Chapter 62 – When the Bell Rings Again

The summer was over, not with a storm, but with a whisper. As Lin Keqing stood by her window that morning, the breeze that passed through was cooler than yesterday, as if brushing away the memories of waves and Ferris wheels. Today, a new chapter began. The first day of Grade 12.

She got dressed quietly, her uniform crisp and freshly ironed. Downstairs, her grandmother had prepared congee and a boiled egg. As Keqing ate, her grandmother smiled.

"Last year of high school already. Time flies."

Keqing nodded. "It really does."

On the way to school, the bus was filled with the low hum of conversation—students exchanging stories from their summer holidays. Keqing stood near the door, her mind drifting. As the bus slowed at a stop, she looked up—and saw Gu Yuyan.

He was waiting at the next stop across the street, his bag slung over one shoulder, hair slightly ruffled by the wind. They made eye contact briefly. He nodded. She returned the nod, lips curving slightly. No words exchanged, yet something warm passed between them.

The school grounds were busy, yet familiar. New timetables were posted, classroom assignments re-shuffled. Students wandered, searching for their names.

Keqing found hers: Grade 12 – Social Science stream. Room 12A3.

Across the hall, Gu Yuyan's name appeared under the Natural Science stream. Room 12B2.

Different floors. Different teachers. Different paths.

But the same sky.

In her new classroom, Keqing sat by the window again. A few classmates from last year remained, but many were new. Conversations buzzed around her. The teacher entered and launched immediately into expectations:

"This is your final year. There will be no room for hesitation. Your future depends on how seriously you take the present."

Outside, the sky was pale blue, cloudless.

The first break of the day was short. Keqing stepped into the hallway and headed to the library. She spotted Gu Yuyan standing near a vending machine. He had just purchased a drink and was turning away when he noticed her. Their steps slowed. They stopped, a few feet apart.

"You survived the new seating chart?" he asked.

"Barely. You?"

"My class is next to the physics lab. No windows. It's like a dungeon."

She smiled. "Good luck escaping."

He handed her a small chocolate bar. "They were on sale."

She took it. "Thanks."

No dramatic scenes. Just a quiet reassurance that their connection, despite physical separation, still existed.

Classes resumed. New subjects, new materials. In English class, Keqing felt the pressure most. Her classmates read passages fluently while she stumbled over pronunciation. The teacher noticed but didn't comment.

During lunch break, she sat alone on a bench under the ginkgo tree. She opened her notebook to practice vocabulary but found herself doodling instead. Her thoughts kept circling back to the pressure, the pace, and the unspoken expectations.

Suddenly, a carton of milk appeared in front of her.

She looked up. Gu Yuyan stood there, holding it out casually.

"Ginkgo trees are supposed to bring clarity," he said. "Or so they say."

She took the milk, a soft laugh escaping her lips. "You're becoming quite philosophical."

He shrugged. "Maybe it's the grade-twelve syndrome."

After school, she stayed behind to revise alone. When she finally left, the sun was setting.

Near the school gate, she found Gu Yuyan waiting.

"You're late."

"I stayed to review."

He nodded. "You'll catch up. You always do."

They walked in silence for a few moments before she asked, "How's your class?"

"Competitive. We had a surprise quiz already. I came second."

She looked up. "You're annoyed."

"A little," he admitted. "But it's good pressure."

She smiled. "You sound like a proper senior now."

He glanced sideways at her. "You've changed too."

They paused as the crosswalk light turned red. Keqing tilted her head. "How?"

"You don't look like you're running away anymore."

She didn't answer right away. When the light changed, they crossed together.

In another part of the school, Le Yahan was sitting in the study hall with Chen Yuke. They were surrounded by papers, working on a group assignment for a joint extracurricular project. Although they were in different academic streams—she in Natural Science, he in Social Science—they still found ways to collaborate.

"You're focused today," Yahan remarked.

"Trying to be," he said, eyes still on his notes.

"You seem... different lately."

He paused. "I just don't want to fall behind."

"Since when do you care so much about grades?" she teased.

He didn't smile. "Since I realized time isn't waiting."

She blinked, surprised at the seriousness in his voice. Then she nodded.

"You know," she said quietly, "Even if we're not in the same stream, I'm glad we still work together."

He finally looked up. "Me too."

There was a beat of silence. Then Yahan added, half-smiling, "But if you beat me on the next test, I reserve the right to be dramatic."

He chuckled. "Deal."

The bell rang for dismissal. Keqing didn't go home immediately. Instead, she wandered back to the old classroom—11A1. The desks had been rearranged, but the view from the window was the same.

To her surprise, Gu Yuyan was already there, sitting alone in their old spot.

She walked in, sat beside him.

"Strange, isn't it?" she said.

He nodded. "Like time moved but left part of us behind."

They sat for a while, watching the golden light pour across the wooden desks.

"I miss the silence," she said.

"You still have it," he replied. "Just in new forms."

She turned to him. "Even if we're in different classes, different routines…"

"You're still the familiar part of my day," he said before she could finish.

Her breath caught. He didn't look away.

They stayed in the classroom until the corridor lights flickered on. It was quiet, peaceful—two souls sitting side by side in the same room where everything once began.

Outside, the sky began to shift—tinged with evening hues, ushering in another season.

The bell rang again.

But this time, it wasn't the end.

It was just the beginning.