning?” Shen Jia Yan asked, puzzled.
Wen Wan Ning spotted the person she was looking for and gave a faint smile. She turned to Shen Jia Yan. “Jia Yan, wait here for me. Don’t go yet.”
With that, she jogged across the street.
Shen Jia Yan and Lü Yue exchanged curious looks.
Before long, Wen Wan Ning returned to Shen Jia Yan holding a rectangular gift box.
She handed the box to Shen Jia Yan, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “Happy birthday, Jia Yan.”
The pale blue gift box, tied with a ribbon, hovered before Shen Jia Yan’s eyes. Her fingers hung in midair, hesitating to take it.
“Take it,” Wen Wan Ning urged, nudging the box closer.
“Ah, right, okay.” Shen Jia Yan snapped out of it and accepted the box.
She hadn’t expected Wen Wan Ning to prepare a birthday gift for her—or even know when her birthday was.
In this intense phase, almost every senior in the key high school was going all out preparing for the college entrance exam. Wen Wan Ning, in particular, had been steadily pursuing her goals without slacking.
For her to remember Shen Jia Yan’s birthday and thoughtfully prepare a gift at a time like this—it caught her off guard and deeply touched her.
She took the box almost reverently. It felt heavy in her palms, wrapped in a starry sky pattern with raised constellation reliefs that she could feel under her fingertips.
“What is it?” Her lips curved up involuntarily.
“Mm~~~” Wen Wan Ning tilted her head with a soft smile. “Open it at home and see for yourself.”
“Okay.”
Shen Jia Yan sat in the back seat of the car, clutching the pale blue gift box tightly with both hands.
“A birthday gift from a classmate?” Uncle Li glanced back with a knowing smile.
“Mm.” She mumbled a vague response, her fingers secretly tracing the edge of the lid, searching for any gap.
The light turned red, and the car stopped. Neon lights from outside cast shifting glows on the box. Unable to resist, she held it up to her face, trying to make out the shape inside under the streetlights. But the packaging was too thick; she could only vaguely discern a blurry shadow.
“Don’t rush—we’re almost home,” Uncle Li said with a chuckle.
“Mm.” Her knees bounced lightly without her realizing, her fingers tapping a silent rhythm on the box.
In the rearview mirror, Shen Jia Yan saw her own eyes shining extraordinarily bright, the smile on her lips so persistent it made her cheeks ache.
The car finally turned into the neighborhood gate. She unbuckled instantly. Before it even stopped, she grabbed her bag and the gift box, dashing out amid Uncle Li’s “Slow down!” warning.
She flung open the front door.
Her bag thudded onto the entryway. Without even bothering with slippers, she ran upstairs barefoot.
The moment her bedroom door flew open with her elbow, the ribbon on the gift box was already half untied. She knelt on the floor, carefully undoing it.
As she lifted the lid, the overhead light shone perfectly onto the black velvet lining inside.
Two pairs of custom drumsticks lay quietly there.
Shen Jia Yan’s breath hitched for a second.
They were Vic Firth Constellation Series Custom Drum Sticks.
Her fingertips lightly brushed the surface—smooth yet with a steady matte texture. The grip had a frosted finish that made them feel perfectly fitted to her palm even before she held them.
Moonlight slanted in from the window, illuminating the constellation engravings on the sticks, along with the tiny, faintly glowing initials “SJY.”
Her zodiac sign. Her name.
Her thumb traced the raised etchings, her breathing turning soft and shallow, as if afraid to disturb this meticulously crafted surprise.
Suddenly, she noticed a gold-embossed card in the box.
She pulled it out. The line of small text hit her: “The stars guide the rhythm, and your hands are destined to shake the galaxy.”
A sweet ache welled up in her throat, forcing her to bite her lower lip. So this was what it felt like to have someone cherish and remember your likes so thoughtfully.
Like someone placing a star gently in the softest part of your heart.
“How could she be so thoughtful?” Shen Jia Yan muttered, her voice thick with emotion.
She gently stroked the drumsticks, imagining Wen Wan Ning researching drumstick details bit by bit, carefully filling out the customization form with her zodiac and name…
Downstairs, she heard Shen Yan and Jiang Jing chatting, but her world consisted only of the drumsticks in her hands and the painfully intense heartbeat in her chest.
After calming down a bit, she pulled out her phone and opened the pinned WeChat chat.
[Wan Ning, thank you. This is the best birthday gift I’ve ever received.]
She followed up right away: [No contest.]
Wen Wan Ning set down her pen, picked up her phone, and replied: [As long as you like it. So when can I hear you play with the new sticks?]
Seeing the message, Shen Jia Yan grabbed the gift box and headed to her practice room. She took out one pair of drumsticks, stowed the other in her display cabinet.
Then she set up her phone on a stand, aiming the camera at her drum set.
She sat on the drum stool, gripping her new sticks tightly.
The moment she hit record, the sticks seemed to come alive.
The backing track started, and the rhythm of “Accompany You Through Long Years” flowed from her fingertips. The new sticks struck crisp, bright tones against the drums.
In the chorus, she improvised a triplet fill. The walnut wood’s vibration reminded her of the warmth from Wen Wan Ning’s fingertips brushing her hand when she handed over the box.
As the final note faded, she realized her lips had been curved upward the whole time.
She picked up her phone, went back to the chat, selected the video, and sent it.
[The first strike of the sticks falling feels like you’re right here listening.]
After sending, she stared at the screen tensely.
Wen Wan Ning received the video, set down her phone, and pulled her Bluetooth earbuds from the drawer to connect them.
Worried the external speakers wouldn’t do it justice, she wanted to hear the sound of those hands clearly.
Three minutes later, Shen Jia Yan got her reply.
Wan Ning: [The sticks suit you perfectly. Even better than I imagined.]
She followed with a screenshot—from the moment Shen Jia Yan raised her hand mid-performance, the sticks gleaming warmly under the light.
Suddenly, Shen Jia Yan recalled last rainy season, Wen Wan Ning wading through flooded paths in the shoes she’d gifted her.
Some feelings had long woven into the fabric of their lives through mornings and evenings, year after year.
She gently touched the initials engraved on her drumsticks.
Thank you for letting me meet you, the world’s best Wen Wan Ning.
※
Late December, the last Christmas of high school.
The tense senior year life seemed to catch a brief respite amid the falling snow.
The rules remained the same as every year—no exceptions for it being a grade’s final holiday on campus.
The school still strictly checked students’ belongings upon entry.
Shen Jia Yan reluctantly went to the school gift shop anyway, carefully selecting a box of chocolates to give Wen Wan Ning.
When the bell rang for the end of the last afternoon class, most students headed to buy dinner. Shen Jia Yan wasn’t very hungry, so she skipped the cafeteria.
She waited in her classroom for fifteen minutes, then took the chocolates to Senior Year Class 4 to find Wen Wan Ning.
As she approached the back door of Senior Year Class 4 and peered in, she saw a boy standing by Wen Wan Ning’s desk.
He seemed to be offering her something.
Shen Jia Yan couldn’t see Wen Wan Ning’s expression clearly, but after she said something, she pushed the item away. Then the boy left with it.
Shen Jia Yan figured he must have been rejected after trying to give Wan Ning a Christmas gift.
A flicker of joy rose in her heart.
Just as she was about to call out, she saw Wen Wan Ning pull three or four gift boxes from her desk.
Shen Jia Yan gripped her unsent chocolates, her budding joy drowned by waves of sourness.
Wen Wan Ning set the gift boxes on her desk, looked at them, and shook her head. She stood, gathered them up, and tossed them straight into the trash.
Seeing this, the sourness in Shen Jia Yan’s heart turned to sweet honey.
Lü Yue, standing beside Wen Wan Ning, noticed Shen Jia Yan at the door.
She waved her over, told Wen Wan Ning, and they both walked to her.
“Jia Yan, what brings you here?” Wen Wan Ning looked at her with smiling eyes.
“Ah, I—” Shen Jia Yan was still caught in her emotions and didn’t react right away.
Wen Wan Ning spotted the chocolate box in her hand and pointed at it. “Here to give me a Christmas gift?”
