The winter sun in Liangcheng was pale and gentle, never sharp enough to bite. Even in December, the city's chill was not snow but dampness—seeping through shoes, brushing skin with clammy fingers. The school courtyard smelled faintly of camphor trees, their leaves still clinging stubbornly to branches.
Inside the girls' dormitory, Si Yao's desk was a fortress of books. Thick math Olympiad training guides stacked beside SAT prep, university application forms folded between problem sets. Pens stood upright in a chipped mug, and pinned on the wall above was a small sticky note in Qing Yun's handwriting: "Smile when you're tired. It makes problems easier."
Her roommates teased her often. "Si Yao, your desk looks like a bookstore exploded."
She smiled, not looking up from the equation she was solving. "Better books than boys, right?"
The room erupted in laughter. They never envied her genius; instead, they fussed over her like sisters, sometimes pushing snacks into her hands, sometimes dragging her out for bubble tea. Si Yao accepted it all with quiet warmth, the way she accepted the long hours of study.
---
Classroom
At seven a.m., she was already in the study hall, a cup of warm soy milk beside her. The light from the tall windows spilled over neat rows of desks. Students hunched over papers, some still rubbing sleep from their eyes.
"Morning, Si Yao."
It was him. The boy everyone liked to call the school's quiet star. He was tall, clean-cut, with that calm sharpness of someone who also excelled at everything. They were often paired in competitions, rivals on paper but companions in practice.
She looked up briefly, gave him a small nod. "Morning."
He set a packet of roasted chestnuts on her desk. "Fuel. Geniuses need sugar."
Her ears warmed. She muttered thanks and cracked one open, slipping the sweet nut into her mouth. He grinned slightly before settling at the desk beside hers, pulling out his own stack of notes.
Their pens moved in rhythm. Between them lay silence that wasn't awkward—just full of equations waiting to be conquered.
---
With Friends
During lunch, her roommates dragged her to the campus canteen. They insisted she couldn't live on chestnuts and instant noodles alone.
"Si Yao, you'll faint before you get to your overseas university at this rate," one girl scolded while piling braised chicken wings onto Si Yao's tray.
She laughed softly, obediently taking a bite. Around her, the chatter of teenagers filled the air—about drama episodes, about lipstick shades, about who liked who in Class 3.
"Don't you like someone, Si Yao?" a friend teased.
Her chopsticks froze.
The boy's face flashed in her mind: the way he leaned closer when explaining an English sentence, the way his handwriting was sharp yet steady, the way he bought her chestnuts without waiting for thanks.
But she only smiled faintly, pushing rice into her mouth. "My only love is math right now."
The table groaned at her non-answer, but they knew her well enough to let it pass.
---
Dorm Room Life
Evenings in the dorm were loud. Someone always blasting pop songs, someone practicing dance moves in front of the mirror, someone on the phone whispering to a boyfriend.
Si Yao's corner was quiet but not lonely. On her shelf sat a small plush rabbit Qing Yun had given her years ago, its ears slightly bent from too many hugs. Beside it, a collection of math medals gleamed dully in the weak light.
She opened her notebook and began writing in neat English: "I want to prove that Sunny's sacrifices were worth it."
Her pen paused. She glanced at the rabbit, smiled softly, and added another line in Chinese beneath: "One day, I'll protect her, the way she always protects me."
Her roommates peeked at her page and sighed dramatically. "Even her diary is equations and promises. How boring."
Si Yao only laughed, tucking the notebook away.
---
Little Moments
Some nights, the boy walked her back to the dorm after late study. The campus paths were lit by yellow lamps, their shadows stretching long.
"You worry too much about your English," he said once. "It's better than half the teachers'. Don't overthink."
She looked at him sideways. "Easy for you to say. You're good at everything."
His lips curved. "Not everything. For example…" He glanced at her, eyes briefly warm. "I can't solve you."
Her heart skipped. She turned her gaze forward quickly, pretending not to hear.
When she reached the dorm entrance, her roommates leaned out the window, squealing. "Si Yao, your boyfriend walks you home again!"
"Not my boyfriend," she muttered, cheeks pink. But when she went upstairs, she found herself smiling at her own reflection in the mirror.
---
Nighttime
On the balcony, she pulled out her phone. Qing Yun's contact was still saved under "Sunny ☀️."
"Jie," she whispered when the line connected.
"Si Yao!" her sister's voice was bright, warm. "How was today?"
Si Yao recounted the usual: practice tests, her teachers' praise, her friends' teasing. She didn't mention the chestnuts, or the boy's words. Those she kept in the pocket of her heart.
Qing Yun laughed. "Guess what? I learned to make red bean tangyuan. When you come home, I'll cook for you."
Si Yao hugged her phone, leaning against the cool railing. "Then I'll come back hungry."
Her roommates called from inside, "Lights out!"
She slipped the phone under her pillow, her chest still warm.
Before closing her eyes, she whispered softly:
"Sunny, I'll make you proud."