Chapter 15: The Morning Bowknot

Sunday morning, a knock sounded at the door.

I snapped my eyes open in bed.

8:20.

The knocking was neither hurried nor slow—three knocks followed by a pause, very rhythmic.

Xiao Yan.

I scrambled out of bed in a panic, nearly tripping as I shoved my feet into my slippers.

The house is a mess!

Back when I was still a boy, Xiao Yan had come over once or twice.

But she had only ever stood at the doorway and never came inside; she would just drop off documents and leave.

A chair leg struck the corner of the desk with a loud clatter, causing my backpack and some nearby homework folders to slide off.

A ballpoint pen rolled away under the bed.

“Coming! I’m coming!”

When I pulled the door open, a stray tuft of my hair was sticking up, and the collar of my pajamas was askew.

I probably looked like a kitten that had just been plucked out of its nest.

Xiao Yan stood at the door.

She wore a white hoodie, jeans, and a high ponytail.

Holding a small pink cloth bag embroidered with the Big Dipper, she looked at me with a beaming smile.

That was the little gift I had personally rewarded her with when she first joined the Astronomy Club.

“Morning, President.”

“…Morning.”

“I told you I was going to do your hair, remember?”

She shook the cloth bag, the copper ornaments on her hair ties jingling.

“President can’t go back on her word ~”

Before I could react, she had already turned and squeezed inside.

Her shoulder brushed lightly against my arm with a sense of natural closeness.

Mimi was perched at the foot of the bed, tilting its head warily.

Xiao Yan leaned over and skillfully stroked its head.

“So you’re Mimi? President mentions you all the time.”

Mimi, having no spine at all, rubbed its head against her hand.

Xiao Yan turned to look at me.

After scanning me from head to toe, she couldn’t help but laugh.

“President, your hair is such a mess.”

She placed the cloth bag on the desk and pulled out a comb and some hairpins.

Her movements were natural, as if she were in her own home.

“Sit here.”

She patted the chair.

Her tone left no room for refusal as she grabbed my wrist and pulled me down into the seat.

I sat with my back to her.

The comb slid slowly down from the top of my head, the tips of the teeth lightly grazing my scalp.

I froze instantly.

“Don’t be so tense, President,” her voice drifted from behind me with a hint of a laugh.

She leaned forward slightly, her warm breath brushing against my ear.

“Just relax.”

‘Relax? How can I relax? Having a girl touch my hair… it feels too good!’

Her fingers threaded through my hair, gently untangling the knotted parts.

It felt warm, without any hint of pain.

When the comb touched my scalp, a tingle crawled up my spine, making me instinctively shrink my neck.

“Don’t move.”

She chuckled, her free hand reaching out to steady my shoulder.

“But it tickles…”

“Just endure it for a bit ~”

Her voice was soft, carrying a slight, coquettish whine.

I bit my lip and endured it, my fingers gripping the hem of my clothes over my knees.

After combing for a while, she stopped and suddenly laughed.

“President’s hair is so soft.”

Her fingertips gently twirled the ends of my hair, while her other hand reached over to pinch my cheek.

“It feels just like Mimi’s fur. I really like touching it.”

I swatted her hand away, but my ears began to burn.

“Really.”

Her fingers slid from the top of my head to the ends of my hair.

Her fingertips accidentally brushed against my earlobe, giving it a light squeeze.

I stared into the vanity mirror in front of me.

She was looking down while combing my hair, her bangs hanging down to cover half her face, a smile playing on her lips.

Sunlight streamed through the window, plating her profile in a warm glow.

When her fingers touched the back of my neck, my entire body stiffened.

There was an injury there.

It was the scar from the time I was hit by a counterweight rod long ago.

It had healed ages ago, but it still left a faint mark.

Her movements paused.

It was a very brief pause—so brief that if I hadn’t been focused entirely on the sensation of her fingers, I wouldn’t have noticed at all.

Then, her touch grew lighter.

As if afraid of hurting me, the comb avoided that spot and slid down slowly from the side.

Her fingertips lightly brushed over the scar like a feather.

It was so fast that one might have thought it was an illusion.

She didn’t say a word.

My heart suddenly began to race.

She divided my hair into three strands and began to braid it.

“Does President know how to braid hair?” she asked.

Her fingertips danced skillfully between the strands as she leaned in closer, her chin resting lightly on my shoulder.

“Um, no…”

“Then I’ll teach you.”

Her fingers wove through the hair.

Her movements were slow as she explained while braiding.

“First, divide it into three like this. The left goes over the middle, the right goes over the middle, and then you repeat.”

I stared at her in the mirror, not absorbing a single word.

My mind was filled with only one thing.

‘She’s so close. So soft. So warm.’

“Silly President… did you get that?”

She looked up at me through the mirror and flicked my forehead.

“…Probably.”

“Liar.” She laughed.

“President wasn’t listening at all.”

I kept my mouth shut.

Soon, a loose fishbone braid was finished.

She pulled a small object from her pocket.

It was a silver star hairpin, which she clipped to the end of the braid.

“Done.”

She took a step back, tilted her head to look, and then suddenly cupped my face with both hands.

She gently turned me to face the mirror.

“Now it won’t get messy. It looks wonderful.”

I stared at myself in the mirror.

My hair had been woven into a loose fishbone braid draped over my shoulder.

The star hairpin glinted in the sunlight.

I recognized that hairpin.

It was old merchandise from the Astronomy Club.

It had been handed out during recruitment a year ago and had long since gone out of print.

“This hairpin — “

“Hmm?”

She looked down to pack away the comb.

“It’s from the Astronomy Club, isn’t it?”

“That’s right.”

She looked up, smiled, and walked over to take my hand. She interlocked her fingers with mine.

“President gave it to me, after all. I’ve kept it all this time.”

I opened my mouth, but I didn’t know what to say.

‘She kept it all this time.’

She looked up at me in the mirror, her eyes sparkling.

“President looks really beautiful today.”

“…Stop it.”

“Really.”

She put the comb back into the cloth bag and stood beside me, her arm over my shoulder, our shoulders touching.

“With your hair tied up, your whole face is visible. Your eyes are so bright.”

I lowered my head, not daring to look at the mirror.

“By the way, President,” she said suddenly, her voice dropping lower.

“Do you still like looking at Orion?”

I froze.

“You used to say that Orion’s belt is the ‘compass of the starry sky’ and that it can help lost people find their way.”

She looked out the window, her voice very soft. Her finger lightly tickled the palm of my hand.

“I thought President was so romantic back then. You even had stories for the stars.”

She remembered.

She even remembered a trivial thing like that.

“Xiao Yan, how do you remember so much?”

I asked, my voice a bit raspy.

She didn’t answer.

She pulled out her phone, scrolled for a moment, and held it out in front of me.

A photo.

It was the Venus Conjunction with Moon.

There was a very bright star next to the moon.

In the corner of the photo, you could see the shadow of the rooftop railing and a blurry figure from behind—it was me.

“That night,” she said softly, her thumb lightly stroking the back of my hand, “I saw you on the rooftop.”

I stared at the photo, and my fingers began to grow cold.

“You stood there for a long time,” she said.

“It was like you were talking to the stars.”

The comb in her hand fell to the floor with a “clack.”

She leaned over to pick it up, wiped it with the hem of her shirt, and handed it to me.

Her tone was very light.

“President, be careful.”

It was as if nothing had happened.

—

When we went downstairs to buy breakfast, we ran into a girl from my class just outside the dormitory.

“Wow!” Her eyes lit up.

“Xiao Yan, you’re so good at doing hair! You two look so good together!”

Even she could guess that Xiao Yan had braided my hair.

I lowered my head in embarrassment, wanting to hide behind Xiao Yan.

But Xiao Yan naturally gripped my hand tighter, looking quite proud of herself.

“Of course. This is my President, after all ~”

Her palm was warm and smelled like orange soda.

I stood there frozen, my mind a complete blank.

‘Being held by a girl… it doesn’t seem so bad?’

“President is blushing,” she whispered, leaning in close.

“I am not!”

“You are.”

She laughed, tightening her grip slightly as she led me forward.

Her other hand reached over to tuck a stray strand of hair that the wind had blown messy behind my ear.

“Even your ears are completely red.”

I bit my lip and didn’t dare speak again.

The breakfast shop owner saw us and smiled as she handed over two meat buns.

“You girls look lovely today, both of you.”

I took the buns, my face flushed.

Xiao Yan secretly pinched my palm.

While I was biting into a bun, she reached over to wipe a bit of juice from the corner of my mouth, her eyes curving into crescent moons.

“…Mm.”

I shrank back, my heart beating so fast I couldn’t control it.

After finishing breakfast, the two of us headed to the Observatory to tidy up the equipment.

Xiao Yan crouched on the floor, organizing old star maps.

I stood by the side, watching her back, my mind a jumbled mess.

Her testing me, the hairpin she had hidden for a year, the photo of the Venus Conjunction with Moon, the scar on the back of my neck she had carefully avoided…

She knew everything.

But the more she stayed silent, the more panicked I felt.

“President,” she said, standing up and patting the dust off her hands.

“Could you help me open the storage locker?”

I walked over and pulled the locker door open.

Inside were several items: a yellowed Astronomy Competition certificate with my name on it; a navy blue lens cleaning cloth with frayed edges; a star badge engraved with a horizontal line; and a broken fisheye lens.

I was stunned.

The certificate was mine.

The cleaning cloth was one I had used until it was old.

The star badge was the one I had lost.

And that lens—it was exactly the same mount as my camera.

She had kept all of these things perfectly preserved.

“Xiao Yan…”

I started, my voice raspy.

She picked up the star badge, her fingertips lightly stroking the horizontal line on the back.

She lowered her head, the sunlight casting small shadows with her eyelashes.

Her voice was as soft as cotton candy.

“No matter what President becomes, you will always be my favorite President.”

My heart felt like it was going to explode.

The questions I wanted to ask were stuck in my throat; I couldn’t say a single word.

She pressed the badge back into my hand.

Her fingertips brushed the back of my hand before she took hold of it, interlocking our fingers.

I gripped the cold badge, watching the ginkgo leaves drift past the window.

A thought suddenly occurred to me: Bai Lu.

Only Bai Lu knew the truth about the transformation.

Only by finding her could I figure out what was really going on.

I looked up.

“Xiao Yan, I have something to do. I need to go find Bai Lu.”

Her smile faltered.

It was a very brief flicker—so brief that if I hadn’t been staring at her, I wouldn’t have noticed.

“Finding Bai Lu?”

Her voice was a bit tight, and her fingers unconsciously tightened around mine.

“Right now?”

“Yes. Right now.”

I turned to walk away.

She held onto my hand, being pulled along for two steps before she let go, her fingertips grazing the back of my hand.

When I reached the door, her voice followed me from behind.

“President.”

I stopped and turned to look at her.

She stood by the storage locker, silhouetted against the light so I couldn’t see her expression.

She was gripping the hem of her shirt so tightly that her knuckles were white.

“Senior Bai Lu… she might not give you the full answer.”

I looked at her.

“But if you want to find it, I hope you do.”

Her voice softened, and she waved at me, forcing a smile.

“No matter what that answer is.”

Outside the window, a ginkgo leaf drifted down, swirling in the wind.

I gripped the star badge tightly and nodded.

As I turned to go downstairs, my phone vibrated in my pocket.

I pulled it out to see a message from Xiao Yan.

Didn’t we just part ways?

“President, I sent Senior Bai Lu’s address to your phone.”

A location pin followed.

Then another message:

“She might not see you at this address. But if she asks who sent you…”

The “typing” indicator appeared for a long time. It would show, stop, then show again, over and over.

Finally, the message that came through was only one sentence:

“Just say it’s the person who watched the stars on the night of the Venus Conjunction with Moon.”

I stood in the stairwell, staring at those words.

Venus Conjunction with Moon.

The person who watched the stars.

She didn’t say “Astronomy President,” and she didn’t say “Senior.”

She meant: the me from before that night.

I gripped my phone, my heart racing uncontrollably.

How much did she really know? And would Bai Lu give me the answers?