Chapter 1 — The First Whisper
The classroom was quiet except for the scratch of pencil on paper.
Afternoon sunlight spilled across the wooden floor, warm and gold, filtering through tall windows with panes dusted by spring wind. Lin Qian sat near the back, her long black hair falling over her shoulder as she bent over her sketchbook.
She wasn't drawing anything in particular—just lines, soft and unsure, like a thought not yet fully spoken.
Outside the window, a figure passed.
Her pencil stopped.
A boy, tall, in the same school uniform as hers, walked slowly along the courtyard path. He didn't look toward the window, but something about his quiet presence—unrushed, unbothered—caught her attention. For a second, the sound of the world faded. Just the sky, the sea breeze, and that boy.
She didn't know him.
But the moment lingered.
Later that evening, she found herself flipping back to that blank page. And without meaning to, her hand moved—a rough outline of a silhouette, tall and distant, his back half-turned.
She paused, staring at the image.
That was the first whisper.
And neither of them had spoken a word.