[Chapter 11 ]

Haiyang University, Department of Modern Literature

The classroom buzzed with the low hum of chatter as students settled into their seats. Warm golden light spilled through the large windows, dust motes floating lazily in the air. A dusty chalkboard stretched across the front, scrawled with the course title: Introduction to Modern Literature.

I slid into the third row, the seat by the window-my usual spot for disappearing into my own thoughts. My backpack thudded lightly beside me. The faint scent of instant coffee still clung to my hoodie, a souvenir from this morning's rushed start. And luckily, I was on time.

For once, so was Chen Yuxi.

"Lan Zhan," he whispered dramatically as he flopped into the seat next to mine, all limbs and late-night energy. "Mark this day. I arrived before roll call. I might have altered the fate line of the universe."

He pulled his constellation-printed hoodie halfway over his head and slid his phone into his lap like he was hiding from both the syllabus and accountability.

"Don't get used to it," I muttered, side-eyeing him.

"I won't. Mars is in retrograde next week. I'll be back to chaos shortly." He clicked a dead pen repeatedly like a fidget toy.

Then his voice dipped lower, more serious. "Also, rude of you to ignore my psychic check-in this morning." He pulled out a constellation-covered notebook with dramatic flair. "I texted you like five times. Three memes, two unhinged voice notes about Mercury, and a text that just said:

'Lan Zhan you're emotionally MISSING. Ghosting is not an air sign trait.'"

"I was... thinking," I said.

"No offense, but your version of 'thinking' looks like a horror movie trailer," he shot back. "All shadows, no soundtrack."

He leaned in, peering at me like I was a half-solved puzzle. "And today you've got, like, full ghost mode activated. Emotionally missing. You okay?"

I said nothing, staring at the edge of my desk like it held the answer.

"Yeah, thought so," Chen sighed, but his tone held no judgment-just concern wrapped in sarcasm. "Moon's in Pisces. Everyone's spiraling today."

Before I could dodge further commentary, the door creaked open.

Mo Longyan stepped inside.

His presence was unmistakable. Calm. Composed. His gaze swept across the room with a quiet alertness that felt like an unspoken challenge. He wore a simple black jacket and jeans-nothing flashy-but moved like he belonged somewhere far older, deeper, and quieter than this lecture hall. Like a wǔxiá hero dropped into a modern campus.

My breath caught.

Nearby, a girl with glasses and a messy ponytail nudged the boy next to her and whispered, "Isn't that Mo Longyan? I heard about that thing at the 7-Eleven yesterday."

The boy, who looked like he lived for headphones and manga, nodded with a grin.

"Yeah, I saw someone post about it. Rumor is he's some kind of Taekwondo prodigy. They say he stopped a robbery."

Chen perked up, catching the tail end. "Wait-is that the same Mo who's the new kid right here in our class?" he whispered, eyes lighting up.

"Yeah," I murmured.

He stared harder. "Ohhh. That's why your aura's fried. You've got mystery-boy brain fog."

The classroom door swung open again.

A tall woman with sharp eyes and a smirk that didn't suffer fools walked in.

"Good morning, everyone." Her voice was firm but not unkind. "I'm Miss Wang Rui. I will be your new instructor this semester for Modern Literature. If you're in the wrong room, now's the time to run."

The class chuckled quietly.

"I expect punctuality, participation, and that everyone puts away their phones before class starts."

Her gaze landed squarely on Chen, who held his phone up like he'd just been caught mid-crime.

"Already off," he lied smoothly, sliding it into his pocket with exaggerated innocence.

Miss Wang paused by Mo's desk near the window and nodded once.

"Also, that's Mo Longyan, joining us this semester. You might want to remember the name." Her voice was quiet, but carried enough weight to turn heads.

Mo didn't look at anyone, didn't speak. He simply settled into his seat, unreadable.

Just before the lights dimmed, he glanced my way. Our eyes met briefly. Recognition flickered in his gaze-then it was gone.

Class began.

But I couldn't focus on the slides. I could only think about the way Mo Longyan looked when he stepped into the light-and the silence he left behind him.

[Author's note]

First of all-yes, I know. I took forever. You have every right to glare at your screen like Lan Zhan does at his desk when he's spiraling. I'm so sorry for the wait! Life got a little... Mercury-in-retrograde meets Taekwondo-at-7-Eleven.

But we're back! And let's be real-if there's one thing that pops in this chapter, it's Chen Yuxi's absolutely chaotic "psychic check-in" energy. I mean, three memes, two unhinged voice notes, and a text that says "ghosting is not an air sign trait"? He is both the drama and the emotional support friend we all need.

Also: Mo Longyan walked into a classroom and somehow created more tension than the final boss in an action movie, without saying a single word. Iconic.

Thanks for sticking around. The silence has officially been broken. Let's keep going. 💫

- [Distinct-unique_bird]