Episode4

The corridor was wide and oddly silent, with sunlight pooling across the dusty tiles like spilled paint. Yunhao held the form tightly in both hands as he followed the teacher’s directions toward the admin office. The deeper he went into the school building, the more his heart began to calm. The classroom had been tense. His new deskmate had ignored him completely. Still, he told himself not to mind. He was used to being unnoticed.

But nothing could have prepared him for what he saw next.

Just as he reached the end of the corridor, turning toward the open door of the registration office, a familiar voice drifted through the air—a light laugh, casual and confident. And then—

He saw him.

Standing near the office window, talking to another teacher, was Zhao Yichen.

The sun hit him just right again, catching on the strands of his dark brown hair, casting a halo around his shoulders. He wasn’t wearing a uniform jacket—just a crisp white shirt, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, collar slightly undone. There was a calm ease in the way he leaned against the desk, chatting with that usual gentle smile.

He’s here?

Yunhao froze in place, his feet suddenly too heavy to move.

His chest tightened.

He’s a student here?

No… wait… He’s in a different year… He’s my senior?

The realization struck like a quiet clap of thunder inside him. The boy he had fallen for from afar, the boy who had stopped a basketball from hitting his face, the boy he had dreamt about last night—he was here. In this school. Standing barely a few feet away.

Zhao Yichen turned slightly, still mid-conversation, but his eyes never once landed on Yunhao. Not even a flicker of recognition.

To him, Yunhao was no one. Just another student passing by. Forgettable.

Yunhao lowered his gaze, pretending to study the form in his hands. His throat was dry. His heart had leapt the moment he saw Yichen, only to drop just as quickly.

The woman at the desk waved him in without looking up. “Transfer student? Come, sign here.”

Yunhao nodded and moved forward silently, careful not to brush too close to Yichen. He didn’t want to disturb the air around him. He didn’t want to look desperate.

He scribbled his name in the logbook and gave a polite nod before turning around. But he couldn’t help himself. He looked one more time.

Zhao Yichen was laughing again, now talking to a group of students who had gathered by the window. He had that same magnetism—the kind that made people lean in, eager for a glance, a word, a smile.

And Yunhao… was just part of the background.

Again.

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As he walked back to class, something heavy and warm sat in his chest. Not quite pain. Not quite joy. Something in between.

He didn’t know what he expected.

Maybe a smile.

Maybe even a simple “Hey, weren’t you at the court the other day?”

But there was nothing.

Yunhao returned to his seat, his deskmate still asleep, slouched against the window.

The classroom buzzed with light chatter, but for Yunhao, the silence inside him rang louder.

Zhao Yichen is my senior… and he still doesn’t know who I am.

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