The so-called counselor’s meeting wasn’t exactly a formal or mandatory process. They were all in the same circle, and over the summer, Zhou Qin had already made arrangements with the college administrators. However, since Lin Xian was among the few day students, the counselor still needed to go through the motions before her official enrollment—to give her a polite little "reminder."

  In essence, the message was: even though she wouldn't be living on campus, she should actively participate in class activities, join clubs enthusiastically, and try her best to integrate into college life—university isn't high school anymore. She was also informed that there would be morning self-study sessions during the first semester that were mandatory, while evening study sessions were optional, provided her commute was safe. Lastly, the counselor mentioned that there were two or three other day students in her class and encouraged them to connect often so they wouldn’t feel isolated from the group.

  Not staying in the dorms clearly brought some hassle, but it wasn’t without its perks—like being exempt from early morning running drills and evening room inspections during military training. To Lin Xian, that was probably the best news she’d heard all day.

  She waited over twenty minutes for the counselor to return from a meeting, but the conversation itself barely lasted ten. Afterward, she followed her senior sister for another ten minutes to the Student Services Center to collect her military training uniform. All in all, the whole errand took over an hour.

  Lin Xian worried she had kept Xiao Wanqing waiting too long. As soon as she got the uniform, she thanked her senior and clutched it tightly in her arms, half-running back the way she came to look for Wanqing.

  As soon as she reached the area near the School of Finance, Lin Xian spotted Xiao Wanqing at a glance. Even though she was standing far off, her figure small in the distance, Lin Xian recognized her instantly.

  Wanqing stood beneath a kapok tree in a quieter corner beyond the bulletin board. Around her, the world was buzzing—students laughing, parents bustling—but she seemed oblivious, standing tall with her chin slightly lifted, as though she had built a quiet world apart from the noise.

  Lin Xian’s hurried steps slowed to a halt. Holding the uniform bundle, she furrowed her brow.

  From such a distance, she shouldn't have been able to see clearly, and yet—she sensed it. Wanqing looked… sad. Somehow, that realization made her own heart ache as well.

  After a moment, Lin Xian bit her lip, adjusted her expression, and strode forward with purpose.

  After Lin Xian left earlier, Wanqing had wandered around the dorm area for a bit. But the wait had grown too long, and the sun too fierce, so she eventually found shelter under the tall kapok tree, watching passersby—families walking by, arms full of bags, parents with concern etched into their brows, children with barely concealed impatience…

  Ten years had passed in a blur, and though the world had changed, the scenes before her felt hauntingly familiar, like a memory reborn.

  The soft smile on Wanqing’s lips slowly faded.

  When Lin Xian finally reached her, Wanqing was still lost in thought. She didn’t notice Lin Xian behind her until a gentle tap landed on her left shoulder. Startled, she turned around—but her face remained perfectly calm, betraying no surprise at all.

  Lin Xian blinked, then pouted. “Why didn’t I scare you? That’s no fun.”

  Wanqing gave a faint smile, ignoring her mischief. She asked gently, “All done? Heading home?”

  Lin Xian nodded. “Mm-hmm. It’s over. I don’t have to come in this afternoon either. I just need to show up for training tomorrow.” She hesitated for a second before blurting out, “What were you thinking about just now? You looked so spaced out. I stood behind you for a while and you didn’t even notice.”

  Wanqing’s smile faltered slightly, almost imperceptibly—but it passed quickly. She didn’t try to hide anything, her tone soft and honest: “I just saw some parents helping their kids move in, and it reminded me of the first time I came to register for university. My parents brought me.”

  Her voice was calm, but Lin Xian could clearly hear the nostalgia in it.

  “Our home was far from here, too, so I had to stay in the dorms. It was my first time living away from home, and I was excited beyond words. But my parents were a bundle of nerves, reminding me of every little detail all the way. I was so focused on my new freedom—I thought their nagging was so annoying. The moment they helped me make the bed, I rushed them to leave...” She gave a soft, self-mocking laugh, tinged with bitterness. “Silly, huh?”

  The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.

  Lin Xian felt a sudden pang in her chest. She remembered the funeral she had attended with Zhou Qin when she was eleven—how Wanqing had knelt beside her parents’ coffins, trembling and weeping uncontrollably.

  At twenty-five, once the cherished daughter of a loving family, Xiao Wanqing had become a true orphan overnight. The loss of her parents was the deepest scar in her life, one that would never fully heal.

  Lin Xian opened her mouth a few times, wanting to say something comforting, but no words came. In the end, she simply looked up at Wanqing and said quietly, “I won’t ever send you away.”

  Wanqing’s eyes lit up with warmth, her lips curling into a soft smile that melted away all traces of sadness. She reached out, took most of Lin Xian’s uniform bundle from her arms, and teased, “Of course you won’t—you still need my ride home. Let’s go.” With that, she turned toward the parking lot.

  Lin Xian trailed behind her, momentarily furrowing her brow, but then relaxed and smiled again.

  On the drive back, Wanqing took a work call. Her voice was upbeat, full of charm and wit.

  Lin Xian glanced sideways at her. Though Wanqing’s lips were curved in a smile, there was no warmth in her eyes—only calm detachment and the faintest hint of melancholy.

  Lin Xian turned her gaze back out the window, watching the scenery blur past, but her mind was full of Wanqing’s smiling words and serene expression.

  Was Xiao Wanqing the very embodiment of that? In her dazed thoughts, she pondered—is this what it means to have hidden undercurrents beneath a still surface?

  Was Xiao Wanqing such a mystery?

  She didn’t quite understand it.

  But she knew—she wanted to be the one who could see the ripples beneath.

  That night, past midnight, Xiao Wanqing got up to drink some water. As she passed by Lin Xian’s room, she paused briefly—and, just like the previous night, she heard the soft clack-clack of a keyboard.

  Xiao Wanqing’s expression remained unreadable. She took a slow sip from her glass and returned silently to her room.

  The next morning at 6:30, before Xiao Wanqing could take off her apron and wake Lin Xian, Lin Xian was already up. She’d washed up, tied her hair into a ponytail, dressed in her training uniform, and was now sitting at the table with her cap in hand.

  Xiao Wanqing had just finished setting the breakfast table and was about to wake her when she turned around and saw Lin Xian already there, beaming.

  “Good morning, Auntie Xiao!” Lin Xian said cheerfully.

  Xiao Wanqing looked her over—brimming with youthful energy, confident and sharp—and couldn’t help but be stunned for a moment. “Good morning,” she replied with a smile. Then, tilting her head, she added teasingly, “You look sharp. Very dashing.”

  Lin Xian lit up instantly, spinning in place like a proud peacock. “I think so too! I checked myself out in the mirror like five times—I almost didn’t want to leave!”

  Xiao Wanqing chuckled and handed her the chopsticks. “Alright, narcissist,” she teased, then changed the subject with a caring tone. “Did you put on sunscreen?”

  Lin Xian shook her head. “Nah, I’m not used to it. Too much hassle. I went through my last military training without it—no big deal.”

  Xiao Wanqing sighed and frowned lightly. “You little slacker…”

  Lin Xian grinned, sipping her porridge like a smug kitten.

  During breakfast, Lin Xian noticed Xiao Wanqing seemed tired—she’d yawned several times. She put down her chopsticks, guilt flashing in her eyes. “Auntie Xiao, you don’t look well… Did I make you get up too early?”

  Xiao Wanqing shook her head gently. “No, I usually get up around this time anyway.” Then, frowning slightly, she explained, “I just haven’t been sleeping well these past two nights. I kept hearing keyboard clicks and furniture noises. Maybe the boy next door stays up late playing games…”

  Lin Xian froze, her expression flickering. Could it… have been her?

  Xiao Wanqing was watching her closely and caught the telltale change in expression. She knew Lin Xian understood. So she added, seemingly offhand, “Well, maybe tonight will be quieter. Hopefully, I’ll sleep better.”

  Lin Xian nodded sheepishly, too embarrassed to reply. She thought: It’s been two days—surely I’ve gotten used to the bed by now? Even if I can’t sleep tonight, I must stay in bed quietly.

  Xiao Wanqing sighed silently in her heart, looking at Lin Xian's lowered head with affection and a touch of pity, quietly letting out a breath of relief. A hint is enough for the intelligent; she believed Lin Xian wouldn't disappoint her.

  After breakfast, Lin Xian brought her dishes to the sink and turned on the tap to wash them. But Xiao Wanqing stopped her: “Didn’t we agree? The kitchen’s my job, remember? It’s getting late—go get ready for school.”

  Lin Xian had no choice but to wash her hands and turn to leave. As she turned around, she found Xiao Wanqing standing close, casually reaching out to smooth the collar of her uniform.

  Xiao Wanqing's warm and gentle voice sounded close by: "Remember to check that your clothes are all neat and tidy before you leave, or you'll feel embarrassed if someone notices when you're out.

  Lin Xian’s ears turned red.

  Xiao Wanqing lowered her head and carefully adjusted Lin Xian’s belt, smoothing the hem of her uniform. Lin Xian watched her long lashes flutter, her eyes full of quiet focus, and caught a faint whiff of her gentle scent. Her heart skipped a beat. She was sure—sure—her heartbeat was way too loud.

  Finally, the moment passed. Xiao Wanqing stepped back to admire her handiwork and smiled. “All done. Now our beautiful, handsome Xianxian can go out and charm the whole world.”

  Lin Xian laughed and teased, “Did I charm you?”

  Xiao Wanqing smiled faintly, neither confirming nor denying. Then, as if remembering something, she called out, “Wait a second.” She walked to the table, picked up her phone, and stood a short distance away. “Xianxian, smile.”

  Lin Xian looked over at her—so focused, so gentle—and smiled instinctively, her eyes twinkling like stars.

  Xiao Wanqing, she thought sincerely, you’re the one who could charm the whole world.