Mo Longyan POV

The golden sunlight spilling through the windows caught the dust in slow, lazy swirls. Mo adjusted his glasses, a subtle reflex, remembering his grandfather’s words: “If you look calm and collected, people tend to trust you—even if your mind is racing.” He didn’t really need the glasses, but he’d been told they made him “look smarter.” He laughed softly to himself from his grandfather’s advice. Maybe he’d keep them on today.

Stepping into the classroom, he felt the usual weight of new eyes on him—the inevitable scrutiny of being the new student—but he didn’t flinch. Observation was second nature. His gaze swept across the students, noting posture, expressions, the easy chatter of familiar routines.

And then he saw him.

Lan Zhan.

He was immediately aware of the precision in his movements, the quiet control over himself, the way his attention seemed to drift yet anchor on subtle details. Mo’s chest stirred, a faint, unfamiliar feeling—intrigue, yes, but also a pull toward something he couldn’t yet name.

He noticed the whispered glances, the soft murmur about “the 7-Eleven incident,” and the chaos energy of the boy next to Lan Zhan—Chen Yuxi. Mo’s lips quirked in the tiniest smile; the universe had a funny way of lining up energy and chaos in the same classroom.

Taking his seat near the window, he let his eyes wander, just enough to catch Lan Zhan at the third row. Their eyes met, briefly. Recognition flashed—a memory of that night, the robbery, the fleeting connection at the bus stop. Then the moment was gone. Mo’s expression hardened into calm neutrality, but inside, a quiet question lingered: Do I want to be his friend?

The professor’s voice drew him out of his thoughts. He observed, listened, analyzed, but his attention kept straying to Lan Zhan: calm, contained, somehow isolated even in the middle of the crowd. Mo made a mental note—this was someone worth understanding, not just someone to endure.

When the lecture ended, Mo gathered his things with quiet efficiency. As the room emptied, he lingered, allowing Lan Zhan’s presence to guide the flow of his own steps.