“What happened in here? The desks are smashed to pieces.” The door opened and in stepped Yan Lin with his bespectacled senior.
The lights flooded the room. My heart dropped.
The position Gu Yuan and I were in looked horribly compromising. I scrambled to push him away and tug at the slipping strap on my shoulder.
He didn’t flinch. Instead he pinned my hands behind my back with one motion, his other arm curling around my waist to force my chest out. His lips were pressed to the wound at my collarbone—his touch was a healing technique, but to anyone who didn’t know that, it was nothing short of scandalous.
Heat burned my face. I buried my head into his shoulder.
“You should have set a ward,” I muttered.
In my head I kept repeating: don’t see me, don’t see me, don’t see me…
Yan Lin swept his gaze around the classroom and told the glasses-clad senior, “We’ll go. She’s not here.”
I dared to peek over Gu Yuan’s shoulder and let out a trembling sigh when he sounded certain. Relief washed through me; my whispered wish had been answered.
Gu Yuan lazily lifted his face from under my collarbone when he saw my expression. I hurriedly righted my strap and shoved him aside. Even if the others couldn’t see us, I was mortified.
Just as Yan Lin turned to leave, the bespectacled senior lunged forward and pinned Yan Lin against the wall—wall-pin straight out of a drama. My mouth fell open; my first reaction was fear for my friend. Then Yan Lin’s cheeks flushed, and to my horror they kissed.
I stared. My throat went dry. This is really something to watch, I thought, though I knew I shouldn’t be looking.
“Don’t do that—there’s surveillance,” Yan Lin hissed, tugging at the restless hand.
The other lifted a finger and the classroom lights went out.
Of all the hypocrisies—this kid, who’d kept everything so secret he hadn’t even told me, was now well and truly wrapped up with someone. And apparently, he’d already forgotten to find me.
At the lewd sounds Yan Lin made, Gu Yuan’s face curled with disgust. One dismissive wave of his arm and the two of them vanished as if swallowed by the darkness.
“Where did they go?” I blurted.
“Anywhere but in front of me.” Gu Yuan’s tone was flat, tinged with annoyance. “This classroom isn’t his domain; he can’t do whatever he likes.”
“Do as the magistrate pleases, and the common folk mustn’t even light a lamp,” I muttered, and he cracked a small, mocking smile. “Who wants to set a fire? You?”
I shook my head. “No—no, I don’t want… it’s too much.”
“Not now.” He was already composed again. “You’ve been hurt, and we have a visitor.”
A gray fog rolled along the corridor outside, a figure blurring inside it as it drifted toward our door. Gu Yuan’s hand lifted and, with it, another cacophony of desks and chairs crashing echoed through the room.
“Lan Lan, scream. Louder the better.” He leaned close, his voice low in my ear. “My actions may look violent. Don’t be afraid. I’ll make whoever’s outside feel like your life is in danger.”
He laid out the plan in a few clipped sentences before the stranger arrived. He would play the cruel betrayer so the outsider would intervene and take me away. He’d put a tether on me—wherever I ran, he would follow. He wanted to see who’d come and what the true intent was.
I swallowed and then made myself scream—a desperate, raw plea that filled the empty classroom. Chairs scraped and tumbled as Gu Yuan punctuated every line with noisy gestures, the room becoming theater for his controlled fury.
“Gu Yuan, please—ah…” I cried out between sobs.
“If Dan Zhu hadn’t exposed you, how long were you going to hide this?” Gu Yuan snarled. His voice snapped and each word was punctuated by more tumbling furniture. “Some betrayals cannot be forgiven—one wrong and there’s no turning back. Today you’ll learn what happens to those who betray me.”
The door crashed open, a storm of desks and stools flying outward. I crouched down, arms over my head, crying. Just as a bench was about to crush me, strong hands yanked me back and dragged me clear.
Cold fog stung my face. I tried to see who’d saved me, but the mist obscured every detail. The rescuer set me down somewhere safe and then let go.
“Who are you?” I asked.
The mist thinned to reveal a pale figure—Bai Qi.
I couldn’t believe it. Could Bai Qi be the one behind Manyue?
“You’re not hurt, Lan Lan?” Bai Qi was at my side in an instant, checking me like a brother.
“What do you mean—have you been following me?” I demanded.
“No—I came because the spirit-butterfly warned me you were in danger.” He pointed at the tiny winged light clinging to my shoulder. The little creature fluttered up and hovered over my head like a halo.
“Did you see the attacker’s face?” I pressed.
“No. I only saved you.” He looked guilty and a little awkward.
I stamped my foot. “Bai Qi, you’ve made a mess.”
He cocked his head, genuinely puzzled. “What mess?”
A silver flash and Gu Yuan was at my side. “Let him go,” I sighed.
Gu Yuan said nothing to Bai Qi; he simply looked at him with that contained intensity: “You came at an interesting time.”
“I came to check on Lan Lan,” Bai Qi said instead, his gaze sharp and unreadable as it rested on Gu Yuan. “I heard she wasn’t well.”
“Bai Qi, you have it all wrong—Gu Yuan was—” I started.
“Lan Lan, let’s go home.” Gu Yuan cut me off, taking my hand and striding past Bai Qi without another word.
Their shoulders brushed. Bai Qi instinctively stepped aside so he wouldn’t be knocked, then stayed rooted where he was. I tugged at his sleeve and mouthed two words: Go home.
Bai Qi’s brow twitched. He hesitated, then something in his expression changed; he stayed behind on the pathway, watching us walk away.
Gu Yuan pulled me along at a steady pace. He seemed lost in thought, so much so that he didn’t bother to carry me home the way he normally would. Snow drifted down silently, gathering soft and white on our heads and shoulders.
We walked in silence, the only sound the crunch of snow beneath our feet. After a stretch I couldn’t stand his distant mood any longer. I reached up and tugged his sleeve, my voice soft and pleading, “What’s wrong?”
He stopped finally and wrapped me to him so tightly I could barely breathe. For a moment the whole world narrowed to that fierce, protective hold.
When he let me go he cupped my shoulders like someone setting something precious down with care. His eyes were earnest and more vulnerable than I’d ever seen them.
“If I fell out with Bai Qi,” he asked, voice small and trembling, “what would you do?”
His question landed on me like a hailstone. You and Bai Qi?—the suddenness of it left me stunned.