The sharp morning sunlight pierced through my eyelids, making me turn over in irritation. My fingers gripped the pillow tightly. My eyes opened once, then closed again, and finally settled into the silence of the room.
Today was the day.
A completely unfamiliar school. My very first class. Strange faces. A peculiar knot twisted in the pit of my stomach—a sharp blend of excitement and nervousness that always crawled along the spine just before every new beginning.
The comforting aroma of steaming rice and freshly fried dough drifted upstairs from the kitchen.
I adjusted the stiff collar of my new uniform. A crisp white shirt, a deep navy blazer, and a pleated skirt that brushed against my knees. The bow tied to my shoelaces was slightly crooked, so I bent down and straightened it. My shoulder-length hair was much neater today, and my curtain bangs rested perfectly across my forehead. Slinging my school bag over my shoulder, I walked toward the dining table.
My brother, Lin Yichen, was already sprawled across his chair.
The table was filled with a traditional Chinese breakfast—hot congee, golden fried youtiao, and glasses of freshly made soy milk. Even in this unfamiliar city and new house, Mom had managed to preserve the same old kitchen. Maybe that's why some places never feel completely foreign—because their fragrance never changes.
"So, from today onward, the official new chapter of this mute girl begins," Yichen mumbled through a mouthful of youtiao.
"Chew first, then talk nonsense," I muttered, sliding my bowl slightly closer.
Just then, Mom's silhouette appeared at the kitchen doorway. Zhao Wenli wiped her fingers with the cloth in her hand before fixing her sharp gaze directly on me. There was that familiar warning in her eyes—the one that always appeared before sending me off.
"Anxi, it's your first day. Don't argue with anyone. And one more thing—" She paused for a moment, her expression hardening. "—Less writing stories, more studying your textbooks. Understood? If I receive even a single complaint from school this time, all those comic sketches and story notebooks will go straight into the trash."
My fingers froze around the spoon.
"Mom... they're not just stories—"
"Anxi."
Just one word.
But the firmness in her tone blocked every path forward. I lowered my head and swallowed a spoonful of congee. It tasted completely flavorless.
Behind his newspaper, Dad—Lin Haoran—quietly turned another page. His eyes peeked over the paper, and a faint, reassuring smile appeared at the corners of his lips.
"Go, sweetheart. The first day always teaches you something worthwhile."
His gentle voice calmed the storm inside me almost instantly. Tightening the strap of my school bag, I headed toward the front door.
The air outside still carried the pleasant coolness of the morning, although yesterday's heat continued to rise from the concrete road. The leaves on the trees swayed with remarkable determination.
I filled my lungs with fresh air.
'Alright, Lin Anxi. You can do this.'
Just then, movement caught my attention near the heavy gate across the street.
Shen Yutong stood there in her school uniform. Her hair was tied into two neat braids while her mother adjusted her loose necktie with careful fingers. The moment the little girl noticed me, her face lit up, and she waved enthusiastically.
I walked toward them.
Seeing me, her mother straightened her posture slightly and offered a polite, measured smile.
"You're the new neighbor, aren't you?" Her voice was calm.
"Yes." I bowed slightly in a polite Chinese greeting. "My name is Lin Anxi."
"I'm Liu Shuyan," she replied with a gentle tilt of her head. "Yutong's mother."
"Big Sister!"
Yutong rushed forward and grabbed my wrist. Her tiny palms were wonderfully warm.
"We'll meet at the park after school, right?"
"Of course." I gently tapped her nose. Her carefree laughter washed away the last traces of hesitation inside me.
Just then, the sound of hurried footsteps and dragging shoes echoed from behind.
"Anxi~!"
Gu Xiaoran came to a stop beside us, breathing heavily. Her skirt was slightly shorter than school regulations allowed, the top button of her shirt was undone, and her hair had only been half-heartedly tied up. Even within such strict discipline, she had somehow found her own way to rebel.
She narrowed her eyes and looked me up and down, as though an artist were inspecting an unfinished painting.
"That ponytail is absolutely perfect. And by the way, that color really suits you."
The skin on my cheeks suddenly grew warm.
Lowering my gaze, I quietly replied, "You look nice too."
She accepted the compliment as though it were simply an undeniable fact rather than a favor.
Grabbing my hand, she started leading me toward school.
The building ahead was far larger than I had imagined.
Towering white walls, endless rows of blue windows, and an enormous stream of students flowing through the main gate. Everyone wore the same uniform, yet every face carried a completely different world. Some were buried in their books, while others laughed loudly with their arms slung over their friends' shoulders.
I followed closely behind Xiaoran as we made our way through the crowded corridors.
She kept talking nonstop—which teachers to avoid, which corner was perfect for skipping class. I simply followed behind her, quietly engraving everything around me into my memory.
Suddenly, Xiaoran stopped outside a classroom.
"Wait. Let me introduce you to someone."
A girl stood in front of us.
Her straight, silky hair reached all the way to her waist. Not a single wrinkle could be found on her perfectly worn uniform. She was carefully scrolling through her phone screen. Hearing our footsteps, she slowly lifted her eyes.
Her gaze landed on me.
For a brief moment, something subtle flickered within her eyes—a quiet evaluation, as though she had measured my worth within a single second.
"Tang Yuwei," Xiaoran said, lightly touching her shoulder, "this is Lin Anxi. Our new classmate."
Yuwei tightened her grip around her phone slightly.
There was no bitterness in her voice.
But there was no warmth either.
Only a dry neutrality.
"A new friend. On the very first day. Impressive."
Without smiling, she lowered her gaze back to her screen.
I pressed my dry lips together and walked inside.
The moment I stepped into the classroom, the gentle hum of the air conditioner and the silence sealed behind the closed windows welcomed me. Wooden desks stood neatly arranged in rows. The whiteboard was perfectly clean.
I placed my bag on the third desk in the middle row.
Xiaoran sat directly behind me, while Tang Yuwei quietly took the last seat beside the window.
Opening my bag, I pulled out a fresh notebook and placed it on my desk.
Mom's stern voice echoed through my ears once again.
I clenched my fingers.
'Just study.'
But my habits were more stubborn than I was.
Almost instinctively, my fingers began folding the corner of the notebook—the exact place where I usually started sketching.
Then, the atmosphere inside the room suddenly became heavy.
It wasn't because someone made noise.
It was because all the noise had suddenly disappeared.
The girls who had been whispering immediately fell silent. Chairs scraped against the floor as everyone straightened in their seats.
I turned my head.
A boy was standing at the doorway.
The collar of his uniform was so perfectly straight that it looked freshly pressed. Every button of his blazer was fastened. One hand casually held the strap of his school bag—careless, yet somehow completely controlled. His thick hair brushed against his eyebrows, falling just above his eyes.
And his face—
It was completely expressionless.
There was no anger.
No frown.
Only a silence so distant that it felt more unfamiliar than a locked door.
Another boy followed directly behind him. Unlike the first, he wore an easy, friendly smile and nodded toward a few boys the moment he entered.
But the first boy—
His gaze remained perfectly straight ahead.
Without looking at anyone, he walked toward his seat with calm, measured steps.Just then, his gaze shifted toward my desk.
For a single second, my heartbeat stopped.
Those same eyes—black, lifeless, and infinitely deep.
He looked at me, yet there wasn't the slightest movement in his pupils. Without slowing his pace, he continued walking, as though my existence meant no more than the empty air inside the classroom.
As the edge of his shirt brushed past my desk, I felt a faint chill graze my skin. For no reason at all, my cheeks began to burn. I rubbed my palms together.
"Anxi!"
Xiaoran squeezed my arm hard from behind. Her eyes were wide open with curiosity.
"Lu Jingkai! You're late again?" she called out to the smiling boy who was walking past us.
Lu Jingkai stopped, pressed his palms together dramatically, and gave a theatrical little bow.
"Gu Xiaoran, I swear, the traffic on the way today—"
"Complete lie," Xiaoran interrupted, pointing her pen at him.
"I'm telling the truth—"
"Absolutely a lie."
Their exchange was so effortless that it was obvious this was their daily routine.
But my attention wasn't there.
My eyes remained fixed on the far corner of the classroom, where that boy had already taken his seat.
His back was perfectly straight.
He opened a thick book and began turning its pages, as though the rest of the room simply didn't exist.
From behind me came Tang Yuwei's quiet, icy voice.
"Don't look at him too much. There's no point."
I turned toward her.
This time, she had placed her phone face down on the desk.
"Why?" I asked softly.
Xiaoran leaned closer until her voice became barely audible.
"He's Shen Yichen."
A name.
For the very first time, that face had a name.
"Mr. Devil."
I silently repeated it to myself.
Shen Yichen.
"Everyone keeps an arm's length away from him," Xiaoran whispered. "And the people who try to get close... always end up regretting it."
I paused for a moment, lightly running my fingers along the edge of my desk before asking with complete seriousness,
"Is that why everyone calls him Devil?"
Xiaoran nodded solemnly.
I looked out the window at the leaves swaying beneath the sunlight before lowering my gaze to my notebook.
"But Devils always make stories more interesting."
For a brief moment, silence settled over the room.
Then a muffled laugh escaped Xiaoran's lips.
Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Tang Yuwei's eyelids narrow for a split second before she looked away again.
Still, I could have sworn the faintest trace of a smile had appeared at the corners of her lips.
Just then, the first school bell rang loudly throughout the building.
The moment the bell stopped, every remaining sound inside the classroom disappeared as well.
The homeroom teacher walked in.
She was elderly, with deep wrinkles etched across her face and her hair tied into a high bun. Her footsteps were slow and heavy.
Everyone stood up from their chairs at once.
"Good morning, Ma'am," the entire class said in unison.
"Sit down."
Everyone took their seats.
The teacher opened the attendance register on her desk, flipped through several pages, then looked directly at me over the rim of her glasses.
"Lin Anxi."My name echoed strangely through the large classroom.
"Come here."
My hands turned slightly cold.
Leaving my bag behind, I rose from my seat and carefully walked to the front of the whiteboard. More than thirty pairs of eyes were now fixed directly on my face. Some were filled with curiosity, while others already looked completely bored.
I tried to keep my gaze from wandering, but it drifted toward the row on the left all on its own.
Shen Yichen.
He was leaning slightly over his desk, the pen between his fingers moving steadily across the paper. He didn't lift his head even once. It was as if my standing there wasn't a part of his world at all.
I pulled my gaze away and tightly gripped the hem of my blazer.
"This is Lin Anxi. She has transferred to our school from another city. Introduce yourself," the teacher said.
I bowed my head slightly and, keeping my voice as steady as possible, said,
"Hello. My name is Lin Anxi. I hope I'll get along with all of you very soon."
A few students in front simply nodded.
Just then, the teacher glanced at a note written in the corner of the attendance register, and her brows furrowed.
"Anxi, according to the records your mother sent from your previous school, you're quite weak academically. You have trouble focusing."
A few muffled laughs drifted through the silent classroom.
The skin around my ears and neck instantly turned red.
My fingers dug into the fabric of my blazer.
But I refused to lower my head.
Straightening my back completely, I took a deep breath and looked directly into the teacher's eyes.
"Yes, Ma'am. I'm an average student. But this time, I'll do my very best."
The teacher studied me for several seconds, as though weighing the sincerity behind my words.
Finally, she gestured with her hand.
"Alright. Go back to your seat."
I turned around.
And at that very moment, I felt an attentive gaze coming from my left.
I looked.
A boy was sitting in the first seat of the left row.
The shape of his eyes looked remarkably similar, yet there was a strange warmth and openness within them—something that didn't know how to hide itself.
The moment he realized I had caught him staring, he awkwardly lowered his gaze.
I started walking back toward my seat when the girl whose neighboring desk was empty stretched out her hand, blocking the chair.
Her hair was tied into two ponytails.
"Don't sit here," she said quietly but clearly. "This is Qiao Xinyi's seat. She's sick today. You're new here. It's better if you find another place to sit."
Another place.
But there didn't seem to be any other empty seat in the classroom.
Just then, the same boy who had been looking at me spoke up.
"Ma'am! Let Anxi sit beside me."
A ripple of whispers spread through the classroom.
The teacher looked up from the register.
"Shen Yuze, the seat beside you is reserved for Su Ruoxi."
The girl—Su Ruoxi—whose long wavy hair flowed down her back, glanced at Yuze with her bright eyes for a moment and quietly began gathering her books, as though preparing to move to that seat.
But the teacher paused for a long moment.
Then her lips parted.
"No. Anxi, go to the back and sit with Shen Yichen."
It felt as though every bit of air had suddenly been sucked out of the classroom.
A completely different kind of silence settled over the room.
My feet froze against the floor.
Shen Yichen.
Mr. Devil.
I looked toward the teacher, my fingers intertwining nervously.
"Ma'am... is there any other seat—"
"Shen Yichen is the top student in the class. Sitting beside him will help improve your studies."
There was no room for argument in the teacher's voice anymore.
I glanced around the classroom once.
Xiaoran's eyes had widened completely, and worry was written all over her face.
Tang Yuwei had already looked away, but her lips moved ever so slightly.
'Next to the Devil. Such bad luck.'
As Lu Jingkai walked past me, he looked at me and muttered very quietly, yet with complete seriousness,
"All the best."
Three simple words.
Yet they carried the entire truth of that classroom.
I picked up my school bag.
My steps suddenly felt incredibly heavy.
With every step I took, the silence inside the classroom grew even deeper.
When I reached his desk, I pulled the chair back slightly without looking at him.
The chair had already been placed unusually far away, as though someone had deliberately drawn a wide border between himself and everyone else.
I was just about to sit—
When...
With the index and middle finger of his left hand, he lightly touched the corner of the chair and, with perfect calm, silently pushed it even farther away.
There wasn't a single sound.
He didn't even turn his head to look at me.
It was simply one cold, unmistakable gesture.
You are not welcome here.
My hands tightened around the strap of my bag so hard that my knuckles turned white.
I steadied my breathing.
Without the slightest sign of panic, I calmly pulled the chair back to its original position and sat down.
I placed my bag beneath the desk, opened my notebook, and uncapped my pen.
Everything appeared perfectly normal.
As though nothing had happened.
But inside my chest, my heart was racing wildly.
From the corner of my eyes, I quietly studied his side profile.
His thick hair still concealed his eyes, and he made no effort to brush it aside.
His jawline was sharp and firm.
His lips were pressed together as though they had never learned how to open.
Every line of notes on the open pages of his textbook was perfectly straight, as if drawn with a ruler.
How could someone remain so emotionless...
...so cold?
Then, an old memory suddenly flashed through my mind.
Does he remember?
Yesterday afternoon.
That window.
The skin on my cheeks burned once again.
I immediately lowered my gaze to my blank notebook.
He must have forgotten.
He definitely must have forgotten.
Just then, a very soft, silky voice came from my left.
"So... you're Anxi."
Startled, I turned my head.
The boy—Shen Yuze—who sat at the front desk directly to my left had turned halfway toward me.
His eyes were shaped exactly the same.
But what floated inside them was entirely different.
A tired...
...yet genuine openness.
"I know you," he said, a faint, mysterious smile appearing on his lips.
My fingers froze around my pen.
After a brief pause, I asked softly,
"How?"
— Chapter 2 End —