The confession broadcast nationwide was like a hurricane, reshaping the landscape of Nanshi overnight.

By the next morning, the headlines weren't just about physics. Lu Zhengyuan’s cold past was being ripped open by the authorities. The "Palace" was sealed by the police, and Lu Shaodong—the feared prince of the Lu empire—had become a penniless wanderer.

I stood under the ancient banyan tree behind the school hall, the sunlight filtering through the leaves in dappled patterns. I was still reeling from the events of the previous night until a familiar, low rumble echoed through the air.

Lu Shaodong swung his leg off his Ducati. He looked exhausted, with faint dark circles under his eyes, but his gaze was clearer than I’d ever seen it. He carried a single, worn canvas bag—the only thing he’d taken from that house.

"Owl," he said, walking toward me. That trademark smirk was on his face, but his voice was softer now. "I’m officially a broke jerk who can’t even afford a blueberry muffin. Do you still want me?"

I looked at him, my eyes stinging. I pushed up the titanium frames he’d given me and whispered, "You still have your mind, Lu Shaodong. That’s the most expensive asset in the world."

He gave a dry laugh and suddenly pulled me into a fierce embrace. This time, there were no shadows of patriarchy, no surveillance cameras—just two free souls.

"I gave all the trust funds to a legal aid foundation for victims of people like my father," he murmured into my hair, inhaling deeply as if trying to memorize my scent. "I have nothing left but this bike and you."

"You have a future," I replied.

But reality dealt us a swift blow just days later.

A week after the competition, the acceptance letters arrived. I had been accepted into the Physics Department at the prestigious North University in the capital. It was the best platform in the country and my ticket to escaping my family forever.

However, Lu’s situation was different. Because of the ongoing asset liquidation and legal proceedings against his father, Lu—as a legal heir—was required to remain in Nanshi for at least a year to oversee the judicial process. We were facing a gap of thousands of miles.

"Go, Ling Yin," Lu said on the platform of the Nanshi Railway Station. He was holding my suitcase, his eyes steady and resolute. "Don't stop for me. You belong out there in the world, shining. You shouldn't be stuck here helping me clean up this mess."

"But I'm scared..." I gripped my ticket tight.

"Scared of what?" He leaned down, claiming my lips in a bold, defiant kiss. In the middle of the crowded station, people stared and whispered, but he didn't care.

"Listen," he whispered against my ear, his voice a low, powerful vibration. "Physics tells us that distance doesn't mean disappearance; it’s just gravity acting across different dimensions. Whether you’re in Beijing or anywhere else, my gravity only pulls toward you."

He pulled a small box from his pocket. Inside was a silver necklace with a tiny atomic model pendant.

"Wear this. If you so much as look at another guy in university, this atom will undergo quantum entanglement, and I'll feel it all the way in Nanshi," he teased, though the longing in his eyes was palpable.

The train whistle shrieked. I had to board.

As the train pulled away, I watched his black-clad figure grow smaller on the platform. Lu Shaodong stood perfectly straight, like a spear that refused to break.

This was our first real test. I remembered what he said on TV: I was his only variable.

And now, that variable was traveling halfway across the country to write a script that was ours alone.