Chapter 25: Su Wanqing

The staff at the milk tea shop by the intersection were chatting idly.

Lin Cheng and Li Xiaoran sat side by side on tall stools by the window.

“Have you signed up for any events for tomorrow’s sports day?” Lin Cheng asked casually, taking a sip of his boba milk tea.

Li Xiaoran’s eyes lit up and she nodded vigorously. “I signed up for the 3000-meter run. It starts at ten in the morning. Will you come watch me?”

“Three thousand meters?” Lin Cheng was a little surprised. “Not bad, Xiaoran. I didn’t expect you to have such good stamina. I’ll definitely come watch.”

“What about you? Did you sign up for anything?”

“No. My hand’s still hurt, so I didn’t sign up for anything.”

Lin Cheng waved dismissively.

Back in middle school, he’d gone to the best school in the county—only four classes, and hardly any trained sprinters. Winning first place in the 100 meters at the school sports meet had made him think he was actually pretty fast.

But once he entered high school, he realized he was just average—nowhere near the level of those who had trained or had real talent.

There was a faint trace of pity in Li Xiaoran’s eyes.

“That’s true… your hand still hasn’t healed, so you really can’t do intense exercise.”

But in her heart, a tiny wave of disappointment spread.

She had been imagining that when Lin Cheng crossed the finish line, exhausted, the first thing he would see was her waiting on the side, handing him a bottle of water.

They chatted idly about tomorrow’s sports day schedule, but for some reason, Lin Cheng couldn’t shake a feeling of unease. His gaze kept drifting toward the pitch-black street outside the window, or sweeping over the corners of the milk tea shop.

Something was missing.

Like when you leave home and forget something—there’s this hollow, unsettled feeling in your chest.

“What’s wrong?”

Li Xiaoran noticed his distraction, followed his gaze outside, and asked, “What are you looking at? Something on your mind?”

“Huh? No, nothing. Maybe I’m just tired. Let’s go—it’s getting late.” Lin Cheng came back to himself.

“Okay.” Li Xiaoran nodded obediently.

They walked out of the milk tea shop together.

At the fork in the road—

“I’ll head this way.” Li Xiaoran stopped.

“Mm. See you tomorrow. Be careful on the way.” Lin Cheng’s tone was as usual.

Li Xiaoran murmured a soft “Mm” and walked down the darker side street, her back carrying an indescribable hint of melancholy.

Lin Cheng waited until her figure disappeared around the corner before turning away.

At eleven o’clock, the street was quiet.

Only a few scattered shops were still open.

But—

It was too quiet.

Ever since Su Wanqing’s death a while back, Lin Cheng felt there was something wrong with his ears. Every time he walked this road alone, he would hear a faint mosquito-like buzzing near him.

Especially around his shoulders and neck, there was always a sense of discomfort.

But tonight, there was nothing.

And yet, that unsettled feeling grew stronger.

It was like going on a trip—knowing you locked the door, but still worrying whether the door or windows had been left open.

Lin Cheng stopped in his tracks, frowning, and began checking all his pockets.

Shirt pocket? Empty.

Left pants pocket? Empty.

Right pants pocket—wait!

He pressed down hard on the outside of the right pocket, then reached inside.

Nothing.

Damn! Keys!

He’d left them in his desk drawer!

“🌞!”

Finally, the source of his unease was clear—he really had forgotten something.

He took off running toward the school.

The school usually locked the gates at eleven, and the security guard would start patrolling soon after. If his timing was unlucky, he might be stuck waiting outside for ages.

…

When he reached the school gates, they were already shut. Only the security room’s light was still on; the guard hadn’t left yet.

Lin Cheng explained, showed his student pass, and was allowed inside.

The teaching building was pitch-black.

He went to the front door of his classroom.

Locked.

Circling to the back, he found it was only ajar, not locked.

He pushed it open gently.

Creak.

The sound of the old hinges was piercingly loud in the dead silence.

Moonlight streamed through the windows, casting dappled patches on the floor.

Lin Cheng quickly walked to his seat at the back by the window and pulled open the drawer.

The keys were indeed there.

He let out a breath and grabbed them, the clink of metal sharp in the stillness.

Just as he turned to leave, something flickered in the corner of his vision—

In the far back corner of the classroom—

Something moved?

Or… flickered?

So faint, so brief.

What the hell? A ghost?

A shiver ran up Lin Cheng’s spine.

He held his breath, squinting toward the dark corner.

The moonlight didn’t reach there—just a dense shadow.

Nothing.

The outlines of desks and chairs were clear; the corner was empty.

“Seeing things?”

He rubbed his eyes.

Still curious, he walked over.

Nothing.

He crouched and reached out his hand.

The air was icy cold.

“…”

At that moment, someone came to mind—

Su Wanqing.

That foolish girl had died seven days ago.

If she were still here, he’d still be figuring out how to protect her.

Even though she often didn’t listen, and didn’t understand the danger she was in—what fault did she really have?

A proud young lady from an old wealthy family… the kind of side character who dies in chapter one of a romance novel.

For the past two years, he had been finding ways to stay close to Su Wanqing—borderline stalking her, even crouching outside her villa at night, afraid she might die quietly without anyone knowing.

In her eyes, he must have been a creep.

And yet, she had never called the police or told anyone about it.

He had seen her squatting at a street corner, playing with a stray cat before gently grabbing it by the scruff to take it for sterilization.

When throwing out trash, if there were elderly people around, she would take out the cardboard boxes and bottles from her bag to save them the trouble.

“Su Wanqing, do you know? That day when you were hit by the car, my hand was broken, and I was lying on the ground. The first thing Zhou Mingyuan said when he got out was—‘The way your body flew looked amazing.’”

Lin Cheng’s eyes flickered.

“He had planned to kill you for a long time, but you never noticed.”

“I always wanted you to know he’s a murderer, but you were never interested in him, so you didn’t care. And I still couldn’t protect you in the end.”

“Now… I don’t know how far I can go, but I’m not going to let Zhou Mingyuan have it easy.”

Lin Cheng spoke softly—

As if the shadowed corner was Su Wanqing herself.

His fingers brushed the air again.

Cold.

The moonlight shifted, casting Lin Cheng’s silhouette across the darkness.