Huaxin munched on a cookie while furiously rubbing her soaking-wet hair with a towel.  
Long hair is such a pain…  
At first, she thought it wouldn’t be that different from short hair.  
Heh heh.  
She was so wrong, meow.

In summer, the heat made her feel stuffy, leaving her neck sticky and damp, and washing her hair always took forever to dry.  
Annoyed, she tugged at her strands. The towel didn’t seem to help much—it was still damp.  
She draped the towel around her neck, hopped onto her bed, and sat on the edge. Through the wide-open window, a gentle morning breeze drifted in, softly lifting her hair. The ordinary scent of her shampoo lingered around her nose—  
an old men’s “13-in-1” formula she’d used for ages, oddly floral-smelling.

Without a hair dryer, natural air-drying was her only option.  
Thankfully, it was summer—damp hair in this breeze wouldn’t give her a cold.

After that practically R18-level humiliating dream, every time she closed her eyes, she saw Dong… uh, Xia Yan’s leering, shrimp-headed face.  
She couldn’t sleep at all.  
So she might as well get up, freshen up, and prepare herself—today she’d be out all day, locked in a battle of wits with Xia Yan, settling things once and for all.

For men, washing one’s hair before doing something important or heading out is a basic sign of respect.

Outside, the view wasn’t particularly impressive—just ordinary buildings and streets—but she hadn’t really looked at it in a long time, even though all it took was pulling back the curtains.  
Ever since she’d been left alone.

But the sky… the sky was beautiful.  
Half-dark, half-blue, faintly illuminated by the approaching dawn. Everything was quiet—no daytime clamor, no cars rumbling over pavement, no honking horns.  
Clouds drifted slowly, heading who-knows-where.

When she was little, she loved lying on the grass, staring up at the clouds, just to escape the shouting and the sound of shattering cups. Sometimes, a kind old lady would give her a fruit to ease her hunger—  
though more often than not, it was sour rather than sweet.

Now, only the chirping of crickets and rustling leaves remained.

The usually cheerful and whimsical girl sat unusually still on the edge of her bed, her eyes clouded with quiet confusion.

Today was actually very important to her—but when you’re all alone, even important days start to feel insignificant.  
Whenever she tried to forget, memories crept back unbidden.

Huaxin didn’t think living alone like this was especially pitiful.  
After all, she’d been doing it for years.

For some reason, she slowly reached out her hand—as if trying to grasp something—leaning slightly out the window.  

As a child, she’d imagined catching a star. Stars were so high up, so precious—if she could pluck one down, surely it could be sold for a fortune?  
Maybe then they wouldn’t have left her.  
Maybe then she could’ve eaten her fill… maybe she could’ve stopped that from happening.

If only time could be changed as easily as her gender had been.

She pulled her tightly clenched fist back inside and gently opened it.  
“Nothing but emptiness?”  
She chuckled softly to herself. She was smiling, yet her eyes brimmed with long-suppressed sorrow.  
There was nothing in her palm—just air.

Yeah… what could she possibly hold onto?  
Once.  
Twice.  
Thrice…  
She couldn’t hold onto anything. All she could do was keep surviving, alone.

“Am I some kind of legendary ‘Lonely Star of Doom’?”  
“Sounds kinda cool, actually…”

She propped herself up on the bed with both hands, closed her eyes, and let the breeze wash over her. Her damp hair fluttered gently against her shoulders—refreshingly cool.  
It was as if she’d already forgotten everything from moments ago. Smiling again, she chatted cheerfully to herself:  
“How about eating meat when I get home today?”  
“I really want meat.”  
“Lots and lots of meat!!”

————————

6:00 AM.

Xia Yan jogged steadily around the track, his breath even and rhythmic. His T-shirt was already soaked through with sweat.  
Even though he had to host the student performance and deliver a speech for the school leadership today—plus perform a solo song—he couldn’t skip his daily discipline.  
After all, physical training and D-A-Y went hand in hand.

“Hah…”  
He checked his fitness tracker—10 kilometers complete—and slowed to a stop, sitting down on a nearby plastic bench.

The field was unusually lively for early morning; crews were already setting up stages and equipment. After all, this wasn’t just a student showcase—it also featured an open-air music festival segment.

Xia Yan downed his mineral water in big gulps, then picked up his phone.  
“Hm?”  
His eyebrows lifted in surprise at the message on QQ.

Wife (contact label): “Awake yet?”  
Lao Shui: “Yep, I’m up, babe! Why’d you wake up so early today?”  
Wife: “Had a weird dream… woke me up.”  
Lao Shui: “What kind of dream? Ling Meng Er Ji Ling Wu Sha Bei Qi Yi San…”  
(He typed nonsense while wiping sweat from his brow.)

“…”  
“I dreamed about that creepy guy—the one with unclear motives who kept approaching me.”

Instantly, Xia Yan’s protective instincts flared. His expression hardened:  
“Don’t worry, babe. I’ve got you.”  
“If he dares harass you again, just tell me—I’ll punch him so hard he’ll be picking his teeth off the ground 😡👊🏻.”  
“What kind of sleazy loser doesn’t know his place??”

But instead of her usual teasing or calling him “shrimp-head,” her reply caught him off guard. He stared at the screen, stunned.

“Okay.”  
“I… I’m really happy.”

And then—nothing more.

Xia Yan assumed she’d gone back to sleep, so he didn’t reply further, not wanting to disturb her.

Happy?  
Did something good happen today?  
That didn’t quite fit her usual vibe…  
Well… maybe she’s just in a better mood now that he’s gone?

He crushed the empty water bottle and tossed it into a bin. Just as he looked up, a familiar figure caught his eye.

“Caught you again, huh?”  
Lin Qingyu stood with her arms crossed, a playful smirk on her lips. She’d swapped her usual long sleeves and pants for a pure white knee-length dress.  
“Going to make me sweat this time too?”  
“Won’t you find me gross, senior?”

She shrugged lightly, her gaze briefly flickering over the faint outline of his abs. “If someone finally pays back that meal they owe me, I might consider forgiving them.”

Xia Yan thought for a moment, then smiled. “How about sour-and-spicy noodles? There’s a great place right outside the gate—though maybe it’s too heavy for breakfast, don’t you think?”

“No problem for me,” she replied, unusually bold compared to her usual reserved demeanor. “Whatever you like, I probably like too.”

Buzz buzz.  
His phone vibrated.

“I’ll lead the way,” he said with a grin, walking past her without falling into step beside her. He glanced at his phone—  
the WeChat profile picture displayed elegant, stylized script: “Mufei Cake Shop.”