Xu Lingwei reached the institute just as she was already waiting at the entrance, her arms crossed, eyes scanning the crowd until they landed on him.
Without a word, she strode over and took his archery set bag from his shoulder.
"What are you doing?" Xu Lingwei asked, startled.
"Let me," Hua Rong replied simply, gripping the strap firmly before he could protest. Then, before he could say anything more, she grabbed his wrist and pulled him along, quick on her feet.
Not into the institute, not all the way. Just enough inside that, from Yueming's perspective—likely peering from one of the upper windows—it would look like Xu Lingwei had gone in already. She glanced around, then handed him a folded slip of paper.
"I will hide your bag in the back hall. Now go before you're late for the audition!" she said, giving him a light shove toward the archery hall.
Xu Lingwei turned halfway, hesitant. "Will you not come with me?" he asked, almost under his breath.
Hua Rong smiled, brushing the hair away from her face. "I have to give my audition here."
Ah. That's right.
Unlike him, Hua Rong was here entirely of her own will. And unlike him, she'd been practicing archery with her whole heart.
He nodded slowly, taking a deep breath before heading off in the opposite direction, while she watched him go
After slipping Xu Lingwei's bag into the pile of others in the corner hallway—carefully wedged between two identical black cases so no one would notice—Hua Rong made her way to the archery range.
The air buzzed with low chatter and the tension of competition. Several students had already taken their positions, bows in hand, eyes forward. As her gaze scanned the group, it paused the moment she saw him.
Jiang Zemin. Calm, tall, and annoyingly confident, standing right in the center as if the range belonged to him. His sleeves were rolled up, and his bow rested lazily in one hand like it was merely an extension of himself.
Hua Rong's breath caught, but she held her head high and walked to her designated position. She ignored the few whispers exchanged between students, focused only on securing her stance and nocking the arrow onto the bowstring. Her fingers adjusted it with care, her eyes steady on the target.
Jiang Zemin turned his head toward her, his voice smooth."Where's your friend? Not coming?"He meant Xu Lingwei.
"I don't know," she replied curtly, not looking at him.
A low chuckle left his lips. "Do you really think you can beat me and get selected?"
She didn't flinch. She just gave a soft smile, almost amused. "That, I don't know…" she said as she drew the string back, muscles taut, breath calm, "…but I do know one thing—" her fingers released the arrow in a clean, fluid motion, "—I want to give it my best shot."
The arrow whistled through the air.
Thud. It struck the dead center of the target, perfectly aligned in the bullseye.
A ripple of awe moved through the crowd. Hua Rong lowered her bow with a serene smile as Jiang Zemin stared at the target, his smirk faltering for just a second.
...
The sun had begun its slow descent, casting long shadows over the emptying school grounds. Hua Rong stood just outside the institute building, cradling Xu Lingwei's archery set in her arms like a precious secret. The audition had ended, the buzz of students now fading into the distance as one by one they trickled out, chatting about results, performance, and names that would soon be on the selection list.
But her eyes weren't on them—her eyes were on the road.
Xu Lingwei hadn't come yet.
Her grip on the bag tightened, her heart drumming a nervous rhythm. What if Yueming arrives before him? What would she say? How would she explain? The thought made her stomach twist.
She shifted from one foot to another, scanning every vehicle that pulled into view—until finally, a car appeared at the far gate.
Her eyes widened. That has to be Yueming.
In a rush of instinct, she turned toward the guard station, flagging down the old security uncle who sat half-dozing with a radio on low volume.
"Uncle!" she called breathlessly. He looked up."If anyone asks, just say… I and Xu Lingwei are inside already, alright?"
He gave a sleepy nod, not fully grasping the urgency, but it was good enough. Hua Rong gave him a small, grateful smile, then darted back toward the institute building, slipping in and moving swiftly down the hall.
She reached a window overlooking the back path just in time—and there he was.
Xu Lingwei. Running. His shirt slightly untucked, sweat beading on his forehead, and the paper clutched tightly in his hand.
Her eyes narrowed. Judging by his speed and direction, she could guess: Yueming must already be at the front gate.
Without thinking, Hua Rong pulled the window open and jumped down from the ledge, her shoes hitting the grass with a soft thud. She sprinted toward him and grabbed his wrist before he could move any farther.
"Don't go that way!" she whispered.He blinked, confused. "What—"
"Yueming is probably at the entrance. Come through the window, quickly!"
Still catching his breath, Xu Lingwei didn't argue. She half-dragged, half-guided him back to the wall where she had jumped from. He hoisted himself up clumsily, with her pushing from behind, and soon both of them were back inside.
They leaned against the wall for a moment, chests rising and falling, breath mingling in the quiet.
"How was your audition?" she asked, still holding his bag.
A smile broke across his face, boyish and bright. "I got selected."
Her eyes lit up as she let out a small, gleeful gasp and jumped with joy. "I knew it!" she beamed. "Congratulations, Xu Lingwei!"
He chuckled, then looked at her expectantly. "And yours?"
Her smile faltered just slightly. The brightness dimmed.
"Jiang Zemin got selected," she said softly, gaze lowering. "Only one student could be picked from our institute… and of course, it was him."
Before he could say anything, she shook her head and lifted her chin with that stubborn fire in her eyes.
"But it's fine. Don't worry about me. I'll just work harder and do better next time."
Then, as if the moment had never weighed her down, she nudged him toward the hallway.
"Now hurry. Yueming is at the entrance. If he catches you out of place, we're both done for."
Xu Lingwei gave her a quiet nod and a grateful glance before jogging off.
And Hua Rong stood by the window again, watching him disappear into the corridor's curve, the ghost of a smile lingering on her lips—half pride, half promise.