By Monday, the school no longer felt the same.
The walls didn't echo with the usual laughter, only whispers sharp enough to pierce through silence.
"They said there were scars on his stomach too."
"Wrists, neck… who knows where else?"
"Ugh, maybe his whole body is ruined."
"Shh! Don't say it so loud. What if he hears?"
"Don't you think it's pathetic though? A boy like him—"
"Or maybe it's tragic…"
An Ran sat at her desk, the words crawling into her ears no matter how tightly she pressed her pen against her notebook. Each whisper gnawed at her until she could almost see them, pale skin, trembling hands, hollow eyes. The image of Qin Mo gasping for breath on the floor replayed in her mind, a memory that clung to her like a bruise she couldn't hide.
She lowered her head, trying to push it away, but her chest tightened.
When Qin Mo entered the classroom, the noise faltered.
The hollow thud of his sneakers carried through the room, his hood pulled low, hands shoved into his pockets. His expression was as dull and detached as if nothing had ever happened. As if the rumors were about someone else entirely.
The whispers returned, softer now, but sharper for their restraint.
Yet Qin Mo walked past them like a shadow. Not a twitch, not a blink.
An Ran's throat ached. She wanted to stand up, to cross the aisle, to ask him if he was alright. To tell him she was sorry. But her feet stayed rooted to the floor.
Her guilt pressed heavier than her own weight. If I hadn't dragged him to that audition hall…
By the time she gathered courage after class, he was already at his desk, quietly flipping through papers. His desk was neat, almost too neat, as though order itself was the only thing holding him together.
She walked toward him, palms damp, voice stuck in her throat.
"Qin Mo…"
He didn't answer.
Instead, he slid a thick answer sheet toward her and dropped a past-questions textbook on top.
Her eyes widened. The pages were covered, line after line, every tiny circle ticked. Hundreds of answers. Thousands. He'd completed the entire booklet she'd given him weeks ago.
Her heart lurched.
For a moment, fear squeezed her chest. Does he not want to study with me anymore?
"You…" her voice cracked, "…you finished everything?"
He leaned back in his seat, gaze unfocused. His tone was flat, almost empty.
"You said it helps."
The words sent a chill down her spine. It wasn't diligence. It wasn't effort. It was something darker, as though he had clung to her words like they were his last anchor.
An Ran's breath caught when she flipped through the pages.
Every circle filled. Every problem answered. From the first page to the very last.
Her throat tightened. He actually did it… every single question.
She looked up at Qin Mo, meaning to say something, anything, but before the words could form, a laugh floated in from the doorway.
"An Ran! I knew I'd find you here."
She turned, startled, and saw a familiar figure sweeping into the classroom with her usual bright energy. Jiang Yueran, the girl she'd met at the audition. Her smile was so radiant it seemed to bring light into the stale room. Behind her, moving with a kind of sluggish disinterest, was another girl with sleek braids and narrowed eyes, Li shiqing.
Before An Ran could react, Yueran leaned in and hugged her. "You really don't step out of this class, do you? I swear, you're always tucked away in here."
An Ran stiffened, caught completely off guard. Warmth flooded her cheeks at the unexpected friendliness.
"Hi," Yueran added casually as she straightened. But the boy didn't respond, didn't even glance her way. His gaze stayed forward, jaw tight.
Li Shiqing scoffed under her breath. "Rude."
Yueran brushed it off with a small laugh, as though Qin Mo's silence meant nothing. She turned back to An Ran, eyes shining with curiosity. "So, how did your audition go?"
An Ran forced a small laugh, waving her hand. "It was… fine."
But inside, the truth clawed at her. It wasn't fine. I dragged him there and triggered something I don't understand. And me? I was shaking so much I can't even remember if I did well or just ruined everything. Her eyes drifted sideways to Qin Mo. His jaw was clenched now, muscles sharp under his skin. Is it because we're crowding him? Or… something else?
Yueran clapped her hands together lightly. "Anyway, we're having a study session later. You should join us!"
Li Shiqing's head snapped around, shock breaking through her calm mask. "What?"
An Ran blinked. "Me?"
"Yes, you," Yueran teased warmly. "It won't hurt to have one more learner."
"It'll be fun," Yueran said breezily, ignoring her friend's protest. "I'll text you the location later, An Ran."
It was then, snap.
The sharp sound cut through the air.
An Ran looked over. Qin Mo's pen was split clean in his hand, ink spilling across his fingers. His gaze lifted at last, dark and unreadable, locking briefly onto Yueran. The brightness drained from her face.
"…Right. We'll get going." Yueran laughed nervously, tugging Li Shiqing by the arm toward the door. "See you later, An Ran!".
Ink smeared over Qin Mo's pale hand. An Ran's chest tightened at the sight. She scrambled for a tissue from her bag, leaning toward him. "You... why did you do that? you're bleeding ink everywhere, let me... "
Her voice softened as she dabbed carefully at his skin, but she didn't notice the way his eyes had shifted past her shoulder.
At the doorway, half-hidden in shadow, Jiang Cheng stood watching. His gaze was steady, unreadable, lingering on Qin Mo before it finally dropped to the girl still bent over his hand.