The bus rumbled, its wheels grinding against the wet autumn road. Students with backpacks chattered excitedly, some still clutching mooncakes from the Mid-Autumn Festival.
Lin Qing Yun stood at the terminal with Si Yao, helping her adjust the strap of her bag. "Make sure you eat well in the dorms," she reminded, her voice as soft as the breeze tugging at their hair. "Don't just drink coffee when you study late."
"I know, Jie." Si Yao smiled, bright and spirited as always. "And don't worry—I'll text you when I get there. Next time, you'll see me with a medal. I'll win the overseas one too."
Her eyes shone with so much confidence that it almost blinded Qing Yun. For a moment, Qing Yun imagined her sister standing in the spotlight, proud, untouchable, everything she herself had once dreamed to be.
The bus door hissed open. Si Yao waved cheerfully as she climbed up. "Goodbye, Jie!"
Qing Yun waved back, her smile as warm as always. But when the bus pulled away, and the last glimpse of her sister's bright figure disappeared through the tinted windows, her hand slowly fell. The smile slipped from her lips. What remained was an ache she couldn't name, a hollowness pressing against her chest.
Why does every farewell feel so heavy?
The next morning at Luminar, she wore her sunshine smile as usual. Carrying coffee orders in one hand, her notebook tucked under the other arm, she looked no different from the diligent assistant everyone admired.
But Gu Ze Yan noticed.
He always noticed.
From across the corridor, he saw the way her shoulders sagged for half a second when she thought no one was looking, how her eyes dimmed when her smile lingered too long.
When lunch came, instead of calling her to the cafeteria, he appeared beside her desk with a steaming container.
"What's this?" she blinked.
"Soup," he said simply, placing it down like a decree. "You didn't eat breakfast, did you?"
Qing Yun laughed lightly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "How do you even know that?"
Ze Yan looked at her, a little smug. "Because I watch you."
Her ears warmed at his bluntness. But she took the spoon anyway. The soup was still warm, and with each sip, a bit of strength returned to her. She glanced at him from the corner of her eye, wondering when this man had become so… domestic.
That week passed in fragments.
At the bookstore café, Qing Yun shelved books with her usual bright chatter. Yet sometimes, when customers weren't looking, she leaned her head on her arm, eyes drifting toward nothingness.
Ze Yan, who had taken to reading there in the evenings just to accompany her, saw those moments. He never said anything. He would simply close his book, walk over, and place a cup of her favorite fragrant tea on the counter.
She would smile, take it, and sip. The customers saw her radiant face; only he saw how tired her eyes were behind it.
One evening, after driving her home, he didn't leave immediately. Instead, he leaned against his car, waiting for her to unlock the gate.
"Sunny." His voice was softer than usual, almost hesitant.
She turned, puzzled. "What is it?"
"When you smile…" He paused, searching for the words. "Is it always real?"
Qing Yun froze for a second. Then she lifted her lips into that familiar arc, warm and effortless. "It's real, Ze Yan. Just… sometimes it hides the tired parts."
He stepped forward and pulled her into his arms. "Then let me see both," he murmured into her hair. "I want all of you, not just the sunshine."
Her body trembled, but she didn't push him away. Instead, she rested her cheek lightly against his chest, listening to his steady heartbeat. It was strong, grounding, something she could lean on—even if just for a moment.
That night, alone in her small apartment, Qing Yun sat on her bed, clutching her phone. A new message blinked on the screen from Si Yao, sent hours ago:
Jie, I'll win the next one for you.
Her vision blurred. She pressed the phone against her heart, whispering into the silence:
"Go get it, Yao Yao…"
Meanwhile, across the city, Ze Yan lay in his apartment staring at the ceiling. He remembered her faint smile, her soft voice, her hidden exhaustion.
His chest tightened with determination.
He won't let her carry everything alone.