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Shen Xi had an epiphany.
After some thought, he decided he didn’t want to express his feelings in such a clichéd way.
He raised his head, his eyes darkening slightly, but his tone remained light and casual.
“I think... it’s just average.”
The words ”Not as beautiful as you” had just formed in his mind, ready to be spoken at the perfect moment. But before he could, the wind howled like an approaching storm, and Shen Xi braced himself—
—only to be interrupted by a loud ”BEEP—!”
A taxi honked three times in a row, flashing its lights as it pulled up beside them.
The driver rolled down the window, sticking out a round head. ”Need a ride, buddy?!”
Shen Xi: ”......”
Lin Zhan, still holding her painting board, climbed into the car and sighed inwardly.
...Does Shen Xi even get it?
I can’t exactly hold a knife to his throat and demand, “Do you want to be with me or not?”...
Exhausted, she didn’t even finish that thought before dozing off against the seat.
The car soon arrived at her apartment. Shen Xi glanced at her sleeping face, hesitated, then gently patted her shoulder.
“Lin Zhan, we’re here.”
She blinked groggily, her eyes still hazy with sleep. ”Huh?” She looked at Shen Xi, then out the window, mumbling, ”Oh...”
Yawning, she stretched slightly before grabbing her painting board and moving to get out.
Sensing her unsteadiness, Shen Xi quickly raised a hand to shield her head, preventing her from bumping into the car roof.
Embarrassed, Lin Zhan pushed the door open. The night breeze helped clear her head.
Rubbing her temples, she muttered, ”I’m still half-asleep...”
Shen Xi walked her to the building entrance. Just as she turned to leave, he called out to her.
Lin Zhan looked back under the dim light. ”Yeah?”
Shen Xi steadied himself before speaking. ”Don’t sleep in taxis at night. It’s dangerous.”
“Got it,” Lin Zhan mumbled. ”I only did it because you were there.”
He sounded so serious—I thought he was going to say something important...
Shen Xi opened his mouth, then closed it again before finally saying, ”Alright, go inside.”
Lin Zhan shuffled her feet. ”Okay, you head back too.”
Only after watching her enter the elevator did Shen Xi turn to leave.
As he walked away, he glanced up at the sky—empty except for a few scattered stars.
That line...
Never mind. There’ll be other chances.
Back in the waiting taxi, Shen Xi gave his address.
The driver eyed him through the rearview mirror.
“You came all this way just to drop off your girlfriend?”
________________________________________
After careful consideration, Lin Zhan and Zheng Yimian settled on ”Tingmo Art Studio.”
One of W City’s larger studios, Tingmo had an elite class for students of their caliber.
Since this year’s provincial art exams were moved up, the training schedule was adjusted accordingly.
Tingmo’s intensive training would officially begin on July 1st.
The elite class would also have top-tier instructors from out of town, tailoring lessons to individual needs.
On the evening of June 30th, Lin Zhan and the others planned a small farewell gathering before their half-year departure.
But before the event, their teacher summoned them for a talk.
Apparently, the head of the art department had concerns.
On the way, Sun Hong gossiped: ”I heard it’s not about us. Some students from the science-focused classes want to switch to art last-minute. The school thinks it’s too risky, so they’re trying to nip it in the bud.”
Lin Zhan nodded. ”It’s normal for the school to intervene if it’s a rushed decision.”
But they were wrong. The teacher didn’t just dissuade the latecomers—she also tried to convince Lin Zhan and Zheng Yimian to stay.
“You two are already at a high level under Teacher Huang’s guidance. The school will ramp up training intensity later. Trust our resources.”
After all, losing too many students would affect the school’s reputation.
But Chonggao High was known for its science and liberal arts programs, not art. Lin Zhan and Zheng Yimian needed more experienced teachers to push them further.
And Tingmo’s faculty was irresistibly impressive.
Still, after the teacher’s lengthy persuasion, they could only nod. ”We’ll discuss it with our parents.”
Once out of the office, Sun Hong asked, ”Are you really reconsidering?”
Lin Zhan rubbed her temples. ”I don’t know what they’re thinking. I don’t mind leaving in August instead—it’d give me another month to focus on academics.”
Zheng Yimian agreed. ”I’ll talk to my parents too.”
Though unsure if they’d leave the next day, their classmates seemed to assume they would.
Jiang Qin, who was staying, gave them both gifts.
“In case you don’t come back tomorrow.”
Other close friends also gave parting presents.
At home, Lin Zhan received a message from Shen Xi:
[Not leaving anymore?]
After a pause, she replied:
[Not sure. My family’s still discussing.]
Shen Xi glanced at the pale green gift box on his desk—meant for her today.
But after hearing from Zhang Ze about the teacher’s intervention, he assumed she wasn’t leaving.
So he never gave it to her.
Lin Zhan peeked outside her room.
Jiang Wan and Lin Zhengping were debating.
Jiang Wan wanted her to start at the studio tomorrow, preparing for the exams.
“She still needs to learn color portrait techniques for some school exams. The earlier, the better.”
Lin Zhengping argued there was no rush.
“Few schools test that, and it’s usually post-provincial exam material. She doesn’t need to go so early—only the beginners do. She just needs to maintain her skills for now.”
Seeing no immediate resolution, Lin Zhan closed the door and returned to her unfinished painting.
The ruins’ details were painstaking—each tiny section took half an hour of meticulous brushwork.
Midway, Jiang Wan came in with milk.
“Don’t stay up too late.”
Lin Zhan asked, ”Did you decide?”
Jiang Wan: ”What do you think?”
Lin Zhan shrugged. ”Doesn’t matter to me. A month won’t make or break my skills.”
Right now, she just wanted to finish this painting.
Jiang Wan sighed. ”We’re still discussing. Sleep early—if you’re going tomorrow, I’ll wake you up.”
Lin Zhan: ”Class starts at eight.”
Jiang Wan: ”But you’ll need time to pack.”
After Jiang Wan left, Lin Zhan mixed more colors—blue-grays and muted oranges to avoid overly vibrant tones.
By 11 PM, she showered while her parents called other families with art students for advice.
Lin Zhan: ”......”
Is this really necessary?
She bid Shen Xi goodnight and went to bed early.
________________________________________
The next morning, Jiang Wan shook her awake.
“We decided—you’re going today.”
Still half-asleep, Lin Zhan fumbled for her alarm clock.
Jiang Wan: ”Hurry up! You need to bring all your paints!”
Tingmo Studio was a 40-minute drive away. She had an hour to get ready.
Since she wasn’t going to school, she could wear casual clothes.
While picking an outfit, she called Zheng Yimian on speakerphone.
Zheng Yimian’s groggy voice answered: ”Hmm?”
Lin Zhan: ”School or studio today?”
Zheng Yimian yawned: ”Studio.”
Lin Zhan: ”Me too. You’ve got an hour-long commute—don’t be late.”
“Yeah,” Zheng Yimian said. ”Getting up now.”
“Okay, bye.”
“Bye.”
Lin Zhan packed her paints, brushes, and a bucket. The studio provided easels and boards.
After fixing her hair, she headed out.
________________________________________
Tingmo Studio’s environment was pristine—polished microcrystalline tiles, spacious classrooms, morning sunlight spilling like gold dust.
The walls, repainted annually, displayed instructors’ works. On a nearby stand stood immaculate plaster casts, obviously well maintained.
Lin Zhan greeted the bespectacled Teacher Song.
“Hello, just sit anywhere.”
Choosing a window seat, Lin Zhan introduced herself.
Teacher Song smiled. ”I’ve seen your work in competitions. Your style is unique—nurture it, and you’ll excel in the exams.”
Lin Zhan grinned. ”Then I’ll be counting on your guidance.”
Zheng Yimian arrived just in time, panting.
“Thank goodness you called—I overslept.”
Lin Zhan: ”Sit quick. We’re starting soon.”
Once everyone arrived, Teacher Song laid down the rules.
“Phones go in the door pouch. No using them in class.”
A collective groan rose.
Teacher Song continued: ”Turn them off or on airplane mode. Only emergencies go through my phone.”
Grudgingly, everyone surrendered their devices.
Lin Zhan powered hers off and dropped it in the pouch.
Zheng Yimian blinked. ”You’re shutting it off?”
Lin Zhan shrugged. ”No one messages me anyway.”
Zheng Yimian: ”Same. Off it is.”
Back at their seats, Lin Zhan asked, ”Did Sun Hong and the others find studios?”
Zheng Yimian unpacked her supplies. ”Yeah, but far from here.”
Lin Zhan unfolded her collapsible bucket. ”Big studios are strict—they’ll confiscate phones too.”
Teacher Song handed out assignments: ”Finish this in three hours.”
The still life was complex—tight timing.
Zheng Yimian excelled at these, her initial strokes already elegant.
Teacher Song nodded. ”Good, but less white next time—it flattens the background.”
To Lin Zhan: ”Brighten the highlights—they’re too gray.”
The entire day, Lin Zhan immersed herself, adapting to the new instructor.
By evening, she and Zheng Yimian were starving and bolted out for food.
Returning with only 10 minutes to spare, Lin Zhan whispered:
“I’ll check my phone—cover for me.”
Tingmo’s rules were harsh—no phones even during breaks. They’d only get them back at 9:30 PM.
Lin Zhan’s phone didn’t show missed calls, only QQ messages.
The latest was from Jiang Qin:
[You’re not here today—already at the studio?]
Since it was open, Lin Zhan replied:
[Yeah, just arrived.]
As she was about to exit, Jiang Qin responded instantly:
[Why’d you reply so late?! I thought you just got there—were you on a plane?!]
Jiang Qin: [Which studio again?]
Lin Zhan typed ”Tingmo Studio,” then smirked and joked:
[Austin·Mo. Chinese name: Austin·Monet.]
[😇.JPG]
Jiang Qin’s thought process was uniquely chaotic. Once, Lin Zhan had joked about ”Franklin·Zhan”, and Jiang Qin seriously asked if someone had actually said, ”Those who steal my white paint shall be punished, no matter how far.”
This time, Jiang Qin fell for it again.
[OMG YOU WENT ABROAD?!]
[But that’s great! Teacher Huang always said your style was high-end. Soak up that capitalist air!]
[Wait—what about the provincial exam? Won’t foreign techniques mess you up?!]
Lin Zhan: [People change.]
Amused, she started typing, ”Stop being dumb—I didn’t go abroad,” but Zheng Yimian nudged her.
“Teacher’s coming—hurry!”
In her rush, Lin Zhan accidentally sent only:
[Stop.]
She hadn’t checked her other messages, but with the teacher approaching, she powered off.
Jiang Qin, staring at the lone ”Stop,” panicked.
After a long pause, she told a friend:
“I get it... She means ‘Stop telling people.’”
________________________________________
When the school bell rang, Shen Xi moved faster than usual.
Zhang Ze caught up, slinging an arm over his shoulder. ”What’s the rush?”
Shen Xi strode ahead. ”Whatever.”
Passing Class 3, he glanced inside.
The room seemed full, but Shen Xi immediately noticed—Lin Zhan’s seat was occupied by someone else.
The back row was empty.
Zhang Ze remarked: ”Only noticing now? She’s been gone all day.”
Shen Xi paused, then kept walking.
His phone buzzed—a flicker of hope—but it was just Zhang Ze calling from behind.
Zhang Ze laughed. ”Expecting someone else?”
Shen Xi hung up without a word.
Zhang Ze: ”You’ve been checking your phone all day. If she’s not reaching out, why not contact her?”
Shen Xi frowned. ”I did. No response.”
This was a first. Usually, even if she didn’t message him, he’d find out through others.
Now, he couldn’t reach her at all.
The unease left him restless—as if afraid she’d truly vanished.
Zhang Ze: ”How? Text?”
Shen Xi: ”Yes. No reply.”
Zhang Ze: ”Called?”
Shen Xi: ”Went straight to voicemail.”
Zhang Ze: ”What about Zheng Yimian? Sun Hong? Qi Lijie?”
Shen Xi: ”Don’t have their numbers.”
Zhang Ze pulled out his phone. ”I’ve got Sun Hong’s WeChat. I’ll ask.”
At dinner, Shen Xi barely ate, his foot tapping impatiently.
Zhang Ze, who’d rarely seen him so unsettled, checked his phone every minute.
“Weird—he usually replies instantly. It’s been 10 minutes... I’ll call him.”
No answer.
Zhang Ze sighed. ”Maybe his studio’s strict. First day and all.”
Shen Xi said nothing.
He wished that were the case.
Zhang Ze: ”Did Lin Zhan tell you which studio?”
Shen Xi: ”Last night, she hadn’t decided.”
Zhang Ze: ”She didn’t even text you this morning?! Didn’t she know you had a gift for her?!”
Shen Xi suppressed his unease. ”Probably just busy.”
Zhang Ze spotted Jiang Qin outside. ”Let’s ask her—she’s close to Lin Zhan.”
He dashed over. ”Jiang Qin! Do you know which studio Lin Zhan’s at?”
Jiang Qin turned, then beamed. ”Perfect timing—I just talked to her!”
Shen Xi’s gaze sharpened. ”Her phone’s off.”
Jiang Qin: ”Not for me. She replied an hour ago.”
Zhang Ze: ”What’d she say?”
Jiang Qin hesitated. ”...She told me not to tell.”
Zhang Ze glanced at Shen Xi.
Shen Xi’s voice was taut. ”She messaged you... but won’t say where she is?”
Jiang Qin, flustered under his intense stare, finally caved.
“She went abroad. To study art.”
Zhang Ze’s jaw dropped. ”No wonder her phone was off—she was on a damn plane!”
Shen Xi’s eyelids flickered, his lips pressing into a thin line.
Zhang Ze ranted: ”Why keep it a secret?!”
Jiang Qin: ”No idea.”
Shen Xi inhaled deeply. ”Let’s go.”
________________________________________
Zhang Ze babbled the whole way.
“It’s not a big deal—why hide it? Zheng Yimian, Sun Hong—they’re all in on it!”
“Even if she hid it from me, why not tell you? You’re way closer than Jiang Qin!”
That gave them both pause.
Zhang Ze swallowed hard. ”...Was she avoiding you? That’s the only explanation.”
Shen Xi’s steps faltered. ”I don’t know.”
Zhang Ze: ”Think—did you do something to upset her?”
Shen Xi recalled: ”When we last went out, she said ‘The moon is beautiful tonight.’ I said, ‘It’s average.’”
Zhang Ze: ”...And?”
Shen Xi: ”That’s it.”
Zhang Ze: ”No, there’s more. That lecture—she called the coffee pull-tab a ‘token of love,’ and you told her to throw it away. She seemed off after that.”
Shen Xi: ”......”
Zhang Ze: ”You remember now?”
Shen Xi’s eyes darkened. ”I didn’t mean it like that.”
Zhang Ze: ”She didn’t know that. Think about it—she’s been chasing you for over half a year. Maybe those two times, she was mustering courage, and you shut her down. Maybe she gave up.”
He continued: ”She left so quietly because she knew you wouldn’t stop her. I read something once: ‘The quietest goodbyes are the final ones.’ That’s why she was so calm.”
“She’s a girl—some things are hard to say outright. Once she felt it was enough, she withdrew.”
Shen Xi stepped on a loose pebble—a habit Lin Zhan loved.
He remembered how she’d fidget with small objects when nervous or lying.
He could always tell.
But yesterday, he hadn’t seen her face.
A wave of exhaustion hit him.
Zhang Ze, pitying him, said, ”She’s gone. Don’t dwell on it. Just hope she doesn’t start dating abroad—foreign guys are charming, and Lin Zhan’s gorgeous...”
Shen Xi shot him a glare. ”Shut up.”
Zhang Ze: ”Damn, just being honest! Don’t look at me like you’ll murder me!”
Trying to console him, Zhang Ze added: ”If you don’t like her, just let it go...”
Shen Xi stopped dead, his bottled-up emotions finally erupting.
“If I didn’t like her, why would I act this way? Do I look insane to you?!”
Zhang Ze whooped. ”FINALLY! Took you long enough to admit it! If you’d said it sooner, she wouldn’t have left!”
Passersby stared.
Zhang Ze calmed down, muttering, ”Why am I so excited? It’s not like my crush left.”
More seriously, he said: ”If she were still here, this confession might’ve worked. But now? Too late. Your passivity screwed you over. If you could do it again, would you still hesitate?”
Without waiting for an answer, he said: ”If it were me, I’d be so proactive it’d scare her.”
“But it doesn’t matter now. You don’t get a second chance, Shen Xi.”
The words magnified Shen Xi’s regret, seeping into every fiber of his being.
Zhang Ze was right.
There were no do-overs.
If I could go back...
I wouldn’t let her leave.
But it was too late.
________________________________________
At 9:30 PM, Tingmo’s class finally ended.
Everyone groaned, stretching as they retrieved their phones.
Lin Zhan and Zheng Yimian stayed put.
Lin Zhan had finished her sketches early and was now touching up her unfinished painting.
Only a third of the ruins remained.
To steady her hand, she braced her right wrist with her left, meticulously detailing each broken brick.
Teacher Song watched her small, precise color mixes. ”Not leaving yet?”
Lin Zhan dabbed vermilion, blending in green. ”I’ll head back after this.”
Teacher Song nodded. ”You thrive without constraints. This piece has potential—let me know when it’s done. I know some competition judges.”
Lin Zhan thanked her.
By 10:30 PM, her limbs ached.
Zheng Yimian, sharpening a pencil, asked, ”Hungry?”
Lin Zhan grinned. ”Let’s grab a midnight snack. I should head back anyway.”
She’d called Jiang Wan, who’d packed a change of clothes in her bag, saying she could stay overnight near the studio if needed.
But since Zheng Yimian hadn’t brought spare clothes, Lin Zhan decided to go home.
Locking the studio, Zheng Yimian waited by the elevator.
Lin Zhan jingled her keys. ”What do you want?”
Zheng Yimian licked her lips. ”There’s BBQ, red bean cakes, shaved ice... You pick.”
Lin Zhan: ”Anything’s fine.”
The elevator opened to warm orange lights.
The night market was alive with enticing aromas.
Lin Zhan pushed open the security door, inhaling deeply. ”Smells amazing...”
Then she froze.
She and Zheng Yimian stared at each other.
“Did we... forget our phones?”
Zheng Yimian sighed. ”The imaginary feast betrayed us.”
If they hadn’t fantasized about food earlier, they wouldn’t have left their phones behind.
Lin Zhan shrugged. ”Whatever. I’ll just use my mom’s phone to message Shen Xi later. You, though? No one to talk to.”
Zheng Yimian: ”Wow.”
They bought skewers first—crispy sausages glazed with sweet-spicy sauce and sesame seeds, sizzling on the grill like stranded fish.
The vendor handed them each one wrapped in paper.
As Lin Zhan paid, Zheng Yimian suddenly gasped.
“That drunk guy kinda looks like Shen Xi...”
Lin Zhan scoffed. ”Slander is illegal—”
She looked up.
“HOLY SHIT, SHEN XI?!”
Across the street, a figure was being half-dragged by two others, head lolling back, throat exposed under the dim light.
Abandoning their food, Lin Zhan sprinted over during the green light.
“...Shen Xi?”
Zhang Ze, exhausted, nearly dropped Shen Xi’s arm when he saw her.
“WHAT THE—GHOST?!”
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