My Strange Tale Love Strategy Simulator

jingle--

A soft tinkling of wind chimes drifted from the vocal room.

Zhang Ying's vision blurred for a moment.

The whole world was transformed in the blink of an eye.

The dark vocal room seemed to have its curtains suddenly ripped open from the outside, letting in pale golden morning light that illuminated the wooden floor, which gleamed with a newly polished wax sheen.

The vocal studio was transformed into a dance studio, with mirrored walls reflecting the swaying shadows of trees outside the window. The surroundings seemed veiled in a thin gauze, blurry and unreal.

Birdsong drifted from the sycamore trees outside the teaching building, crisp and short. A class was reciting ancient poems in unison, the sound carrying into the corridor, where the homeroom teacher was loudly reprimanding late students.

Everything was buzzing, like it was nine o'clock in the morning at summer school.

Zhang Ying stood still. He glanced down at himself; his black clothes were gone, replaced by his school uniform. He slowly turned around and looked out the window. People were running laps on the playground, the whistles alternating between short and long.

The sunlight made him feel somewhat dazed, and for a moment he couldn't tell whether he was standing in reality or had fallen into a dream. Just as he stood there, stunned, a voice whispered in his ear.

"Didn't you come to see me? Why are you still standing here?"

Zhang Ying turned his head in the direction of the voice.

A girl in a white dress stood beside him, so close that he could smell the tart scent of oranges in her hair. Her long, black hair fell smoothly over her shoulders, with a few stray strands clinging to her snow-white neck.

Her lips were slightly curved, a gentle and quiet smile.

Like a beam of moonlight, it is not dazzling, nor is it warm, but when it shines into people's eyes, their hearts tighten on their own.

Zhang Ying's heart skipped a beat. He could feel a thin layer of heat rising on his cheeks, but he didn't look away.

"...Li Ziqing?"

"Hmm." She tilted her head slightly. "Come on, let's go for a walk together."

"But isn't it class time now?" Zhang Ying blurted out instinctively.

The light in Li Ziqing's eyes dimmed by half an inch, just half an inch, but her lips were still curved in a smile, and her tone was as if she didn't care at all: "Okay, then let's go after class."

That half-inch of dimness felt like a needle pricking Zhang Ying's heart, and his mind suddenly went into overdrive.

Is attending class more important than her?

She waited all these years, but it wasn't the school bell that rang.

He reached out and took Li Ziqing's hand, his fingers closing around her slightly cool fingertips, a smile playing on his lips.

"It's just class. If you want to go out for a walk—"

He started walking, pulling her towards the stairwell. Li Ziqing followed, her skirt brushing against his arm. She laughed behind him, a soft laugh like a flock of doves flying past the window.

"—Then let's go out for a walk together."

As the two walked down the stairs, before they even turned the corner, a short, sharp rebuke echoed down the corridor.

"Which class are you two in? It's class time, why are you still wandering around outside!"

Zhang Ying stopped, not looking down the corridor, but turning to look at Li Ziqing behind him. His hand was still holding hers, he hadn't let go.

Do you think we should stop?

Li Ziqing's eyes flickered. Her lips moved, then she shook her head.

"I don't want to stop."

"Alright, let's go!"

Zhang Ying gripped her hand tightly, turned, and strode downstairs. The shout from the corridor chased after him again, but he ignored it.

Footsteps thumped on the stairs, followed closely by Li Ziqing's footsteps. The hem of her skirt brushed against his arm, cool as a breeze squeezed in from outside the door.

Pushing open the doors of the teaching building, sunlight streamed down, blinding them. The running track on the playground was bathed in its glare, and the air was thick with the dry smell of dust. It wasn't until Zhang Ying led Li Ziqing across the playground that he truly noticed how cold her hands were.

Li Ziqing's hands had delicate bones but soft knuckles, making them feel like a piece of jade just pulled from a well.

He subconsciously adjusted the pressure of his fingers; not too loose, or she would slip out; not too tight, or he would hurt her. He held on like that, repeatedly checking out of the corner of his eye to make sure he was holding her correctly the whole way.

At the school gate, security guards were already standing. Two middle-aged men stood side by side in front of the iron gate, arms crossed, their faces like a wall.

"You two—which class are you in? Get back to the classroom right now!"

Zhang Ying didn't slow down. Their steps were halted at the school gate. The security guard took a step forward, raising his voice by half a tone: "Didn't you hear me! Go back!"

This time, Zhang Ying didn't turn around to ask Li Ziqing. He slumped his shoulders, used his body to push aside the unguarded gap between the two security guards, and pulled Li Ziqing out of the school gate.

The shouts behind him were swept away by the iron gate.

The surrounding scenery began to change the moment I rushed out of the school gate. The sun suddenly became dazzling, the sky was so white it was burning hot, and the cement road under my feet had turned into mud at some point, soft to the touch and carrying a fishy smell.

The river flowed past us; it was very narrow, with duckweed crowding the banks, and rice seedlings planted in the fields, stretching crookedly into the distance.

Li Ziqing was wearing a straw hat, the brim pulled low, revealing only his chin and a small part of his curved mouth.

Zhang Ying looked down at himself. His school uniform was gone, and he was only wearing a faded vest. His exposed arms were as dark as if they had been tanned by the sun all summer.

The two walked slowly hand in hand along the river path. The air around them was dry and hot, and countless cicadas were hiding in the grass, their calls rising in waves.

He wanted to say something, rubbed his fingers on his pants, a few words stuck in his throat, his mouth opened and closed, but he didn't say anything. Li Ziqing walked beside him, his lips under his straw hat moved, but he didn't speak either.

The air grew heavy. Not the kind of heaviness you get when it's about to rain, but the kind where you have too many words stuck in your throat, and the opening isn't big enough to squeeze out a single one.

Zhang Ying took a deep breath. Then, slowly, he hummed a tune from his throat. He wasn't a very good singer; the melody that popped into his head was "The Little Insects Fly," a song he had heard as a child. He didn't quite remember the lyrics, so he could only hum it from memory.

He hummed a few lines and then went back to the same tune, the melody swirling in his ears, but he couldn't hum the next verse.

"The dark sky hangs low, accompanied by bright stars; insects fly, insects fly, who are you thinking of..."

Just as he was about to grit his teeth and hum it again, Li Ziqing added the second half of the sentence.

The stars in the sky weep, the roses on the ground wither. The cold wind blows, the cold wind blows, but as long as you're with me.

When she sang this part, her voice was still very soft, as if she were humming to herself. Then she squeezed Zhang Ying's fingers and raised the pitch a little.

Zhang Ying turned his head to look at her. The wind on the river blew the stray hairs from the edge of her straw hat, and the sunlight shone on her profile, turning her eyelashes a pale gold.

She's still singing.

"Insects fly, flowers sleep, only in pairs are they beautiful. Not afraid of the dark, only afraid of a broken heart. Regardless of being tired, regardless of east, west, south, or north."

Zhang Ying saw her smile in the shadow of the straw hat. The smile was like a tear in the clouds, letting in the full weight of moonlight.