Chapter 12: What the Meteor Shower Soaked (3)

It was quiet for a while.

The wind blew from the other side of the mountain, brushing Bai Lu’s stray hairs across her face.

She reached out and tucked them behind her ear with a very slow motion, her fingers pausing there for a moment.

“Han Han, let me ask you something.”

Her tone was very light, as if she were talking about something unimportant.

However, I noticed her body turn slightly toward me.

She was facing me now, instead of looking at the sky as she had been a moment ago.

“Yeah?”

I responded, my fingers unconsciously tracing the edge of my scarf.

It was Xiao Yan’s scarf, soft and carrying a faint scent of lavender.

“Lately… have you noticed anything different about yourself?”

I froze, my fingers stopping on the fabric.

“Different how?”

Bai Lu tilted her head, seemingly weighing her words.

Her fingers tapped twice against the outside of her pocket.

That was a small habit of hers when she was thinking.

I had seen it a few times during club activities; every time she was about to say something important, she would tap like that twice.

“It’s just… hearing Li Li talk about you, something always feels a bit off.”

Despite the cold, my palms began to sweat.

I pulled my hands into my sleeves and clenched them into fists.

“What feels off?”

Bai Lu looked at me with a very gentle gaze.

It wasn’t a polite kind of gentleness, nor was it the typical kindness a Senior shows a Junior.

It was the kind of look one gives someone who needs to be understood.

Her eyes were bright under the moonlight.

The pupils behind her round, gold-rimmed glasses were deep brown, and right now, they were quietly watching me.

There was no scrutiny, no probing—just a steady gaze.

“I can’t quite put my finger on it.”

She tilted her head slightly, a small smile playing on her lips.

But it wasn’t her usual curved grin; it was a serious, contemplative smile.

“I just get the feeling that you don’t seem like someone who has been a girl since childhood.”

My heart rate quickened.

I could hear my own pulse thumping in my ears like someone beating a drum.

The wind seemed to die down, and the surroundings became so quiet that I could hear Song Tao’s snoring coming from the distant tent.

But looking into Bai Lu’s eyes, for some reason, I wasn’t that afraid.

Her gaze was peaceful, like the night sky—deep and tranquil.

There was no interrogation, no prying curiosity.

There was only…

Acceptance.

Silence stretched between us for a moment.

The wind picked up again, blowing a corner of the scarf against my face.

I reached out to press it down.

When my fingers brushed the fabric, I suddenly remembered how Xiao Yan looked when she helped me put it on.

She had lowered her head, her eyelashes casting shadows as her fingers wrapped the scarf around my neck, loop after loop.

“Senior.”

My voice was a bit hoarse, as if it had been dried out by the wind.

“If I said… I really used to be a boy, would you believe me?”

Bai Lu wasn’t surprised.

She simply nodded.

“I’d believe you.”

She spoke those three words with an incredibly flat tone.

But it was that very lack of drama that made my nose suddenly sting.

“Why?”

I asked, my voice even raspier than before.

She thought for a moment, her fingers coming to a stop against her pocket.

“Because when you answered just now, you didn’t deny it.”

She looked at me, the corners of her mouth curving slightly.

“If you were truly born a girl, you probably would have found that question completely bizarre.”

I blinked, realizing she was right after the fact.

“I guess so.”

“And,” Bai Lu paused, turning fully to face me with her hands thrust into her coat pockets.

This movement caused her collar to flare open slightly, revealing the white turtleneck sweater she wore underneath.

The moonlight fell upon her face, softening her features.

“And Li Li told me a lot about you.”

“Li Li?”

I blinked.

“Mm-hmm.”

Bai Lu nodded, a hint of a smile in her eyes.

“As you know, we’ve known each other for a long time. She loves astronomy and knew I used to be in the Astronomy Club, so after she joined, she often told me about what was happening in your group.”

She paused there and tilted her head to look at me, her eyes crinkling.

“Do you know what she said?”

“What did she say?”

“She said, ‘The President is very reliable, very serious about her work, and very kind to her juniors.'”

Bai Lu mimicked Li Li’s tone, lowering her voice and keeping her face expressionless, though a smile she couldn’t hide tugged at the corners of her mouth.

“And then she said, ‘But the President doesn’t know how to tie her hair, she can’t tie a neckerchief, and she can’t even reach the zipper on her back when she’s getting dressed.'”

My face flushed red.

“She also said…”

Bai Lu continued her impression, becoming even more serious this time.

“The President seems to know nothing about anything outside of astronomy, but she works so hard to learn. Every time Senior Xiao Yan teaches her something, she’s incredibly focused, her eyes wide and round like a kitten learning how to catch mice.”

“Did Li Li really say that?!”

My voice went up an octave.

Bai Lu laughed, her eyes curving into crescent moons.

“I lied. I added that last sentence myself.”

“Senior!”

She laughed even harder, her shoulders shaking.

After a moment, she stopped and looked at me, her gaze returning to that gentle, quiet state.

“But the part before that was true,” she said.

“Li Li told me many things about you. Those details…”

She began to count them on her fingers.

“Not knowing how to tie your hair, how to tie a neckerchief, or how to handle clothes with zippers.”

Then she lowered her hand and looked at me.

“None of those are actually the main point.”

She paused and took a step forward, closing the distance between us.

The faint scent of lavender drifted from her.

“The point is, when you encounter these things, your first reaction isn’t ‘I don’t know how to do this.'”

Her voice became very soft.

“It’s ‘So, this is how girls are supposed to do things.'”

I stood there, stunned.

The wind blew between us, tossing her hair across her face.

She didn’t reach out to brush it away; she just kept looking at me with that soft gaze.

“It feels like…”

Her voice dropped even lower, as if she were speaking to herself.

“Like you haven’t been a girl for very long.”

The wind stopped.

I stood frozen, unsure of what to say.

My fingers clenched and unclenched inside my pockets.

The scarf pressed against my face in the breeze, soft and warm.

“Senior,” I started, my voice steadier than before but still trembling slightly, “how could you even think I was a boy? Isn’t that like something out of the Arabian Nights?”

Bai Lu laughed.

That smile was different.

It wasn’t the gentle, warm smile from before, nor was it the playful one she used when mimicking Li Li.

It was a smile I couldn’t quite decipher.

She reached up to tuck the hair behind her ear, her movements slow.

“The country of Tianfang in the Arabian Nights is indeed very far away.”

She turned her head, looking toward the tents.

“But things that aren’t so far-fetched also exist.”

I followed her gaze.

The tent flap was still, with a warm yellow light glowing from within.

Song Tao’s snoring was faintly audible, along with the rustle of Li Li tossing and turning.

“Senior…”

“Look,” Bai Lu whispered, gesturing toward the tent with her chin.

The flap was lifted.

Lin Ming crawled out.

She had likely just woken up; her hair was a mess, with one side sticking up high like a bird’s nest blown by the wind.

Her scarf was lopsided, wrapped only halfway around with the other end dangling off her shoulder, nearly falling.

Her trench coat was wrapped tight, but she had missed a button, making the hem uneven.

She wasn’t wearing her glasses and squinted toward us.

Having just woken from a dream, her eyes hadn’t quite found their focus yet.

Under the moonlight, her usual cold aura was completely gone.

She looked like a groggy child.

She didn’t walk over.

She simply stood at the tent entrance, one hand holding the flap open and the other rubbing her eyes.

The wind made her hair even messier, but she didn’t care, just standing there in a daze.

“Why are you taking so long?”

She asked, her voice raspy and thick with sleep.

“Do you need help?”

Bai Lu looked at her, the corners of her mouth curving up.

It was such a gentle smile.

It wasn’t the general kindness she showed everyone; it was the kind of tenderness reserved for only one person.

“No need, we’ll be back in a second,” Bai Lu said.

Her voice wasn’t loud, but Lin Ming seemed to hear her.

She nodded and let go of the flap.

The fabric fell back into place, hiding her figure.

Bai Lu turned back to me.

Her eyes sparkled in the moonlight, and her lips carried a smile I couldn’t quite define—it was the smile of someone who knew the truth.

“Han Han,” her voice was light, as if meant only for my ears, “have you ever considered that some things might seem like the Arabian Nights, but are actually very close to you?”

I didn’t say a word.

She glanced at the tent again.

The flap moved slightly; Lin Ming was likely standing just outside waiting, her hand brushing the fabric.

The moonlight cast her shadow onto the tent—tall, thin, with messy hair sticking up.

She looked a bit clumsy.

“For example,” Bai Lu’s voice grew even softer as her gaze fell on that shadow, “a person who clearly should have been a boy, but is a girl in everyone’s memories.”

My heart skipped a beat.

“And for example,” she continued, drawing her gaze back from the tent to look at me, “this person thinks they are the only one in the world who knows the truth. But they don’t realize… that besides them, I’m the only one who knows.”

The wind gusted between us.

Bai Lu’s expression didn’t change; she remained gentle and calm.

But there was a light in her eyes—a light that said ‘I know you’re afraid, but it’s okay.’

“Senior…” My voice failed me.

She looked toward the tent one last time.

Lin Ming’s shadow was still leaning there, likely against the internal support frame of the tent.

The silhouette tilted slightly, as if she were nodding off.

“She used to be a boy too.”

Bai Lu spoke those words with absolute nonchalance.

It was as casual as if she were reading the morning weather report.

But in my mind…

It felt like something had snapped with a loud crack.

—