Chapter 1

Cicadas shrilled in the camphor trees while the crowd around us whooped—not because they were happy for us, but because they wanted a show.

Someone nearby whistled and laughed. “Young Master Zhou’s tastes have gotten pretty bland lately.”

The boy in the white shirt ignored them. He stood before me with gentle eyes, sunlight spilling over his shoulder like some prince out of a fairy tale. Zhou Jiashu braced a hand against the handlebar of my bicycle and leaned close, his warm breath brushing my face.

“Song Zhiwei,” he said, “I like you.”

I saw my reflection in his eyes: a frail girl swallowed by an oversized school uniform, her face pale with anemia. Me at seventeen.

I stood frozen, my cheeks burning and my fingertips trembling. This was Zhou Jiashu, the boy I had secretly loved for so long. But before I could blurt out, “I like you too,” I heard the thoughts of the clean-cut boy in front of me.

*She actually believed me? Disgusting.*

I stared at him. His smile remained tender, revealing none of the revulsion underneath.

He waited with the confidence of someone who already knew my answer. After all, everyone at Nancheng No. 1 High knew I followed him around like a lovesick puppy.

I pressed my lips together, stepped back, and said in a shaky voice, “Sorry. I don’t like you.”

Zhou Jiashu’s expression darkened at once. Just then, a tall boy with white hair swaggered past us, seemingly oblivious to the spectacle. I recognized him. He was our school’s notorious troublemaker—and Zhou Jiashu’s archenemy.

I pointed at him. “That’s my type. You get it, right?” I tugged on my bicycle. “So move, Zhou Jiashu.”

He looked stunned, as if he could not understand how the girl who had adored him one second could tell him to get lost the next. His hand tightened stiffly around my handlebar, unease gathering between his brows.

“What’s wrong with you?”

He was much stronger than I was. As long as he held on, I could not move the bicycle at all. Anxious sweat slid down my forehead.

Then someone caught the handlebar with one hand and easily wrenched it out of Zhou Jiashu’s grip.

“Are you deaf? She told you to get lost.” The voice was lazy, cold, and slightly husky.

I looked up. The troublemaker had a striking profile, and his short silver-white hair gleamed in the sun. He looked impossibly cool.

In the next second, I heard his panicked thoughts.

*Holy shit. She’s looking at me.*