Shocking Change

How long had it been since she last thought about those past events? An Ruxin asked herself.

Back in high school, they didn’t separate students into different classes. Before the start of the first year, An Ruxin had advanced into the so-called “Rocket Class,” and from then on, she had been one of the mediocre students among the elite. When they split into arts and sciences tracks, like most of her classmates, she chose science and continued on with the same group all the way through to senior year, the college entrance exam, and graduation.

High school was focused on academics, and most students looked worn out and disheveled—An Ruxin included. But there were always a few exceptions, the kind of people who seemed born under a lucky star. Like Bai Miaoqing in their class.

From the very first day of school to the end of their college entrance exams, Bai Miaoqing had always stood out. She could sing and dance, play the piano, spoke well, and was generally likable. Her grades were excellent, her looks stunning, and she had a sense of style that didn’t interfere with her studies. In sophomore year, she even curled the ends of her hair without permission, and the teachers just let it slide.

She was unique. She drew attention. She stood head and shoulders above the rest.

At first, An Ruxin had simply admired her. Naively, she’d hoped to become friends with her, or maybe even become someone like her. But over time, An Ruxin noticed that Bai Miaoqing wasn’t just talented—she also had a kind and gentle personality. Every gesture of hers seemed to make people like her even more. Gradually, what had started as innocent admiration during that confusing phase of adolescence began to bend into something deeper and more certain. And eventually, An Ruxin found herself developing a subtle crush on her.

The moment she fully fell into that one-sided affection was probably during the New Year’s performance in their first year.

As a kid, An Ruxin had attended quite a few extracurricular classes. She wasn’t particularly talented in any of them, but she could sing decently and would hum to herself when bored. She’d never thought of performing on stage—always assumed she’d freeze up in front of a crowd—but now and then, she did wish for a round of applause just for her. That awkward desire to shine yet fear being seen defined much of her teenage years.

She remembered it clearly—the day before the performance sign-up closed. After evening study, she was packing her bag to leave when she suddenly noticed a tall, elegant girl standing in front of her. Tall figure, sunny smile, practically model-like—it was none other than class belle Bai Miaoqing.

An Ruxin got so nervous she nearly bit her tongue. Trying to act calm, she asked, “What’s up?”

Bai Miaoqing smiled and said, “Ruxin, how about performing something? You have such a lovely singing voice.”

An Ruxin was shocked and repeatedly refused, but in the end, she was persuaded. Bai Miaoqing had patted her chest and promised, “We’ll do a duet together.” An Ruxin didn’t remember much else. What stuck with her was Bai Miaoqing saying, “I believe you can do it. You have to believe in yourself too—or at least believe in me.”

No one—not even her parents—had ever looked her in the eye and said, “I believe in you.”

So, An Ruxin said yes. The performance went great, the applause was thunderous, her heart was racing, and Bai Miaoqing stood right beside her the whole time. She even remembered turning her head during the curtain call to glance at Bai Miaoqing’s profile. For a moment, the applause and cheers disappeared, the spotlight and stage faded, her nerves vanished, and all thoughts in her mind just ceased. In that moment, all she could see was Bai Miaoqing’s profile—the curve of her lashes.

An Ruxin had thought, dazedly: She’s so beautiful.

Of course, life wasn’t a musical. There would be no dramatic reversal, no invisible underdog’s triumphant comeback. After that, until now, An Ruxin had never stepped on stage again—maybe from nerves, maybe from losing interest. She couldn’t be bothered to analyze it. After the performance, she and Bai Miaoqing hadn’t really become close either. An Ruxin had simply started her quiet little crush.

And that was all.

“If not for what happened later, maybe my impression of Bai Miaoqing wouldn’t be this deep…” An Ruxin’s thoughts wandered.

Just then, Bai Miaoqing came out holding a cup of hot water, breaking her train of thought.

With a sheepish smile, Bai Miaoqing said, “It’s been so long since I had a guest. I had to wash the cup for ages… left you sitting out here—have some water?”

“You didn’t have to… really, I… I won’t trouble you any longer, I should go,” An Ruxin said, already standing up. Bai Miaoqing instinctively moved to stop her, but clumsily bumped into the table, spilling hot water all over it.

She yelped and hurried to clean up the mess of clothes and junk on the table. An Ruxin stood there awkwardly, at a loss for words, staring blankly at Bai Miaoqing’s hands—only to catch sight of a photo frame that had been face-down. Bai Miaoqing picked it up without thinking.

As it was lifted, An Ruxin caught a glimpse of the photo inside. It looked like two little girls posing together. One seemed to be Bai Miaoqing, the other unfamiliar—but also a delicate-looking child.

Probably an old photo. An Ruxin didn’t think much of it.

Bai Miaoqing scrambled to find a rag, wiping the table while apologizing nonstop: “I’m sorry, I’m so clumsy… did you get burned?”

For some reason, An Ruxin suddenly felt a little upset. She shook her head. “No. I won’t bother you anymore—get some rest… I’ll go now…”

“Oh, okay…” Bai Miaoqing’s expression stiffened, and her smile looked oddly pitiful. “Then, old classmate… let’s keep in touch?”

“Sure. Let’s keep in touch,” An Ruxin replied.

As she stepped out and gently closed the door behind her, she saw Bai Miaoqing still standing beside the coffee table, holding a damp rag in her hand, dazed.

Once the door shut, An Ruxin couldn’t help letting out a long sigh.

…It would’ve been better if I hadn’t run into her today.

Just as that thought crossed her mind, she turned her head—and was startled: standing in the stairwell outside Bai Miaoqing’s apartment was a stylishly dressed woman. She looked to be around their age, had striking features with a hint of a mixed heritage look—stunning and hard to forget.

The woman’s eyes crinkled as she smiled at An Ruxin.

An Ruxin felt something strange. For some reason, the woman looked oddly familiar.

Had she been standing outside Bai Miaoqing’s door this whole time? Was she a friend here to visit? That didn’t seem quite right…

…As much as An Ruxin hated to assume, considering Bai Miaoqing’s current state, it didn’t seem likely she’d have such glamorous friends.

Driven by some unexplained instinct, An Ruxin walked down a few steps, then paused, deciding to wait and see what the woman would do.

Truthfully, the woman was gorgeous and aligned with An Ruxin’s orientation—if she had met her before, she definitely wouldn’t have forgotten.

But if she hadn’t met her… why did she look familiar?

The woman didn’t seem surprised by An Ruxin’s lingering. She simply raised an eyebrow, smiled again, and without a word, walked up to Bai Miaoqing’s door. She pulled a key from her pocket and unlocked it with practiced ease, stepping right inside.

An Ruxin clearly heard the sound of the lock turning behind her.

Several thoughts flashed through her mind at once—the first of which, absurdly, was: Is Bai Miaoqing living with her girlfriend?

She immediately berated herself. She and Bai Miaoqing weren’t even close anymore, hadn’t seen each other in years—how could she be so irrationally bothered by a wild guess like that? Logically, it made more sense if the woman was just a roommate.

But then another thought came to mind: Bai Miaoqing’s place was tiny. From memory, it was barely a one-bedroom with a kitchen and a bathroom. Could two people even share that space? Not to mention the chaos—it didn’t look like a shared apartment. Clothes and junk were strewn everywhere. It clearly wasn’t kept with another person in mind…

And just like that, a sudden realization struck An Ruxin—she finally figured out why the woman had looked familiar.

She was the other little girl from the photo.

The woman’s features hadn’t changed much with age, and she’d already been striking in that childhood picture. Plus, An Ruxin had just seen the photo before leaving, and now had seen the person herself—no wonder the impression stuck.

…So maybe that woman and Bai Miaoqing really are childhood friends who grew up together. If she has a key to Bai Miaoqing’s place, isn’t that perfectly normal? Who was she to be standing here overthinking it all? And to top it off, she’d just been foolishly watching the woman walk in—what if the two of them laughed about it later and shared her weird behavior with each other? The more she thought about it, the more her stomach started to churn. An Ruoxin shook her head hard. This whole day had been a disaster.

Why was she still so hung up on Bai Miaoqing? She had changed so much—the girl she once liked probably didn’t even exist anymore…

Is it just that first loves are hard to forget? An Ruoxin mocked herself: if that’s the case, then I must really be full of myself. This wasn’t even a first love—it was just a crush, a one-sided one at that.

“Wake up, An Ruoxin. Did you forget what happened after the college entrance exam?” she muttered, like she was trying to hypnotize herself.

Time to go home.

Feeling tangled up inside, An Ruoxin turned to head down the stairs. She’d only taken a few steps when suddenly, from behind the closed door, came Bai Miaoqing’s blood-curdling scream of terror!