During lunch break, Lin Mo decided to conduct an experiment.
He did not return directly to the classroom after eating but went to the library instead.
He picked a seat by the window, spread out his notebook, and set a timer on his phone for twenty minutes.
At 17 minutes and 43 seconds, Su Ran appeared.
She was holding a stack of books, walking through the area as if by chance. She stopped three bookshelves away from him and pulled out a copy of *A History of European Music* to flip through.
The entire process was natural and smooth; if Lin Mo hadn’t been waiting for her, he wouldn’t have noticed anything unusual at all.
The flaw in her performance was that the book was an original German edition, and Su Ran’s proficiency in German was limited to musical terms—something she had told him herself in his past life.
Lin Mo closed his notebook and walked over.
“Oh, what a coincidence?”
He stopped beside Su Ran, playing along with the “accidental” encounter.
Su Ran’s shoulders tensed almost imperceptibly. “…Yes.”
“You can read German?” Lin Mo pointed at the book.
“Um… I can understand a little bit,” Su Ran said softly.
“Impressive. As expected of our Study Representative.”
Lin Mo smiled and tilted his head, observing Su Ran’s lowered profile. “Lord Representative, could you help me out? I’m looking for material on Bach’s fugues, but I don’t know which category they’re in.”
Su Ran’s ears had already turned a deep red at some point.
She forced herself to remain calm as she closed the book and put it back on the shelf.
“Music Theory section, Row D, third shelf. There’s a Chinese translation.”
She turned to leave as soon as she finished speaking, but Lin Mo called out to her, “When do you usually come to the library?”
“I… it’s not at a fixed time…”
“Then if I come at this time in the future, will I run into you?”
Su Ran turned around. The morning light streamed in through the window behind her, dancing on her eyelashes.
She remained silent with a hint of confusion for so long that Lin Mo thought she wouldn’t answer.
“Tuesday and Thursday during lunch break… and Saturday from 3:00 PM to 5:00 PM.”
Su Ran looked at the tips of her shoes as she listed the times.
These were the times when the frequency of their “accidental encounters” in the library had been highest lately—meaning, these were the times he usually came.
Lin Mo didn’t expose her. He nodded with a smile. “Then I’ll come on Tuesdays and Thursdays.”
Su Ran wanted to say something, but in the end, she only gave a soft “Mm.”
‘Experiment conclusion — Su Ran knows my schedule by heart, and she adjusts her own itinerary to create these encounters. However, based on her hesitation just now, she doesn’t seem very good at lying. Or maybe… she doesn’t want to lie to me?’
On his way back to the classroom, Lin Mo passed the music building.
Thinking of what he had said that morning, he turned and walked inside.
The piano rooms were on the second floor. The corridor was quiet, with only a few music students practicing here and there.
He walked to the room at the very end—the one Su Ran had used most frequently in his past life. A reservation schedule was posted on the door: Senior Class 1, Su Ran: Monday to Friday, 5:00 PM to 7:00 PM.
It was only noon now, so the room was empty.
The room wasn’t large. A black grand piano took up half the space, and a small pot of ivy sat on the windowsill, growing healthily.
A book of *Chopin’s Etudes* was spread open on the music stand. The open page was covered in dense pencil notations, looking like some kind of religious scripture.
Lin Mo leaned in to look and found that the notes weren’t just about playing techniques, but also emotional cues.
For instance: *Sad but restrained here… like a racing heartbeat… missing him starting from here.*
In the margins of the sheet music, there were a few lines of very small handwriting:
‘I took his candy today and didn’t hide.’
‘I bought cartoon-patterned band-aids. Will he think they’re childish?’
‘Zhang Wei is standing so close to him, 32 centimeters. Too close. I hate it!’
The handwriting was light, as if she were afraid of being seen, or perhaps afraid of admitting it to herself.
Lin Mo’s fingers brushed over the words.
The paper was slightly cool, and the pencil marks left a faint graphite sensation on his fingertips.
He suddenly remembered a documentary he had seen in his previous life about a type of deep-sea fish.
They glowed in the pitch-black depths of the ocean, flickering at specific frequencies in hopes of receiving a response from their own kind. But most of the time, the light simply vanished into the endless darkness without any echo.
Su Ran seemed to be exactly like that.
She emitted a faint light in her own world, writing so many words and doing so many things, yet she never dared to actually ask, ‘Did you see me?’
In his past life, Lin Mo truly hadn’t seen her.
Or rather, he had seen the light but mistook it for a warning signal, fleeing into even deeper darkness out of fear.
The door to the piano room was suddenly pushed open.
Su Ran stood at the entrance holding a water cup. Her expression shifted from confusion to shock, and finally to an insurmountable panic.
The cup in her hand wobbled, spilling a few drops of water.
“You… how did you…” Su Ran’s voice was stuck in her throat.
“I was passing by and heard the piano.”
Lin Mo spoke without a change in expression. “It sounded beautiful, so I came in to take a look.”
“The piano?”
Su Ran scanned the piano room with utter innocence. Seeing no one else, she even stepped back into the hallway to look left and right.
Who?
Who was playing?
Wait?
Seeing her silly expression as if she were about to start a hunt, Lin Mo suppressed a smile and walked to the window, pretending to look at the ivy. “You’ve grown this well.”
Su Ran didn’t speak.
She walked in and placed her cup on the piano, then stood awkwardly in place like a prisoner on death row awaiting judgment.
Lin Mo turned around and looked at her. “Is this your private piano room?”
“……Yes.”
“Do you come here every day after school?”
“Pretty much.”
“Is it exhausting? I mean, balancing studies and piano practice.”
Su Ran blinked, seemingly not expecting Lin Mo to ask this, or rather, to care about her.
She didn’t know how to answer, so she could only say vaguely, “……It’s fine.”
“I heard that pianists need to practice six to eight hours a day.”
Lin Mo walked to the piano, his fingers lightly brushing the keys. “Your mother is very strict, isn’t she?”
Su Ran’s face turned a bit pale, and she nodded. “She wants me to become a professional pianist.”
“And you?”
Lin Mo looked up at her. “What major do you want to study?”
The piano room was so quiet that he could hear his own heartbeat.
Su Ran’s fingers curled into a fist, then relaxed.
She opened her mouth, but no sound came out.
Finally, she lowered her head and stared at the tips of her shoes.
Lin Mo waited in silence for a moment. When no answer came, he wasn’t in a hurry. Instead, he said, “If you’re tired, you can take a break. Music should be something that brings happiness, not an instrument of torture.”
He walked toward the door as he finished speaking. He stopped as he passed Su Ran and pulled the box of band-aids from his pocket.
“By the way, these. Thank you.”
Su Ran snapped her head up, her beautiful eyes once again filled with shock.
“Next time, just give them to me directly.”
Lin Mo pretended not to notice her panic and said in his gentlest tone, “You don’t have to sneak them into my bag. I won’t reject them.”
He walked out of the room and gently closed the door behind him.
The moment the door shut, he heard a very faint sound from inside—it sounded like a sob.
***
The last period of the afternoon was a class meeting.
The homeroom teacher announced that the school cultural festival was next month and every class needed to prepare a performance.
Zhang Wei, the arts representative, stood up and suggested a musical.
“I suggest we perform *The Phantom of the Opera*!” she said excitedly. “Su Ran is so good at the piano, she can provide the accompaniment. Lin Mo has good grades and memorizes lines quickly, so he can play the male lead…”
“I refuse,” Su Ran suddenly spoke up.
The whole class fell silent, and everyone looked at her.
This was likely the first time she had spoken in a public class setting this entire semester.
Zhang Wei’s smile froze. “Why? This is to bring honor to our class…”
“No time.”
Su Ran’s voice was cold, unlike the barely audible tone she used with Lin Mo. “And I won’t provide accompaniment.”
“Then surely you can do a solo performance? A recital?” Zhang Wei wouldn’t let it go. “You play so well. It would be such a waste not to show it off.”
Su Ran didn’t answer; she just lowered her head to flip through her book.
Lin Mo noticed her fingers trembling slightly as she turned the pages.
The homeroom teacher clapped his hands to smooth things over. “Alright, we’ll discuss the program later. Student Su Ran might indeed be busy; we must respect individual wishes.”
After the class meeting ended, Zhang Wei deliberately walked past Su Ran’s desk and spoke in a voice that was neither too loud nor too soft.
“Acting all high and mighty just because she can play the piano…”
Su Ran’s movements as she packed her bag paused, but she didn’t look up.
Lin Mo walked over and tapped on Zhang Wei’s desk.
“Is something wrong?” Zhang Wei raised an eyebrow.
Lin Mo spoke with a deep frown. “The piano accompaniment for *The Phantom of the Opera* is extremely difficult. It requires at least a professional Level 8 skill level and over four hours of practice every day.”
“Su Ran has to prepare for the national piano competition next year. That’s an opportunity for a guaranteed admission to a music conservatory. Which do you think is more important?”
Zhang Wei was momentarily stunned. “I… I didn’t know she had a competition.”
“Well, now you do.”
After saying that, Lin Mo walked toward Su Ran. She had already finished packing her bag and was preparing to leave.
“Shall we walk together?” he asked.
Su Ran looked at him with a complex expression and nodded gently.
As they walked out of the classroom, the sound of Zhang Wei stomping her foot in anger echoed behind them.
On the way home, the two walked side by side, leaving a distance of about two people between them.
When they reached the school gate, Su Ran suddenly spoke up. “How did you know I have a competition?”
“A guess.”
Lin Mo said in a gentle tone, “You have the piano room reserved until 7:00 PM. I figured it must be special training, right?”
Su Ran’s heart trembled slightly. She suddenly felt that the sunset clouds today had come very early and were very beautiful.
“Late October. The National Youth Piano Competition.”
“Good luck.”
Lin Mo said half-jokingly, “If you need an audience, I can go.”
“……It’s very boring.”
“No, it won’t be.”
Lin Mo immediately adopted a serious expression. “I’ve heard you play from outside the piano room. Although I only heard a few measures, to be honest, it was beautiful.”
Su Ran stopped in her tracks.
The setting sun stretched her shadow long, making it sway slightly on the ground.
“Why are you doing all this?”
Her voice was very weak and soft, so thin she could barely hear herself.
But Lin Mo heard her clearly because he had turned toward her and leaned in to listen.
“Do what?”
“Speaking up for me, giving me candy, and wanting to listen to me play.”
Su Ran looked up, her eyes appearing exceptionally clear in the twilight. “You weren’t like this before.”
Lin Mo also stopped walking.
He looked into Su Ran’s eyes and suddenly felt a strong urge to tell her the truth.
‘Because I died once.’
‘Because I saw you crying for me.’
‘Because I realized I missed out on ten years of time.’
But saying those things wouldn’t make sense and might even distress her.
“Because I realized I might have misunderstood a few things.”
“Misunderstood what?”
“Misunderstood what kind of person you are.”
Lin Mo shrugged, sounding relaxed as he tactfully got to the point. “I think you aren’t as strange as the other students say. You’re just not very good at expressing yourself.”
Su Ran stared at Lin Mo as if she were meeting him for the first time.
Then, she did something that surprised him.
She reached out and touched his wrist very lightly and quickly, pulling back in less than a second.
“Thank you,” Su Ran whispered, her face blushing.
Her voice was as soft as a sigh.
She turned and walked toward the bus stop, her pace faster than usual, her ponytail bouncing behind her.
Lin Mo stood in place, watching her silhouette disappear into the crowd.
A cool sensation still lingered where his wrist had been touched.
He looked down and noticed something small reflecting light on the ground again—another school badge.
He picked it up and looked; as expected, there were new words carved on the back:
‘Today: Thank you. Tomorrow: I want to see you.’
Lin Mo gripped the badge tightly and couldn’t help but smile.
As the bus pulled away from the station, he saw Su Ran inside, secretly peeking in his direction.
Their gazes met in midair.
This time, she didn’t look away.