The soft echo of the piano still lingered in the air, fading like a warm breeze at sunset.
Lin Feng leaned against the doorway, arms crossed, watching Jiang Yue'er as her fingers hovered over the final key, like she didn't want the moment to end.
For a second, the girl in front of him wasn't the proud, untouchable beauty who turned down confessions like it was a sport. She just looked... tired. Beautiful, but tired. Like someone carrying a weight no one had bothered to ask about.
He took a step closer. "Not bad. If depression ever becomes an Olympic sport, you've got gold in the bag."
Jiang Yue'er blinked—then gave a short laugh she clearly didn't expect. "You're such a jerk."
"Yeah, but I'm a charming one," Lin Feng said, pulling out the chair beside her. He spun it backwards and rested his arms on the backrest. "Seriously though. That piece wasn't just music—it was a story."
Her lips tightened. "It's an old one. I wrote it for someone who left."
[System: Host, should I generate a tragic backstory now? I can throw in orphans, rain, and maybe a broken vending machine for maximum sadness.]
Lin Feng rolled his eyes slightly but didn't say anything back. His gaze stayed on her.
"You still care about them?" he asked quietly.
"I don't know." She looked down at her hands. "I guess it's just… when people leave, the music stays."
That hit harder than he thought it would.
There was a long silence. The kind that isn't awkward—just… honest.
Jiang Yue'er suddenly stood and stretched. "Anyway, thanks for listening. I didn't think anyone else would care."
Lin Feng stood up too, brushing imaginary dust from his sleeve. "Well, it's your lucky day. I'm in a charitable mood."
[System: Oh wow. Host helping someone without throwing a black card? Did you hit your head or just get emotionally compromised by Chopin's ghost?]
He ignored it again.
Jiang Yue'er grabbed her bag but paused. "Actually… do you know any quiet places on campus where the piano isn't... falling apart?"
"Maybe," Lin Feng said, pretending to think. "You free around lunch tomorrow?"
She narrowed her eyes, but a faint smile tugged at her lips. "Depends. Are you asking me out or offering me a piano?"
He raised an eyebrow. "Why not both?"
[System: Host, I swear, if you flirt any harder, we're gonna need a romance license.]
Jiang Yue'er shook her head with a smile that felt a little too warm for someone who claimed not to care. "Sure. I'll come."
As they left the music room together, the evening sun cast long shadows down the hallway behind them. Lin Feng didn't look back—but something about the weight in Jiang Yue'er's footsteps felt lighter.