The morning was quiet—too quiet without Zhou Rui. Even though her laugh had faded from the hallways, her absence echoed louder each day. Lin Tianxin walked into class, noticing again how Lin Junxi barely looked up from his desk. His silence was becoming heavy. No more teasing, no casual smirks. He rarely even showed up now.
Tianxin had been calling Zhou Rui's number almost every day, but the calls stopped connecting. "Out of service," the robotic voice kept saying. It stung.
She sighed, placing her bag down, then glanced at Jiasheng.
"Let's do something," she said suddenly.
"Something stupid?" he asked, half-smirking.
"Something distracting," she corrected.
They made a small plan. After school, the three of them—Tianxin, Junxi, and Jiasheng—would hang out near the riverside park outside Huali Town, where they used to go during childhood. They hoped it would pull Junxi out of his shell, even just a little.
But when they arrived, something felt strange.
As Tianxin ran closer to the water with excitement, Jiasheng stopped dead in his tracks. His body stiffened, his breath hitched. He didn't move. Tianxin turned back and saw him just staring at the gentle river waves… unmoving, eyes unfocused.
"Jiasheng?" she called softly.
He didn't respond.
Junxi was quiet, watching too—perhaps he already knew.
After a moment, Tianxin walked back and stood next to Jiasheng.
"Don't like rivers?" she joked, nudging his shoulder lightly.
Jiasheng's voice came slow, a tone she rarely heard from him:
"When I was eight… I watched someone disappear in one."
Tianxin blinked, confused.
He kept looking at the water, voice quiet.
"A boy I knew. We were messing around near the edge. He slipped. I didn't know how to swim. I panicked. I… I just screamed and watched. He never came back up."
Tianxin didn't say a word. She only reached out and held his hand.
"I still hear his voice when it rains," Jiasheng said. "Still wonder if I could've done something. That's why I hate deep water."
His grip tightened slightly.
Tianxin didn't tease. For once, her usual dramatic replies were gone. She looked at the water with him, eyes reflecting the same pain.
"You were just a child," she said softly. "But you're here now. You protect people now."
He smiled, faint and sad.
"I don't ever want to stand still again when someone needs help."
Junxi, a few steps behind, glanced at the two and said quietly, "That's why we've got each other."
For a while, they stood by the river—not afraid, not talking much, but together.