Night.
The starry sky was clear and bright, dotted with countless shimmering stars.
Special Compound.
Li Guanqi brought Yaya to a nearby stream and set her down, pointing to the clear water. "There are fish and shrimp here. You can play around."
Yaya nodded as if she understood, though she didn’t make a sound. Instead, she flapped her wings cheerfully and waddled to the stream, pecking at the stones before dunking her entire head into the water to hunt for fish and shrimp.
Li Guanqi sat on a large rock nearby. Dressed in a black dress, her face was expressionless, yet she radiated a serene tranquility, blending seamlessly into the night—utterly beautiful.
Why had she brought Yaya out at night?
Because crows are nocturnal by nature. She didn’t want to suppress Yaya’s instincts, nor did she want her to grow too plump to fly—like the neighbor’s housebound cat.
Post-meal exercise was a must.
At the same time, Li Guanqi also wanted to give herself a moment of peace.
Gazing at the flowing stream, she thought about the day’s events, her brows furrowing deeper with worry. It seemed she had stumbled upon some unsolvable problem, and she let out a soft sigh.
Just then, the sound of a zither drifted from afar—melodic and haunting. Li Guanqi paused, then signaled for Yaya to stay put before following the music.
Soon, she spotted a young woman seated beneath an ancient willow tree, playing on a wooden chair.
Her hands rested gracefully on the guzheng, her slender, pale fingers trembling slightly, glowing under the moonlight as they plucked the strings. The notes that flowed forth carried a soulful tremor, so captivating that one couldn’t help but hold their breath and listen.
A melody unfolded beneath the moon.
"........................"
But what surprised Li Guanqi was that the girl stopped playing abruptly halfway through.
Li Guanqi blinked, then looked ahead at Gu Ruoxue—her posture frozen like a flickering blue flame, fragile enough to evoke sorrow.
She watched for a long while.
She knew it must have been Su Cheng’s situation that disrupted Gu Ruoxue’s focus, causing her to halt. Yet Li Guanqi remained silent, simply observing.
Deep down, there was one thing she couldn’t comprehend: Why hadn’t Gu Ruoxue stopped Su Cheng from doing something foolish?
From the melancholic tune she had been playing, it was clear Gu Ruoxue was unsettled.
No doubt, she wasn’t in a good state.
Li Guanqi didn’t understand.
Logically, if everyone pooled their wisdom and shared the burden, they could have found a perfect solution.
And this collaborative approach was very much in line with Gu Ruoxue’s style.
Yet she hadn’t acted.
Instead, she had watched as Su Cheng sank deeper into his troubles.
Though they had prepared for the worst, it wasn’t foolproof. If something unexpected happened...
The thought made Li Guanqi uneasy.
"You’ve been listening for a while. What do you want to ask?"
A cool, slightly husky voice broke the silence. Li Guanqi looked up to see Gu Ruoxue’s hands resting on the strings, her gaze calm and unfazed—as if she had sensed Li Guanqi’s presence long ago.
"My apologies for intruding on your performance, Senior."
Li Guanqi spoke evenly, stepping closer before stopping a short distance away.
Gu Ruoxue plucked the strings again, producing a soft, harmonious tune—perhaps tuning the instrument.
"Who are you playing for?" Li Guanqi asked softly, studying Gu Ruoxue’s breathtakingly beautiful face.
"Myself."
Gu Ruoxue glanced at her briefly before refocusing on the guzheng.
Li Guanqi waited in silence.
A quiet tension lingered between them.
After a long pause, Li Guanqi finally voiced the question weighing on her heart.
"Senior, do you really plan to do nothing? Just sit here playing melancholic tunes to ease your loneliness?"
Her words were sharp and deliberate, as if demanding an explanation.
Yet Gu Ruoxue merely gave her a fleeting look before staring into the distance, her gaze unfathomable.
Li Guanqi stood beside her, taking in her delicate profile, momentarily at a loss for words.
"Respect is also a choice."
Hearing this, Li Guanqi fell silent. She understood Gu Ruoxue’s feelings.
They had asked Su Cheng to find his own answer.
Now, burdened with anguish and struggle, he was chasing after his ideal resolution. Would stopping him now be too cruel?
"But I believe what he’s doing is wrong."
"And then? You think you alone can change his answer?"
Gu Ruoxue continued playing softly, her voice distant, her eyes fixed on some unseen point far away.
Li Guanqi watched her, fully grasping the implication behind her words.
But even so...
Li Guanqi clenched her fists tightly, unable to hold back her words. "Even so, I don’t want to see an answer like this."
Gu Ruoxue shook her head, her gaze still fixed somewhere in the distance, her voice soft and drifting.
"Some people won’t realize they need to change their path until they’ve crashed into a wall—until they’ve died once, or until those trying to pull them back are left battered and bruised. If that’s the case, then let them die once."
Hearing this, Li Guanqi’s eyes narrowed slightly, unsure how to respond. What Gu Ruoxue said was the truth, but it was also a truth that chilled her to the bone.
"If he can reflect and grow from it, then that moment might just be the beginning of his transformation."
Gu Ruoxue smiled faintly, her eyes fixed on Li Guanqi as if waiting for her to voice the answer she most wanted to hear. When Li Guanqi remained silent, she gently prompted, "By then, he might finally stop running away and make the right choice."
"..."
Li Guanqi understood this too, but the cruelty of it toward Su Cheng still made her hesitate.
She could imagine the immense suffering Su Cheng would endure—when the entire world no longer remembered him, leaving him utterly alone.
Li Guanqi gritted her teeth.
"But then again..."
She spoke slowly, her tone resolute. "We can’t account for every possibility. There’s too much uncertainty in this. What if Su Cheng ends up making a choice even you couldn’t predict—"
"Whether we’ve accounted for it or not, we still have to make our own decisions. Regret can come later, after the choice is made."
……………………………
The next day
Su Cheng climbed out of bed.
After washing up and getting dressed, he headed out the door.
He had two main tasks for the day.
First, pick up Liu Qingyue tonight. Second, find a way to secure the A-rank reward from her.
He had already planned everything out.
But no matter how thorough the plan, there was always room for oversight.
The problem was that Liu Qingyue only owed him one favor.
Confessing once was fine—after all, she owed him.
But if he kept making her confess every single day, even an idiot would notice something was off.
What would he say when she inevitably questioned him?
So, if Su Cheng wanted Liu Qingyue to become his daily "wish-granting maiden," he’d need another approach.
Lost in thought, he made his way to school. Since he arrived early, he didn’t run into any familiar students—until he passed a certain spot while pushing his bike and spotted a familiar figure with long, straight black hair.
She stood to the side, holding a notebook in her arms, a badge pinned to her shoulder. But with so few students around, she hadn’t started her duties yet.
She didn’t notice Su Cheng. Instead, she stared fixedly at the school rooftop, her gaze filled with melancholy and longing.
Like a paused animation, she stood there motionless, silent, simply gazing at the rooftop.
"Ah…"
Su Cheng let out a long sigh as he watched Hoshino Mirai’s lonely, despondent figure, his heart heavy with emotion.
He knew exactly what she was reminiscing about.
The Penguin Prince.
Their last farewell had been far too abrupt. If possible, he wished he could transform into the penguin one last time and properly say goodbye.
He pushed his bike past her without stopping. After parking it, he headed toward the school building. As he turned a corner, he spotted a familiar pair of siblings standing at the entrance. With no other students around, they had started talking, their voices low but clear enough for Su Cheng to overhear.
He quickly ducked behind a tree.
"Brother… have I really not been happy at all this whole time?"
Hoshino Mirai hung her head, staring at her notebook, her voice hoarse with a mix of sorrow and frustration.
The demon had once told her that if she lived happily and contentedly, the Penguin Prince would sense it—and perhaps, just perhaps, return.
"Ah… well…"
Hoshino Yikui stammered.
He knew exactly what his sister was referring to. Lately, Mirai had indeed seemed happy—she’d gone out on weekends, and after her speech, her classmates had come to understand her better. She’d even made more friends.
But…
The Penguin Prince never reappeared.
Not even the demon showed up again. It was as if their entire encounter had been nothing but a fleeting dream.
When her brother didn’t answer, Mirai’s head drooped further, her voice muffled. "I guess I really haven’t been happy, then."
"Of course you have! I’ve seen you smiling genuinely these past few days!"
Hoshino Yikui hurried to reassure his sister, adding, "Maybe it’s already come back but didn’t want to disturb you because you were happy. Don’t forget—the Penguin Prince made a contract with you. It’ll definitely return soon."
His words were meant to comfort her, and that was exactly what she needed—this weight in her heart was unbearable.
Still, Hoshino Mirai looked doubtful. "Really?"
"Mm-hmm."
Hoshino Yikui nodded solemnly before continuing, "Who knows? Maybe it's watching you right now from some hidden spot. You should perk up, or it might not show itself if it sees you like this."
Though his words were clearly meant to comfort a child, his sister immediately lifted her head upon hearing them, rubbing her cheeks and forcing a small smile.
"Right, right. You make sense, Brother."
"See?!"
Hoshino Yikui let out a relieved sigh, his expression softening. But the next moment, his sister suddenly asked, "Brother... where do you think it’s hiding to watch us?"
"Well..."
The question caught him off guard, but he quickly recovered, casually pointing at a nearby tree. "See that tree? From that angle, it’s perfect for eavesdropping and keeping an eye on us."
Su Cheng, who was hiding behind the tree, nearly jumped in surprise and hurriedly concealed himself further. He couldn’t help but think, This Hoshino Yikui really has some sharp instincts.
Somehow, his random guess had hit the mark.
"Come on, Brother, stop teasing me."
"Heh heh... Well, some students are coming. Let’s get back to duty."
"Okay."
Su Cheng exhaled in relief, straightened his clothes, and pretended to casually walk back before reappearing in plain sight of the siblings.
"Su Cheng, you’re here so early today?"
Hoshino Mirai’s eyes lit up with pleasant surprise the moment she saw him.
To her, Su Cheng carried a special significance, so she always paid extra attention to this underclassman.
"Yeah, woke up early today."
Su Cheng nodded and stepped closer to them.
"Didn’t expect you to be so skilled at Go, either—beating the vice president of the Go Club is no small feat," Hoshino Yikui remarked with a grin.
"No, no, I’m no match for the vice president," Su Cheng humbly shook his head, explaining earnestly. "She wasn’t feeling well that day, so I barely scraped by. Otherwise, I’d have lost for sure. Besides, it was technically a draw."
"Don’t be so modest. If it were me, I wouldn’t even have the courage to face her in a match."
Hoshino Yikui chuckled, his eyes filled with admiration. To him, Su Cheng’s words were pure humility.
"Haha..."
Su Cheng could only offer a polite laugh before nodding at Hoshino Mirai and heading into the school building.
Unbeknownst to the three of them, a pair of beautiful eyes had been fixed on Su Cheng from behind the very tree he had just hidden behind.
Ling Ning clutched an unopened folding fan, her hands pressed against the tree trunk, her cheeks slightly flushed, her lips lightly bitten. She watched Su Cheng’s retreating figure, her black-stocking-clad leg trembling faintly.
Ever since the Go incident, she had felt unlike herself. Just hearing his name made her heart flutter inexplicably, stirring up strange emotions.
And seeing him? That was even worse. Her body would grow weak, as if all her strength had drained away.
The peculiar sensation in her chest only grew stronger with each encounter.
Thankfully, her body had a subtle self-preservation mechanism—whenever she ran into him, she instinctively fled, barely managing to suppress the restless agitation inside.
But after yesterday’s escape, she realized a serious problem: while avoiding Su Cheng kept her away from the "danger," his presence in her mind only loomed larger, growing more intense by the day.
The usually poised and elegant Ling Ning would become restless and feverish around him. It wasn’t an exaggeration to say that if she stayed near him too long, she might lose all sense of reason, acting purely on instinct.
She knew exactly what kind of "game" her body wanted to play with Su Cheng—which was why she couldn’t help but run every time she saw him.
"What should I do...?"
Ling Ning stared at the retreating figure of the walking "potion," her brows furrowed with anxiety. She lightly tapped her forehead with the fan, trying to clear her mind.
She knew full well how dangerous this state was—yet it wasn’t something she could confide in a doctor about.
She had even considered transferring schools, but she couldn’t bear to leave behind the friendships she had here.
"Ling Ning."
A voice called out to her.
She immediately composed herself, standing straight and resuming her usual graceful demeanor. With a crisp snap, she opened her fan, adding an air of refinement before turning slowly toward the source of the voice.
A female classmate stood beside her, dressed in the school’s uniform, wearing earpieces, and looking at her curiously.
It was someone from her class.
"What is it?" Ling Ning asked coolly.
"What were you secretly looking at just now?"
The girl blinked her large eyes inquisitively.
"Nothing. Just a cicada on the tree. I was observing it for a bit."
Ling Ning closed the folding fan in her other hand, then lowered her head slightly to conceal the flicker of unease in her eyes, forcing a casual tone as she said, "Alright, I’m heading back to the classroom first."
"Classmate Ling, wait for me!"
A female classmate hurried after her, catching up before curiously asking, "Vice President, when are you and Su Cheng going to play another match? I just saw him in the parking lot. It’s still early—why not go find him in his classroom?"
At the mention of Su Cheng’s name, Ling Ning’s footsteps halted abruptly. Her cheeks flushed faintly, and her breathing grew slightly uneven.
"Lately, everyone keeps saying Su Cheng beat you in chess."
The girl, oblivious to Ling Ning’s odd reaction, continued indignantly, "It was a draw, but everyone acts like you lost. I think you should win against him once to prove them wrong."
Her tone was fervent, entirely missing Ling Ning’s strange demeanor as she pressed on, "Should I go grab the board from the Go club for you?"
"No need. This is between him and me. Don’t interfere."
Ling Ning’s voice was low, and without another word, she quickened her pace into the school building, never looking back.
Unbeknownst to her, three boys passing by had overheard the entire exchange.
………………
"Morning."
As soon as Su Cheng entered the classroom, he spotted Li Guanqi reading in the corner—the same book, no less: The Basic Laws of Protagonists.
With only the two of them present, he greeted her warmly.
Li Guanqi glanced up, nodded, then returned to her book, flipping a page before murmuring, "You’re early today."
"By the way, is there a Basic Laws of Heroines?"
Su Cheng leaned in with a grin, partly to soak in his daily dose of "Guanqi energy."
"Hmm…"
Li Guanqi pondered for a moment before shaking her head. "Doesn’t seem like it."
Su Cheng slumped in exaggerated disappointment. "If there were, we could each have a copy—a matching set, you know? Then we could take a photo together. Wouldn’t that be perfect?"
Just then, noise erupted from the doorway.
Su Cheng straightened and headed to his seat, but Li Guanqi watched his retreating figure, her brow furrowing in thought as if grappling with some unspoken question.
"Su Cheng!"
"You’re here this early?"
"Did you eat breakfast?"
Wang Guancong and his two friends, Gao Ye and Chai Hao, swarmed him the moment they spotted him.
"Already ate," Su Cheng replied with a smile.
"By the way, we just ran into the Go club’s vice president," Gao Ye added, recounting the earlier scene.
"Yeah, her whole class seems salty about you."
"When are you gonna face her properly? Beat her fair and square so they shut up?"
Wang Guancong and Chai Hao looked eager, but in the corner, Li Guanqi’s frown deepened. Her gaze sharpened on Su Cheng, as if piecing something together.
At the mention of the Go club’s vice president, Su Cheng froze—then, like a bolt of clarity, an idea struck him.
Before, he’d avoided Ling Ning to steer clear of trouble, and guilt had held him back. But now, with his impending disappearance looming, why not try?
She might just be his "A-rank" opportunity.
The A-rank reward didn’t have to come from Liu Qingyue. Given Ling Ning’s strange behavior around him, he could use this chance to secure it.
"Alright, I’ve decided!"
Su Cheng’s eyes gleamed with resolve.
"You’re challenging her?"
"When?"
Wang Guancong and the others leaned in, buzzing with excitement.
Li Guanqi’s gaze grew more inscrutable, but by the time Su Cheng turned around, she’d already averted her eyes, feigning interest in her textbook.
…………………………
All morning, Su Cheng racked his brain for a way to extract that A-rank reward from Ling Ning. Getting her to confess sincerely would be no small feat.
Just as he was deep in thought, his phone buzzed. A message.
Ah. From President Ji.
He’d skipped Go practice at the dojo yesterday, and she wasn’t happy.
Ji Qingyi: "Lunch is prepared. Do not be absent."
Su Cheng sighed. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to go—he just had other priorities.
But with the president personally reaching out, skipping would be rude.
He glanced toward the corner, where Li Guanqi was now surrounded by Xuan Ying and her friend. The three seemed headed to lunch, which eased his mind.
If Li Guanqi had invited him to the lawn again, he’d have been torn. Thankfully, she was occupied.
After sending a message to Ji Qingyi, Su Cheng tidied up a bit and headed toward the archery club.
…………
The most breathtaking views in the world always make people linger, just like Ji Qingyi at this moment.
She sat in her seat, sipping tea while admiring the scenery outside, her posture graceful and elegant.
A breeze swept by, lifting a few strands of her hair and scattering them across her forehead—so mesmerizing it was almost blinding.
She raised her teacup, took a delicate sip of the fragrant brew, then closed her eyes in satisfaction. As if sensing Su Cheng’s arrival, she extended a slender hand, gesturing for Su Cheng to sit beside her.
"President."
Su Cheng greeted her before taking a seat next to her.
A table separated the two, adorned with a tea set.
At this moment, Ji Qingyi slowly opened her eyes—those cool, distant orbs—and cast a light glance. "Rest for a while."
"Okay."
Su Cheng complied, closing her eyes and quietly absorbing the soothing fragrance beside her, letting her mind settle.
"Do you have something to deal with?"
Ji Qingyi suddenly asked.
"Huh?"
Su Cheng opened her eyes in surprise. "How did you know I was troubled?"
"Your expression betrayed you. Just now, when I told you to rest, your gaze held hesitation and uncertainty."
Ji Qingyi spoke plainly.
"Ah…"
Su Cheng sighed softly before admitting, "Yes, there’s something I’m struggling with."
Ji Qingyi listened but offered no comment, merely tilting her head slightly to gaze out the window.
She seemed to be waiting for Su Cheng to continue.
But Su Cheng stayed silent, which visibly irritated her. She turned back, fixing Su Cheng with a deep, penetrating stare.
"So why did you bring her back?"
Ji Qingyi demanded in a low voice.
Su Cheng stiffened, startled that the president already knew about Liu Qingyue’s return. Then again, it made sense—Liu Qingyue would naturally report to her superior.
"Yes, I needed her help with something."
"Speak. What prop do you want?"
Ji Qingyi’s sudden question sent a shiver down Su Cheng’s spine. As expected, nothing could be hidden from these people—they always saw right through her.
"I… I want to turn into a penguin!"