Chapter 8: Transfer Student
Jiang Yuxin’s gaze lingered on Yin Xiran, her mind buzzing with the new sensation.
That thin, resilient barrier—unlike Chen Dongyang’s impenetrable void—was something she could break, but chose not to.
Not yet.
She leaned back in her seat, her fingers tapping lightly against her desk, her expression as unreadable as ever.
The classroom hummed with excitement over the twins, but Jiang Yuxin’s focus was razor-sharp, split between Yin Xiran’s knowing glance and Chen Dongyang’s slumped figure in the back.
‘Two anomalies in one day,’ she thought, a faint thrill stirring in her chest. ‘This is no coincidence.’
The morning classes dragged on, but Jiang Yuxin barely noticed.
Her mind was elsewhere, dissecting the encounter with Yin Xiran.
That barrier wasn’t natural.
It was deliberate, controlled, like a shield crafted by someone who knew they were being probed.
‘She felt me,’ Jiang Yuxin thought, her lips curving slightly. ‘And she wanted me to know.’
She glanced at Chen Dongyang, who was scribbling in his notebook, his face still pale from his sleepless night.
He hadn’t noticed the twins’ introduction, too lost in his own world.
‘He’s hiding something,’ she thought, her curiosity about him deepening. ‘But so is she.’
When the lunch bell rang, Chen Dongyang shot up, grabbing his bag with a weary determination.
Jiang Yuxin’s text had arrived during the last class: [Bento from Sakura House. No mushrooms. Iced oolong tea.]
He sighed, already dreading the hit to his wallet.
Sakura House was even pricier than yesterday’s place.
He hurried off campus, weaving through the crowded streets of South River City.
The restaurant was packed, the air thick with the scent of miso and grilled meat.
He placed the order, wincing as he handed over nearly all his remaining cash.
Back at school, he climbed to the rooftop, pushing open the damaged iron door.
Jiang Yuxin was there, sitting on her white towel, her posture as elegant as ever.
She took the bento without a word, inspecting it with her usual precision.
“No mushrooms?” she asked, her tone neutral but expectant.
“None,” he said, setting the iced tea beside her.
She nodded, opening the box and taking a small bite.
Chen Dongyang sat across from her, his lunch a plain rice ball from the convenience store.
She glanced at it, her eyebrow twitching.
“You’re going to starve yourself at this rate,” she said, her voice carrying a hint of mockery.
“I’m fine,” he said, taking a bite. “Not everyone needs a gourmet meal.”
She didn’t respond, but her eyes flicked to his face, noting the dark circles, the faint tremor in his hands.
“You pushed yourself too hard last night,” she said suddenly, her tone sharp. “What were you doing?”
He froze, his rice ball halfway to his mouth.
“Just… couldn’t sleep,” he said, avoiding her gaze. “Thinking about stuff.”
Her eyes narrowed, and he felt that familiar pressure, like cold fingers brushing his mind.
But it passed, leaving nothing behind.
“You’re hiding something,” she said, leaning forward slightly. “And I don’t like being kept in the dark.”
He forced a grin, his heart racing.
“Maybe I’m just bad at sleeping,” he said, hoping to deflect.
She didn’t smile, but her gaze softened, just a fraction.
“Keep your secrets,” she said, returning to her food. “For now.”
As they ate, Jiang Yuxin’s mind wandered to Yin Xiran.
That barrier intrigued her, a challenge she hadn’t expected.
She’d always thought she was the only anomaly, the sole exception in a predictable world.
But now, Chen Dongyang’s immunity and Yin Xiran’s shield suggested otherwise.
‘There are others,’ she thought, her chopsticks pausing. ‘And they’re here, in this school.’
She glanced at Chen Dongyang, who was eating quietly, his exhaustion evident.
He was part of this, whether he knew it or not.
And she’d find out how.
After lunch, Jiang Yuxin lingered on the rooftop, watching Chen Dongyang leave.
She stood, brushing off her uniform, and headed back to the classroom.
As she passed the hallway, she spotted Yin Qingle and Yin Xiran near the lockers, surrounded by curious classmates.
Yin Qingle smiled shyly, answering questions with soft, hesitant words.
Yin Xiran, though, stood tall, her confidence unshaken, her eyes scanning the crowd.
When those eyes met Jiang Yuxin’s, they lingered, a silent challenge passing between them.
Jiang Yuxin didn’t flinch, her expression calm but her mind racing.
‘She knows something,’ she thought. ‘And she’s not afraid of me.’
Yin Xiran’s lips curved into a small, knowing smile before she turned back to the crowd.
Jiang Yuxin continued to her seat, her heart beating faster than usual.
That afternoon, during a break, Jiang Yuxin approached Chen Dongyang’s desk.
He looked up, startled, his pen slipping from his hand.
“Relax,” she said, her voice low. “I’m not here to interrogate you.”
He nodded, wary but curious.
“Then… what do you want?”
She leaned closer, her voice barely a whisper.
“Those new girls,” she said. “What do you know about them?”
He blinked, caught off guard.
“The twins? Nothing. I didn’t even notice them come in.”
She studied him, searching for a lie.
But his confusion seemed genuine.
“Pay attention,” she said, straightening. “They’re… interesting.”
He frowned, his exhaustion giving way to curiosity.
“Interesting how?”
She didn’t answer, turning back to her seat.
“Just watch them,” she said over her shoulder. “And tell me if you feel any… premonitions.”
That night, Jiang Yuxin sat in her room, the city’s lights casting long shadows across her walls.
Her notebook was open, a single name written in her precise handwriting: Yin Xiran.
Below it, a question: What is her power?
She tapped her pen, her mind racing.
Chen Dongyang was a puzzle, but Yin Xiran was a new piece—one that didn’t fit yet.
And for the first time, Jiang Yuxin felt like the game she’d always controlled was shifting.
She wasn’t just the player anymore.
She was part of something bigger.
And it thrilled her.