The library of the Provincial Experimental Quanxin Middle School is located in the southeast corner of the campus. It is a three-story European-style building with red brick exterior walls covered with ivy, shining glossy in the sunlight.
Ye Fanshuang liked the third seat by the window the most - there was an oak desk that was polished to a shine. In the lower right corner of the desk was engraved the word "forever" left by an unknown class of students. The letter "o" was drawn very deeply, like an eye that was always open.
Ye Fanshuang didn't take last night's incident seriously. She arrived twenty minutes earlier than usual just to get a good vantage point where she could see the entrance and the entire reading area.
Her schoolbag contained a newly bought hardcover edition of "Principles of Economics". The gold-embossed spine of the book reflected tiny rays of light in the sun, but she had no intention of opening it at the moment.
"Click."
Familiar footsteps echoed down the wooden stairs. Ye Fanshuang's fingertips unconsciously scratched the page, leaving a shallow crease.
She knew who it was without even looking up—Ye Qingliu's footsteps were always a fraction lighter than those of others, but there was a subtle pause on the third step, as if he was habitually checking whether there was dust on the soles of his shoes.
Sure enough, the slender figure appeared at the corner of the stairs. He was wearing a crisp white shirt today, with the top button undone, revealing a cold white collarbone.
The sunlight filtering through the stained glass cast mottled shadows on him, making him look like a medieval oil painting.
Ye Fanshuang quickly lowered her head, pretending to concentrate on reading. She could feel her heartbeat getting abnormally fast, and the tips of her ears began to burn.
This is so stupid, she cursed herself inwardly. The heir to the Ye Group, an honor student with a perfect SAT score, was hiding in the corner of the library like a Peeping Tom.
Ye Qingliu paused for a moment in the economics section and pulled out an annotated copy of The Wealth of Nations. His fingers were long and clean, his nails neatly trimmed. There was a small mole on the protruding wrist bone, like a drop of solidified ink.
Ye Fanshuang had practiced drawing this detail repeatedly in his sketchbook, but he could never capture that casual elegance.
He chose a seat next to the bookshelf, just in front of Ye Fanshuang at a 45-degree angle. This distance was enough for her to see the shadow cast by his eyelashes, but not so close that it would attract attention.
At a perfect safe distance, she made a mental note of the discovery and prepared to enter it into the encrypted folder that night - where more than seven hundred similar observation records were already stored.
"Crash."
The sound of Ye Qingliu turning the pages was very soft, but in Ye Fanshuang's ears it was as clear as thunder. She noticed that he had a little habit when reading: when he came across an important paragraph, he would unconsciously rub the edge of the page with his thumb until the paper was slightly wrinkled.
This action made him look unexpectedly humane, unlike the legendary business genius who won the Ye family's overseas project at the age of sixteen.
Ye Fanshuang was lost in thought when she suddenly felt someone's gaze fall upon her. She straightened her back reflexively, only to hear a sneer from behind her.
"Miss Ye is quite elegant."
Zhou Ziqian had stood behind her at some point, and the strong scent of cologne on him made her frown. He was wearing a flashy shirt with the collar open and his school uniform jacket draped over him, looking like a peacock from a nouveau riche family.
"Get out of the way." Ye Fanshuang closed the book and lowered his voice. In his peripheral vision, Ye Qingliu seemed to be startled by the movement here and looked up.
Zhou Ziqian didn't leave. Instead, he pulled out a chair opposite her and sat down. He deliberately said in a voice loud enough for everyone to hear: "What are you looking at so engrossed?"
He followed Ye Fanshuang's previous gaze and raised his eyebrows exaggeratedly, "Oh - Ye Qingliu."
Several students in the library had already turned their heads to look over here. Ye Fanshuang felt a fire burning from his chest to his ears, but his face showed no sign of it.
She slowly put the bookmark into page 108 of "Principles of Economics" - which happened to talk about the concept of "silence cost", and the irony made her want to laugh.
"Zhou Ziqian." Her voice was soft, yet filled with undeniable coldness. "Last Friday night, in room 2806 of the Jinyue Hotel, do I need to remind you who you were with?"
Zhou Ziqian's smile froze. He had indeed used a family social event as an excuse to sneak out and meet a young internet celebrity last week, but not even his father knew about it.
"You...what are you talking about?"
Ye Fanshuang pulled out a photo from his phone album and waved it under the table.
The scene showed Zhou Ziqian hugging a girl as they entered the elevator. The timestamp read 1:17 a.m. That night, Zhou Real Estate had just announced its marriage to the daughter of Lin's Bank.
"Now," Ye Fanshuang put away his phone and tapped the table lightly with his fingertips, "Get lost."
Zhou Ziqian stood up with a sullen face, and the chair scraped against the floor with a harsh sound. Before leaving, he glared at Ye Fanshuang fiercely, but when he met her cold gaze, he subconsciously shrank his neck.
Only after Zhou Ziqian walked away did Ye Fanshuang breathe a sigh of relief.
She subconsciously looked in the direction of Ye Qingliu, but found that his seat was empty. The annotated version of "The Wealth of Nations" lay quietly on the bookshelf, with an inconspicuous corner on the edge of the page - exactly where he had just read.
Ye Fanshuang walked over as if possessed, and ran his fingers over the crease. The paper still retained a trace of warmth, like some kind of secret connection.
She hesitated for a moment, and finally just gently smoothed out the crease and pushed the book back into place.
As they left the library, the setting sun fell right on the school motto tablet, and the four gilded characters "Mingde Zhishan" gleamed in the twilight. Ye Fanshuang stood on the steps, watching Ye Qingliu's receding figure gradually melt into the sunset glow.
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