The moment they stepped outside, Xinyi yanked her arm away, spinning around to face him. “How did you know that?”
Zhao Chen met her glare with an unreadable expression. “Know what?”
“My favorite subject,” she snapped. “Math. How did you know?”
Zhao Chen exhaled softly, tilting his head slightly as if considering whether to answer at all. “I just noticed.”
Xinyi’s eyes narrowed. “That’s not a normal thing to notice.”
He smirked slightly. “For most people, maybe.”
She crossed her arms, irritation bubbling up inside her. “What are you? Some kind of mind reader?”
He let out a quiet laugh. “No. Just observant.”
Xinyi frowned. “Why do you notice things like that?”
Zhao Chen slipped his hands into his pockets, his expression unreadable. “Why not?”
She scoffed. “Most people don’t.”
“Most people don’t pay attention,” he corrected. “But I do.”
Xinyi stared at him, unsure how to respond to that.
She wasn’t used to people noticing her—really noticing. In school, she blended into the background, barely speaking unless absolutely necessary. Her classmates either ignored her or whispered about her behind her back. And at home…
Her throat tightened.
After a moment, Zhao Chen sighed and glanced at the sky, where the sun was beginning to dip below the horizon. “Come on. Let’s go for a walk.”
Xinyi frowned. “Why?”
He shrugged. “You look like you need to cool your head.”
She hesitated, then let out a small breath and followed him.
They walked in silence, the quiet between them surprisingly comfortable. The streets were calmer at this hour, the golden hue of the setting sun casting long shadows over the pavement.
Eventually, they arrived at the same park where they had first met.
Zhao Chen made his way to a small ice cream stand, returning moments later with two cones. One vanilla and chocolate, the other just vanilla.
He handed her the vanilla-chocolate cone.
Xinyi took it without thinking, but as she started eating, she carefully avoided the chocolate side.
Zhao Chen watched her for a moment before, without a word, swapping their cones. “Here.”
She blinked, confused. “What?”
“You’re allergic, aren’t you?” he said simply.
Xinyi’s grip on the cone tightened. “…How did you know?”
Zhao Chen smirked slightly. “You didn’t touch the chocolate part.”
She looked away. “That doesn’t mean anything.”
He chuckled. “You’re not as unreadable as you think.”
Xinyi frowned, her chest tightening at his words. She wasn’t sure why, but the thought of someone actually paying attention to her—even to something as small as this—felt strange.
For a moment, they ate in silence, watching the sky turn shades of orange and pink.
Then Zhao Chen spoke again. “So,” he said casually, “you seem interested in Computer Science.”
Xinyi glanced at him. “How can you tell?”
“You didn’t get bored when I mentioned it,” he pointed out. “Most people do.”
She hesitated, then admitted, “I… I think I might like it.”
Zhao Chen smiled slightly. “It would suit you. You like logic, don’t you?”
Xinyi stared at her ice cream. “Maybe.”
He leaned back against the park bench, resting one arm along the back. “It’s more than just coding, you know. There’s cybersecurity—protecting systems from hackers, AI—training computers to think like humans, and data science—analyzing patterns to predict outcomes.”
Xinyi listened, quietly absorbing his words.
“It’s about problem-solving,” Zhao Chen added. “You might be good at it.”
For some reason, that thought warmed her.
The idea that she could be good at something.
That someone thought she could be good at something.
She took another slow bite of her ice cream, staring at the horizon.
As the sky darkened, she sighed. “I should go home.”
“I’ll walk you.”
She immediately shook her head. “No.”
Zhao Chen raised an eyebrow. “Why?”
She hesitated before muttering, “I just don’t want anyone to see.”
Something about her tone made him pause.
But instead of pushing, he simply nodded. “Alright.”
She turned and walked away, her steps quick and purposeful.
But what she didn’t know was that Zhao Chen didn’t leave.
He followed from a distance, his steps quiet and careful.
The more he thought about it, the stranger it felt.
Xinyi wasn’t a beggar. Her uniform, while slightly worn, was still well-maintained. Her books were old, but not falling apart. Her shoes were frayed at the edges, but not completely ruined.
Everything about her screamed “someone who takes care of what little they have.”
And yet…
Her family wasn’t poor. He could see that as he trailed her from a safe distance.
The house she entered wasn’t a crumbling apartment or a tiny rented room. It was a modest but decent home, in a neighborhood that was neither wealthy nor struggling.
So why did she look like someone who had to make do with scraps?
Why did she refuse to let anyone see where she lived?
Zhao Chen narrowed his eyes, his fingers curling slightly.
Something wasn’t right.
And for some reason, he found himself wanting to know why.