Chapter 10: Conversation on the Rooftop
Chen Dongyang sat down, the cold bottle of oolong tea sweating in his hand.
He opened the lunch box Jiang Yuxin had pushed toward him, the boiled fish still steaming slightly, its aroma a stark contrast to his usual bread roll.
He hesitated, glancing at the three girls on the rooftop.
Jiang Yuxin’s expression was unreadable, her gaze fixed on Yin Xiran, who was smirking like she’d just won a round in some unspoken game.
Yin Qingle, meanwhile, looked flustered, her eyes darting between her sister and Jiang Yuxin, as if caught in a conversation she didn’t fully understand.
The tension in the air was palpable, like a taut wire ready to snap.
Chen Dongyang took a bite of the fish, the flavor rich but barely registering.
His mind was elsewhere, replaying the twins’ arrival, Jiang Yuxin’s probing questions, and the strange undercurrent between them.
‘Superpowers,’ he thought, his chopsticks pausing. ‘They were talking about superpowers.’
He didn’t catch the full conversation, but Yin Xiran’s bold admission and Jiang Yuxin’s calm acknowledgment sent a chill down his spine.
He’d suspected Jiang Yuxin had some kind of ability—her control over the dean was proof enough.
But the twins, too?
And what did that mean for him?
Jiang Yuxin sipped her tea, her eyes never leaving Yin Xiran.
The other girl’s frankness was disarming, but Jiang Yuxin wasn’t fooled.
Yin Xiran’s smile was too calculated, her words too precise.
She was playing a game, just like Jiang Yuxin was.
But what was her goal?
“You didn’t come here by chance,” Jiang Yuxin said, her voice low but sharp. “Don’t insult my intelligence.”
Yin Xiran’s smile didn’t falter, but her eyes gleamed with amusement.
“You’re sharp, Jiang,” she said, leaning back. “But you’re wrong about one thing. We didn’t come for you. Or him.” Her gaze flicked to Chen Dongyang, who froze mid-bite.
“Then why?” Jiang Yuxin pressed, her tone cold but curious.
Yin Xiran shrugged, picking at her lunch.
“Let’s just say… we’re curious,” she said. “This school has a certain… reputation.”
“Reputation?” Jiang Yuxin’s eyebrow arched. “For what?”
Yin Xiran’s smile widened, but she didn’t answer.
Instead, she turned to Chen Dongyang, her tone teasing.
“Student Chen, you’re awfully quiet. Not curious about our little chat?”
He swallowed, his throat dry.
“I’m just eating,” he said, his voice steady despite the racing of his heart. “You guys talk about whatever you want.”
Yin Qingle fidgeted, her voice soft.
“Xiran, maybe we should—”
“Relax, Qingle,” Yin Xiran interrupted, her tone light but firm. “We’re just making friends.”
Jiang Yuxin’s lips twitched, a faint smirk forming.
“Friends,” she repeated, the word dripping with skepticism. “We’ll see.”
The lunch break ended, and the four of them returned to the classroom, the air still thick with unspoken questions.
Chen Dongyang lagged behind, his mind a storm of confusion.
Jiang Yuxin’s power, the twins’ abilities, the time loops—it was all connected, but how?
And what did Yin Xiran mean by the school’s “reputation”?
He glanced at Jiang Yuxin, who walked ahead, her posture as composed as ever.
She hadn’t pushed him for answers today, but he knew she wasn’t done.
Her curiosity about him was relentless, and now the twins had added a new layer to the puzzle.
In the afternoon classes, Chen Dongyang struggled to focus.
His head still ached faintly from last night’s experiments, and the twins’ presence behind him felt like a constant pressure.
Yin Qingle was quiet, her soft breathing barely audible, but Yin Xiran’s occasional tapping of her pen felt deliberate, like she was trying to get under his skin.
Jiang Yuxin, meanwhile, was a silent force by the window, her gaze drifting outside but her attention clearly elsewhere.
During a break, Yin Xiran leaned forward, her voice low.
“Student Chen,” she said, her tone playful. “You and Jiang seem… close. Care to share?”
He stiffened, his pen pausing.
“We’re not close,” he said, keeping his voice neutral. “She’s just… intense.”
Yin Xiran laughed softly, the sound almost musical.
“Intense is one way to put it,” she said. “She’s like a storm, isn’t she?”
He didn’t respond, but her words struck a chord.
Jiang Yuxin was a storm—unpredictable, powerful, and impossible to ignore.
After school, Chen Dongyang lingered in the classroom, hoping to avoid another rooftop encounter.
But as he packed his bag, Jiang Yuxin appeared at his desk, her presence commanding.
“Tomorrow,” she said, her voice low. “Lunch. Same place. Don’t disappoint me.”
He nodded, too tired to argue.
“And Chen Dongyang,” she added, her eyes narrowing. “Keep an eye on those twins. Especially Yin Xiran.”
He frowned, confused.
“Why?”
She didn’t answer, turning away with a faint smile.
“Just do it,” she said over her shoulder.
*
That night, Chen Dongyang sat at his desk, the digital clock ticking relentlessly.
22:30.
He stared at the ballpoint pen, his heart pounding.
He’d rewound time before—five seconds, at a brutal cost.
Could he do it again?
Could he push further, maybe find answers about the loops, the twins, or Jiang Yuxin?
He closed his eyes, focusing on the memory of the loops—her falling figure, the world collapsing.
The pain came faster this time, a sharp stab in his skull.
He gritted his teeth, pushing harder.
The room spun, his vision blurring.
“Come on,” he whispered, his voice strained.
A flash—Jiang Yuxin’s face, Yin Xiran’s smile, a fleeting image of the rooftop.
Then, agony.
He gasped, collapsing onto his desk, sweat dripping onto his notebook.
The clock read: 22:29:55.
Five seconds.
He’d done it again, but the pain was worse, like his brain was fraying at the edges.
He clutched his head, his breathing ragged.
‘This is going to kill me,’ he thought, fear creeping in.
But he couldn’t stop.
Not now.
Not when the answers were so close.
He thought of Jiang Yuxin’s piercing gaze, Yin Xiran’s knowing smile, and the loops that had trapped him.
They were all connected.
And he’d find out how, even if it broke him.