Chapter 21: Xiao Yan’s Concealment and Monologue

The sky outside the window had turned pitch black.

I sat at my desk, the desk lamp casting a small pool of warm yellow light.

Research materials were scattered across the surface.

There were blueprints of the Old Teaching Building, copies of the Star Track Map, magnetic field data sent by Lin Yu, and several old photographs I had dug out from the Astronomy Club archives.

A bag of Orange Candy sat by my hand, with only a few pieces remaining.

A neatly folded windbreaker was pressed under the corner of the table.

It was a girl’s style, blue and white, with a slight fade around the collar.

It was the one Han Hanhan wore when she transformed.

That day at home, she had draped it over the back of a chair after changing out of it.

Driven by some inexplicable impulse, I brought it home, folded it, and tucked it under the corner of the desk.

I saw it every time I walked by.

And every time I saw it, I would freeze for a moment.

I reached out and touched the hem of the uniform.

The fabric was soft.

It had been washed many times, yet I still felt as if a faint scent of shampoo lingered on it.

‘It isn’t a real smell,’ I thought. ‘It’s just the feeling of being reluctant to wash it away.’

I quickly pulled my hand back and flipped open the copy of the Star Track Map.

As my fingertips brushed against those Orange Candy marks, the image of the female Han Hanhan suddenly flashed through my mind.

She would huddle by the table in the Club Room, hugging her knees, pointing at the arcs on the Star Track Map while whispering.

“Doesn’t this… look a bit like a little duck?”

Her eyes would sparkle, her eyelashes casting small shadows under the light.

Back then, I had leaned in to look and asked, “Where does that look like a duck?”

She would get flustered and use her finger to trace along the stellar orbit.

“Look, this is the duck’s head, and these are the wings…”

I would laugh and stuff an Orange Candy into her mouth to silence her.

She would bite the candy, her eyes curving into crescents.

A tiny bit of sugar residue would cling to the corner of her mouth, sticky and glistening.

I would reach out to wipe it away for her, my fingertips grazing her soft cheek.

She would blush, but she never pulled away.

She was so short back then.

When we walked together, our shoulders would brush against each other, and our shadows would overlap.

She would secretly tug on my sleeve, lean her head on my shoulder while I looked at her phone, and tell me, “Xiao Yan, you’re so warm.”

She always got sugar on her face when she ate Orange Candy.

She was afraid of the cold and would shove her hands into my pockets during winter.

She didn’t dare go to the Back Mountain alone, so she made me accompany her to the Observatory every single time.

When she smiled, the whole world felt sweet.

My finger stopped over the mark on the Star Track Map, and I pressed down hard with my fingertip.

Changing back was the result he wanted most.

He wouldn’t have to wake up every morning to check his hair, his chest, or the mirror to confirm who he was.

He wouldn’t have to fear his classmates discovering his secret.

He wouldn’t have to hide so carefully anymore.

He would grow taller, return to his male form, wear well-fitting men’s clothes, and speak with his original voice.

He would never have to be afraid again.

I should be happy for him.

‘So why,’ I wondered, ‘does my heart feel so empty when I touch the hem of this school uniform?’

The object in my pocket suddenly grew hot.

I pulled it out.

It was a fragment of the Resonance Badge I had brought back from the Observatory.

After the blue light faded, it had shattered into several pieces of stone, and I had pocketed one.

The fragment burned in my palm.

For a fleeting second, a face seemed to be reflected on its surface.

It was the smiling face of the female Han Hanhan.

Her eyes were curved into crescents, and there was sugar residue at the corner of her mouth.

I stared at that face, and my heart skipped a beat.

I blinked, and the face vanished, leaving only a dull, grey piece of stone.

I clenched it tight and shoved it back into my pocket.

I turned to the magnetic field data Lin Yu had provided, which was filled with dense rows of numbers and curves.

I read it line by line until my gaze stopped at the final annotation:

[Peak day transformation probability increased by 10%]

My fingertips suddenly froze.

10%.

A one-in-ten chance.

If he went to the Old Teaching Building, even if he chose to permanently fix his gender as male, there was still a 10% chance he would turn back into a girl.

My hand hovered over that line of text for a long time.

I took a pen and crossed out the annotation, striking it several times until the original words were illegible.

Then, I stared at the paper and dazed out for a while.

On a strange whim, I folded the paper and tucked it under the bag of Orange Candy.

***

The following afternoon, I went to the library to look up old records about the Astronomy Club.

The library was on the second floor.

The light was dim, and the aisles between the bookshelves were narrow.

I was carrying several old yearbooks when I turned a corner.

I saw him.

Han Hanhan was huddled by a bookshelf in the corner, standing on his tiptoes, reaching for a copy of “Stellar Orbit Observation Manual” on the top shelf.

He was wearing the jacket I had bought for him.

It was a loose fit, but his shoulders filled out the lines nicely.

Because he couldn’t reach it, his back was pulled taut and the tips of his ears were slightly red.

He reached for it several times, but his fingertips only brushed the spine of the book.

It didn’t budge.

In the past, when the female Han Hanhan couldn’t reach a book, she would simply tug on my sleeve and shake it, looking up at me and shouting, “Xiao Yan, help me!”

She was so short then; I could reach anything with a simple lift of my arm.

Now, he was a bit taller than me.

I had to tilt my head slightly to see his profile.

I stepped forward, pulled over a chair to stand on, and reached out to grab the book for him.

Just as my fingers touched the spine, his hand reached out as well.

Our fingers brushed against each other.

As if struck by an electric shock, we both pulled back at the same time.

The book fell to the floor with a heavy thud, the pages fluttering open to a specific chapter.

“S-sorry…”

He hurriedly knelt down to pick up the book, his ears turning deep red.

I knelt down as well, and our hands touched once more.

This time, we pulled away even faster.

“I’ll do it,” I said, grabbing the book before he could.

“…Thanks.”

He stood up and took the book.

He kept his head down, not daring to look at me.

His voice was low and raspy, carrying that characteristic depth of a boy.

“Are you here to look up research too?” I asked.

“Yeah. I wanted to find clues about the Anchor Point.”

He gripped the book, his thumb rubbing against the cover.

I noticed he was holding a notebook in his other hand.

The cover had a small drawing of Saturn’s rings on it.

The female version of him had drawn that.

The strokes were soft, and there were several stars drawn next to the rings.

He still hadn’t been able to bring himself to replace it.

“I’m also here to research the history of the Old Teaching Building,” I said.

“Together?”

He glanced up at me, then quickly looked down again.

“Okay.”

We found a table near the window and sat down.

In the past, she would have sat right next to me.

Her elbows would bump into mine from time to time, her head would lean close, and her breath would carry the sweetness of Orange Candy.

She would even sneakily brush her hand against mine.

Now, he sat across from me with the entire table between us.

He kept his head down as he flipped through the book, his eyelashes casting a small shadow over his eyes.

He gripped the pages, turning them slowly and earnestly.

His hands had grown larger.

His joints were well-defined, and his nails were trimmed neatly.

In the past, his hands were soft and small; I could fit both of them inside one of mine.

I stared at his hands for several seconds before quickly averting my gaze.

“Xiao Yan.”

He called my name.

“Yeah?”

“This…”

He turned the book toward me and pointed at a page.

“The history of the Old Teaching Building mentions the original Astronomy Club.”

I leaned in to look.

His finger was pointing at a line of text: “The original club badge featured a triangular pattern, symbolizing ‘Three Stars as One’.”

“That symbol,” I said.

“Yeah. It’s the same as the carving on the Star Track Map.”

We both looked up at the same time, catching each other’s gaze.

There was a sparkle in his eyes—the excitement of finding a clue, or perhaps something else.

“So the Anchor Point is likely related to the original President,” he said.

“Lin Yu said the magnetic field in the Old Teaching Building is unstable. The Anchor Point is most likely tied to one of the original President’s belongings.”

I pulled out my phone and showed him Lin Yu’s message.

He finished reading and fell silent for a few seconds.

“Are we… going?”

He gripped his pen, his voice tightening slightly.

“If we go, I can stabilize my male form, right?”

He looked at me.

His eyes didn’t seem to hold anticipation, but rather a sliver of hesitation.

It was a tiny, tiny doubt hidden in the depths of his gaze, like a seed buried in the soil.

Two voices were fighting in my mind.

‘Go.’

‘Of course we have to go.’

This was what he had been hoping for all this time.

Once he stabilized, he wouldn’t have to live in fear anymore.

He wouldn’t have to wake up every morning wondering who he was or worry about being discovered.

This was what he deserved.

‘But… what if there really is a 10% chance he changes back?’

‘Just let me see that soft, dependent version of him one more time.’

‘Just once.’

“Of course we’re going,” I said.

My voice sounded light and cheerful, carrying a smile.

“We’ll definitely find the Anchor Point and help you stabilize completely.”

He smiled.

It was a bashful smile.

The corners of his mouth tilted up slightly, and the tips of his ears turned red again.

“Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it.”

I looked down at my book, too guilty to meet his eyes.

I clenched the fragment of the badge in my hand, my nails digging into my palm until it hurt.

***

After leaving the library, we went back to his house to organize the data.

A pile of materials was spread across the desk.

He sat on the left, and I sat on the right, with about a fist’s width of distance between us.

He sat there quietly, his back straight, twirling a pen in his hand.

Occasionally, he would look up at me, only to look back down immediately.

“Xiao Yan.”

“Yeah?”

“Here…”

He handed over a Star Track Map, pointing at a location.

“The coordinates for the gap in the map match the location of the Old Teaching Building.”

I reached out to take it, and my fingertips brushed the back of his hand.

Like an electric shock, we both recoiled.

The map drifted to the floor.

“I’ll get it.”

I lunged down before he could.

He leaned down as well.

Our heads nearly collided.

“…Sorry.”

He took a half-step back.

“It’s fine.”

I picked up the map and placed it on the table.

The atmosphere felt strange.

It wasn’t exactly awkward, but something indefinable.

It was as if we were both carefully avoiding something, yet neither of us knew how to speak.

My phone vibrated. It was a message from Lin Yu.

“The magnetic field distortion in the Old Teaching Building is intensifying. The Anchor Point is likely an artifact of the first President, located in the basement. The peak has moved up to tomorrow night. The window is only ten minutes.”

I stared at the screen, my fingers turning cold.

It had moved up. It wasn’t three days from now; it was tomorrow night.

“What is it?”

He leaned over to look.

“Lin Yu said…”

I handed the phone to him.

“The peak moved up. It’s tomorrow night.”

He looked at the screen and pursed his lips.

“Then we’re going tomorrow night?”

“…Yeah,” I replied, taking the phone back.

“We’ll go tomorrow night.”

He lowered his head and continued flipping through the records.

His profile looked soft under the desk lamp, and the shadow of his eyelashes fell across his cheekbones.

In the past, when he sat here, he would secretly stretch out his foot to hook mine.

Now, his feet were planted firmly on the ground, far away from me.

I suddenly felt like crying. It wasn’t sadness.

It was an indefinable ache that surged from my chest to my nose, only to be swallowed back down.

I unwrapped an Orange Candy and popped it into my mouth.

It was sweet, but it didn’t taste the same as before.

***

Night fell quickly.

He walked me downstairs.

The streetlights stretched our shadows out long, casting them on the ground like two parallel lines.

His shadow was a head taller than mine, his shoulders broader, his silhouette sharper.

In the past, our shadows were the same height.

When we walked together, they would overlap until you couldn’t tell who was who.

She would intentionally step on my shadow and say, “Now that I’ve stepped on your shadow, you can’t run away.”

I had laughed and called her childish.

Now, his shadow was beside me, and my hand hung at my side, unable to reach it.

I pulled out the last Orange Candy, peeled the wrapper, and handed it to him.

“This is the last one.”

He took it shyly, his ears turning red again.

“Thanks.”

In the past, when the female version of him took the candy, she would stand on her tiptoes, her eyes curving into crescents.

She would shove it into her mouth immediately and then intentionally rub the sugar residue on my face.

Now, he just quietly accepted it, put it in his mouth, chewed twice, and swallowed.

“In the past, when you ate this candy, you always got it on your face.”

The moment the words left my mouth, I regretted them.

I hurriedly added, “I mean, back then, you were so clumsy.”

He froze for a moment.

Then, he laughed.

It was a bashful laugh, the corners of his mouth curving slightly as his eyes brightened.

“I won’t do that anymore,” he said.

I gripped my phone and looked up at Han Hanhan.

He was looking down, peeling a candy wrapper, his profile appearing very gentle under the streetlights.

His eyelashes were lowered, his nose was high, and his lips were slightly pursed.

He didn’t know.

He didn’t know there was a 10% chance he would transform again.

He didn’t know what might happen tomorrow night when he stood in that magnetic field.

He thought going there would stabilize him.

He thought it would finally be over.

Should I tell him? Or…

I clenched the fragment, my nails digging into my palm.

Tomorrow night.

Would I help him find the Anchor Point and completely stabilize his male form?

Or… would I let the magnetic field run wild just to see that soft version of him one more time?

“Xiao Yan?”

He looked up at me.

“What’s wrong? You look pale.”

“Nothing.”

I shoved the fragment back into my pocket and forced a guilty smile.

“Tomorrow night… we’ll go together.”

He nodded.

“Okay.”

The streetlights stretched his shadow long.

I stood beside him, looking at those two shadows on the ground that no longer overlapped.

The fragment in my pocket was still burning.

One beat at a time, just like a heartbeat.