The morning sunlight spilled across the campus courtyard, soft and golden, brushing against the white uniforms of students hurrying to classes. Wang Meilin hugged her camera bag a little tighter, feeling the familiar weight of invisibility settle around her. Another day, another series of unnoticed footsteps trailing behind her step-sister’s dazzling shadow.

“Meilin! Don’t forget breakfast,” her step-sister’s voice floated from the apartment across the street. Wang Yuxi always sounded like she was singing—even when she was ordering Meilin around. Perfect, fragile, untouchable… always the center of attention.

Meilin sighed, adjusting her hair and slipping into the dormitory gates. Today was just another ordinary day, or at least that’s what she told herself. The campus buzzed with chatter, and somewhere in the crowd, the popular students strode past—effortless, magnetic, untouchable in their own way. One of them was Feng Yichen. Calm, composed, almost untouchable, yet he had this uncanny ability to notice small things… like her lost gloves last week, or the crooked strap of her camera bag.

She froze for a moment as their eyes met—well, his eyes briefly scanned the crowd, lingering slightly longer on her than on anyone else. She ducked behind a tree, cheeks burning, telling herself he was probably just looking at… something else.

And then, laughter—loud, infectious, impossible to ignore. Tang Haoran. He was practicing a little jog through the courtyard, headphones dangling, bouncing with energy that could light up a room. Handsome in that casual, effortless way, the kind that made people stare and whisper. And of course, he noticed her. Somehow. Always.

“Hey! You there, with the camera!” he called, flashing a grin that made Meilin want to sink into the ground. “You taking pictures again? You know, the world’s not all shadows—you should step out into the light!”

Meilin blinked. “I-I… I’m just… capturing moments,” she stammered, tucking her camera closer. Her heart pounded in her chest. Why was she so nervous around these two boys? One calm and unreadable, the other bright and impossible to ignore.

Haoran tilted his head, smirk widening. “Moments, huh? Make sure you don’t miss the important ones,” he said, tossing a playful wink before jogging off toward the club building. Meilin’s cheeks burned again, but she couldn’t help smiling. Even from behind her camera lens, she felt… seen.

And then, a familiar shadow fell over her. Wang Yuxi. Perfectly dressed, hair flawless, eyes sparkling with mock concern. “Oh, Meilin, are you taking photos again? That’s… cute,” she said, voice sweet, but sharp enough to cut through any confidence Meilin had mustered.

Meilin stiffened. “I—I just like capturing things,” she said softly, carefully avoiding Yuxi’s gaze.

Yuxi tilted her head, the practiced fragile pose in place. “You’re always behind the scenes, aren’t you? Not like me…” She laughed lightly, the kind that made everyone around her notice her brilliance, her charm, and… Meilin shrink a little further.

Meilin adjusted the strap on her camera, feeling the weight of the lens almost like armor. Behind Yuxi, though, Meilin noticed the flutter of movement—Haoran and Yichen had stopped nearby, both glancing her way, though unaware of each other’s presence. She felt an odd twist of panic and… something else.

Her day continued in quiet bursts of observation: club members setting up the photo studio, her friends Zhang Rui and Sun Xiaotong waving at her, a small smile from Li Na. Each wave, each hello, felt like a lifeline. And still, the two boys lingered at the edges of her world—one calm, one energetic—both leaving her heart racing in very different ways.

As the morning faded into afternoon, Meilin snapped a photo of a stray cat curling up on the courtyard bench. For a moment, she forgot about shadows, step-sisters, and crushes. She was alone with the lens and the soft light—her own little sanctuary.

Until a familiar, infuriating voice broke the peace. “Wow… what a pretty shot! Did you take this?” Wang Yuxi held her own phone up, pretending to examine the camera. Meilin’s heart sank. Of course, Yuxi had to notice everything Meilin did.

Meilin’s hand tightened around her camera. She smiled politely, careful not to show frustration. This was only day one, but already, the rules of her life were clear: shadows, glances, and the slow, unpredictable pull of hearts around her.

She didn’t yet know that her world was about to get even more complicated.

The camera clicked. And Meilin smiled.

The bell chimed through the campus, a gentle reminder that it was time to get to the club activities. Wang Meilin adjusted her camera strap nervously, fingers tightening around the worn leather. Today was her first photography club meeting—a small attempt to step out of the shadows and maybe, just maybe, prove that she wasn’t invisible.

She stepped into the room, a converted art studio with sunlight streaming through the tall windows. Cameras, tripods, and stacks of printed photographs lined the tables. A quiet hum of chatter floated in the air as students adjusted their equipment and set up projects.

“Ah! You must be the new transfer student,” said a gentle voice. Mr. Chen, the photography club advisor, looked up from a stack of papers. “Wang Meilin, right? I’ve heard you like taking candid shots.”

“Yes… that’s me,” Meilin said softly, bowing slightly. Her voice barely carried over the shuffle of students.

Mr. Chen gave her a warm smile. “Good. Don’t worry about being perfect here. We focus on expression and feeling, not just technique. Find your style, and let your perspective tell the story.”

Meilin’s heart fluttered. She nodded, trying to take in the room without drawing attention. For once, she felt a flicker of hope—this could be her little corner, a place where she wasn’t measured against someone else.

“Hey, there she is!” A cheerful voice called from across the room. Zhang Rui, a fellow club member, waved enthusiastically. “I knew you’d show up. Come, I’ll show you around before the meeting officially starts.”

As she walked over, Meilin’s gaze drifted across the room, landing on a familiar figure—Tang Haoran. He was already fiddling with his camera, headphones around his neck, a mischievous grin tugging at his lips as he glanced up and noticed her staring.

“New kid, huh?” he called, louder than he probably should have. “Hope you’re ready to be amazed.”

Meilin’s face turned crimson, and she hurried toward Zhang Rui, muttering something about just wanting to join quietly. But Haoran’s grin lingered in her vision, impossibly bright and teasing.

Zhang Rui chuckled softly. “Ignore him. He likes to act like he owns the place, but he’s harmless… mostly. Follow me, I’ll show you the basics.”

As they moved toward a corner of the room, Meilin noticed Feng Yichen setting up his camera quietly, his movements precise and calm. Unlike Haoran’s energetic chaos, Yichen’s presence was subtle but magnetic, drawing her attention even when he didn’t intend to. He glanced up, and for a fraction of a second, their eyes met. Meilin felt her heart skip, but she quickly looked away, focusing on the camera in her hands.

“Okay, first task,” Mr. Chen announced, clapping his hands. “We’re doing portrait photography today. Capture someone’s personality in a single frame. Pair up if you want, or work solo.”

Meilin’s stomach knotted. Pair up? She didn’t know anyone well enough yet, and being left alone felt intimidating. Before she could decide, a familiar, playful voice interrupted her thoughts.

“You’re working solo? That’s boring. How about you take a picture of me instead?” Haoran stepped closer, eyes sparkling with mischief. “I promise I’ll make it interesting.”

“I… I—” Meilin stammered, trying to decline politely.

“Don’t worry,” he said, flashing that grin. “It’ll be fun. Trust me.”

She hesitated, then nodded, lifting her camera cautiously. Haoran struck a pose, leaning casually against a table, playful but still effortlessly photogenic. As Meilin focused her lens, she felt a strange thrill. He was so different from anyone she’d ever photographed—bold, confident, and impossibly alive.

Click. Click. Click.

Each shutter made her pulse race a little faster. She noticed the subtle moments: the glint of mischief in his eyes, the way his fingers drummed on the table, the slight smirk that hinted at thoughts she couldn’t guess.

“Not bad,” Haoran said, reviewing the shots. “You’ve got an eye for detail. Surprising… and impressive for a quiet girl.”

Meilin felt herself blush, lowering the camera. “T-Thank you,” she murmured, unsure how to handle the attention.

Meanwhile, across the room, Yichen quietly observed. He had been setting up his own camera, but he noticed the subtle exchange between Haoran and Meilin. Something in his chest tightened—not jealousy exactly, but a protective instinct he hadn’t realized he possessed. His fingers lingered over his camera, then slowly, deliberately, he began taking some shots too—capturing Meilin in candid moments as she focused, unaware of the lens trained on her.

The club session passed in a blur of clicks, laughter, and soft chatter. Zhang Rui guided her through composition techniques, Sun Xiaotong helped adjust lighting, and Li Na occasionally leaned over with pointers, her voice friendly but firm. Meilin felt herself relaxing, immersed in the world of light and shadow, her camera acting as both shield and bridge.

By the end of the session, Mr. Chen gathered everyone for a quick review. “Excellent work today, everyone. Remember, photography isn’t just about the subject—it’s about capturing the story behind the eyes.”

As the students packed up, Haoran leaned closer to Meilin. “Hey, you did well today. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise” he added with a sly glance toward the doorway, where a flash of Wang Yuxi’s delicate, perfect figure could be seen.

Meilin’s stomach twisted. She had almost forgotten Yuxi existed during the class, but that single glance reminded her: shadows weren’t so easily escaped.

Yichen approached more quietly, camera slung over his shoulder. “Your framing was good,” he said softly, almost like an afterthought, but Meilin felt the weight behind it. There was no teasing, no flashiness—just a calm sincerity that made her heart ache in a completely different way.

“Thank you,” she whispered, glancing up at him briefly before lowering her gaze again.

As the sun dipped lower, casting long shadows across the campus, Meilin walked back toward her dorm. Her camera bag felt heavier, not with equipment, but with possibilities. Haoran’s teasing grin, Yichen’s quiet attention, and the ever-looming presence of Yuxi all swirled in her mind.

It was just the beginning, but already she felt caught in a slow, unpredictable pull—between two boys who had unknowingly claimed pieces of her heart, and a step-sister who would never let her shine without a fight.

She paused at the gates, lifting her camera to capture the sunset over the campus. A snapshot of light and shadow, of beginnings and uncertainties.

Click.

And Meilin smiled, knowing that no matter how complicated it got, she had her camera—and maybe, just maybe, a story worth capturing.

The lecture hall buzzed with the low hum of voices, the air thick with the restless energy of students waiting for the professor to begin. Wang Meilin slipped into a seat near the back, her notebook clutched tightly in her hands. She always preferred the shadows—quiet corners where she could observe without being observed.

The professor shuffled papers at the front. “Alright, class. Your mid-term assessment will be a group project. You’ll work in pairs or trios to create a multimedia presentation: photography, interviews, and research. It’s designed to test collaboration as much as creativity.”

A ripple of groans swept across the room. Meilin bit her lip. Group projects were her personal nightmare. She’d always been the invisible one, the one who did the work in silence while others took the credit—or worse, the one no one wanted in their group at all.

She began scribbling nervously in her notebook, praying she wouldn’t be left stranded.

“Groups will be assigned,” the professor continued, scanning his list. “No negotiations. This is about working with different personalities.”

Meilin’s heart sank. Fate had a cruel sense of humor.

“Wang Meilin… Feng Yichen… Tang Haoran.”

Her pen froze mid-stroke.

She looked up in disbelief. Surely she’d misheard. But no—the professor’s calm voice had confirmed it. Her group partners would be none other than the two most popular boys on campus.

From across the room, Haoran let out a low whistle. “Well, well, looks like we’re teammates, Camera Girl.” His grin was so wide Meilin thought her heart might stop.

Meanwhile, Yichen simply adjusted his glasses, offering the faintest nod in her direction. “I’ll handle scheduling,” he said coolly, already making notes.

Meilin wanted to melt into the floor.

---

They gathered at a corner table after class, the contrast between her two partners so sharp it made her head spin. Haoran sprawled across his chair, legs stretched out, tapping his pen against the desk in restless rhythms. Yichen, in contrast, sat perfectly upright, notebook open, handwriting precise and neat.

“So,” Yichen began, “the project requires us to capture different perspectives of student life. I suggest we divide the roles. Wang Meilin, you focus on photography. Tang Haoran, perhaps you handle interviews—you’re… personable.”

Haoran snorted. “Personable? You mean I talk too much.”

Yichen didn’t look up. “I meant you’re outgoing. It will be useful.”

“Uh-huh.” Haoran leaned forward, smirking. “And what about you, Mister Perfect?”

“I’ll handle the written analysis and final editing,” Yichen replied smoothly.

Meilin watched them volley words back and forth, her anxiety rising. She cleared her throat softly. “I-I can help with interviews too, if needed…”

Both boys turned to her at once.

“No,” Yichen said firmly. “Photography suits you. You capture details others overlook.”

“Yes,” Haoran added, grinning. “Besides, you look cute with a camera in your hands.”

Meilin nearly dropped her pen. Her cheeks burned, and she ducked her head to hide it.

---

Later that afternoon, they set out to brainstorm topics around campus. Meilin trailed a step behind as Haoran bounded ahead, pointing at students lounging under trees, couples sharing snacks, clubs practicing routines.

“See? Campus life is alive everywhere!” Haoran exclaimed, snapping random shots with his phone camera, most of them blurry. “This stuff writes itself.”

Yichen frowned. “Focus. We need structure. Meilin, do you have ideas?”

Meilin hesitated. Speaking up never came easy. But when both sets of eyes turned toward her, expectant, she forced herself to answer. “Maybe… instead of just events, we could capture everyday moments? Like… the way people laugh when they’re with friends. Or how the campus looks in the rain. Small details that show real life.”

There was a beat of silence.

Then Haoran grinned, teeth flashing. “See? Knew she had something special. Way better than my blurry selfies.”

Yichen’s gaze softened almost imperceptibly. “Good idea. It adds depth.”

Meilin’s pulse raced. For once, her words had mattered.

---

They stopped by the courtyard fountain to plan further, and that was when the shadow she dreaded most appeared. Wang Yuxi.

“Meilin! Oh, there you are.” Yuxi’s voice rang sweetly across the courtyard, drawing several heads. She floated toward them, books clutched delicately to her chest, her smile fragile and angelic.

Meilin’s stomach tightened.

“Oh, you’re with… Feng Yichen and Tang Haoran?” Yuxi blinked innocently, her gaze flicking between the boys. “What a coincidence. I was just looking for a group myself.”

Haoran chuckled. “Sorry, Princess, this group’s already locked in.”

Yuxi’s lips curved in a pout so perfect it could have been rehearsed. “Oh… how unlucky. Meilin always gets such wonderful opportunities.” She reached out, brushing imaginary dust off Meilin’s shoulder. “You’ll do great, sister. Just don’t mess it up.”

The words were soft, but sharp enough to cut.

Meilin froze, shame flooding her chest. She opened her mouth, but no words came.

Yichen’s gaze lingered on her, expression unreadable. Finally, he spoke. “We should continue planning.” His voice was even, but there was a firmness that left no room for Yuxi to linger.

Haoran, less subtle, rolled his eyes. “Yeah, we’ve got work to do. Run along, Drama Queen.”

Yuxi’s smile faltered for the briefest moment before she turned, floating away with her usual grace.

Meilin exhaled shakily, wishing she could vanish.

---

By the time they finished planning, the sun was dipping low, painting the sky in streaks of pink and orange. Meilin walked beside them silently, camera heavy against her hip. She felt caught between two worlds—Haoran’s reckless brightness, Yichen’s calm gravity—and the familiar darkness of her step-sister’s shadow.

“Don’t let her get to you,” Haoran said suddenly, nudging her shoulder lightly. “Your step-sis thrives on messing with people. Ignore her.”

Meilin blinked at him, startled. “I… I’ll try.”

Yichen adjusted his bag strap, his voice lower but steady. “You don’t have to prove yourself to her. Just focus on the work. You have talent.”

Meilin’s chest tightened. Both of them—so different, yet both reaching her in ways she wasn’t prepared for.

She lifted her camera almost instinctively, snapping a photo of the sunset reflected in the fountain. The boys paused, glancing at her curiously.

“Another moment captured?” Haoran asked, grinning.

“Yes,” Meilin murmured, lowering the camera. Her cheeks warmed, but this time she didn’t hide the smile tugging at her lips.

Somehow, she knew this project was going to change everything