Chapter 68 – The Day of Choices

The sky was unusually clear that Saturday morning, but Lin Keqing's chest felt anything but light. She stared at her reflection in the mirror for what felt like the hundredth time, fingers fumbling with the buttons of her blouse. Every little movement seemed too loud in her quiet room.

Her grandmother's voice floated through the door. "Keqing? Are you ready yet?"

"Almost," she answered, swallowing the lump in her throat. She draped her soft beige cardigan over her shoulders. It felt like armor, though she wasn't sure what kind of battle she was heading into.

Her phone buzzed with a new message. It was from her mother:"I'll meet you at the school gate. Dad said he'll come too."

Keqing paused, staring at the words. Her parents hadn't stood together in the same room for a while, not since the divorce had settled into something quiet and final. They weren't enemies, but the polite space between them had always felt fragile, like the thin porcelain cups her grandmother kept locked in a cabinet.

The school courtyard was alive with movement when she arrived. Parents and students mingled beneath colorful banners that read: "Career Day & Parent Consultation – Class of 12th Grade." Teachers bustled around with pamphlets, their smiles tight from trying too hard.

Her mother was waiting by the gate, wearing a navy blue dress under a beige coat that made her look effortlessly elegant. When she spotted Keqing, her eyes softened.

"Keqing," her mother greeted, pulling her into a gentle hug. "You look lovely."

"Thanks, Mom," Keqing said, returning the embrace.

Before they could walk further, a familiar figure approached. Mr. Lin—her father—stood tall, wearing his usual charcoal-gray suit. He smiled faintly as he reached out to ruffle her hair, something he rarely did.

"You look a little tired," he said. "Studying too late again?"

"I'm fine, Dad. Just… normal school stress."

"School shouldn't make you look like you're marching into war," he teased, but his tone had a warmth that caught her off guard.

Her mother smiled, tilting her head slightly. "She's doing fine. Don't start interrogating her the moment you see her."

Keqing looked between them. They were civil, even friendly—but their words carried a quiet formality, as though every exchange was carefully measured.

Inside the auditorium, the lights dimmed as the principal took the stage. His voice echoed, sharp and deliberate:

"The next 120 days will determine your future. Your efforts now, combined with your families' support, will define your path forward."

Keqing sat between her parents, her fingers laced tightly in her lap. Each time the principal emphasized "family involvement," she felt her mother nod slightly on one side, and her father's arms cross on the other. She was caught between two worlds that had once been one.

Her gaze drifted across the rows of seats, searching for something—or someone—to anchor her thoughts.

There. Gu Yuyan.

He was seated two rows ahead, flanked by his mother and father. His older brother, Gu Yunxiu, sat beside their mother, his relaxed posture starkly contrasting their father's stern presence.

Mrs. Gu smiled softly as she leaned in to say something to Yuyan. Meanwhile, Mr. Gu sat straight-backed, his jaw tight and unyielding, like a man perpetually evaluating the world around him.

As though sensing her gaze, Yuyan turned slightly. Their eyes met for a heartbeat. He gave a small nod—subtle, but enough to say "I'm here too." Keqing answered with a faint smile that was just for him.

When the speech ended, the families were ushered into smaller classrooms for career counseling. Keqing led her parents into Room 3A, where her homeroom teacher was waiting.

"Mr. and Mrs. Lin," the teacher said politely, carefully not mentioning the divorce. "Keqing has been performing well overall. Her essays have depth, and her comprehension is strong. With focused preparation, she could aim for a top university."

Her father's expression softened with pride. "She's always been capable of more. I expect her to keep pushing herself."

Her mother, however, tilted her head slightly, her voice calm but firm. "But is she happy with the subjects she's focusing on? We want her to excel, but not at the cost of her well-being."

The teacher hesitated, glancing at Keqing as if asking for confirmation. Heat crept into Keqing's cheeks.

"I'm… okay," she said quickly. "Really. I want to do well."

Her father nodded approvingly, while her mother gave her a look that said, "We'll talk about this later."

After the counseling session, Keqing slipped out to the courtyard for some air. The cool autumn breeze carried the faint scent of gingko leaves. She leaned against a railing, letting the chatter of parents and students wash over her.

"Hey."

She didn't need to turn to recognize that voice. Gu Yuyan walked up beside her, his hands shoved into his pockets.

"Hi," she said, her voice lighter than she felt. "How's your day going?"

He gave a half-smile, though it didn't reach his eyes. "Dad already asked me three times why I'm not at the top of the rankings. I told him I'm third. He said third is just first place for losers."

Keqing frowned. "That's not fair. You work harder than anyone I know."

"Not hard enough for him," Yuyan said, his gaze fixed on the ground. "I feel like no matter how much I do, I'll always fall short."

Keqing hesitated, then said softly, "For what it's worth… you're already enough. To me."

His head turned, and for a moment, the quiet intensity in his eyes made her chest tighten. "You shouldn't say things like that," he murmured.

"Why not?"

"Because I might believe you," he said, a rare hint of playfulness slipping into his tone.

She blinked, unsure how to respond. Before she could find words, a voice called across the yard.

"Yuyan! We're heading to the next session," Mrs. Gu called, waving at them.

Yuyan glanced back at Keqing. "See you later?"

She nodded. "Always."

Elsewhere on campus, Le Yahan and Chen Yuke had found refuge in the cafeteria, away from the chaos of parents and teachers.

"Your parents didn't show up?" Chen Yuke asked, sipping on a juice box.

"They're busy with work," Yahan said, shrugging. "They trust me to handle these things myself."

"Must be nice," Yuke muttered. "My mom grilled the counselor for fifteen minutes about my future. I think she's planning my life in bullet points."

Yahan tilted her head. "What do you want, though? Forget them for a second."

He paused, considering the question. "…I don't know. Sometimes I think I want to study architecture, but then I wonder if that's just because I like sketching buildings. What if I'm not good enough?"

Yahan smiled faintly. "So what if you're not good enough right now? You'll learn. No one starts perfect."

Yuke raised an eyebrow. "And what about you? You're always so sure of yourself."

She laughed, shaking her head. "You think I'm sure? Half the time, I'm winging it. But… I don't want to live a life that feels like someone else's dream. That's my line in the sand."

He looked at her, surprised by the honesty. "That's… actually inspiring."

"Don't tease me," she warned, but her smile was genuine.

When the event finally ended, Keqing's parents walked her to the gate. The sun was dipping low, painting the sky in streaks of orange and gold.

"Call me if you need anything," her mother said, brushing a strand of hair from Keqing's face.

"And don't overwork yourself," her father added, his tone softer than usual.

Keqing hugged them both, feeling a sudden warmth despite the chill in the air. "I'll be fine. I promise."

From a short distance, she caught Yuyan's gaze as his family prepared to leave. He gave a small wave, and she returned it, a silent exchange of strength neither could fully put into words.

That night, Keqing sat by her window with her journal open. The house was quiet, save for the sound of her grandmother moving about downstairs. She tapped her pen, then began to write:

"Maybe growing up isn't just about making choices—it's about realizing that everyone wants something different for you. Today, I saw how my parents look at me with different visions of the future, and how Yuyan's father looks at him like a test he hasn't passed yet. But somewhere between all those expectations… maybe we get to find who we are."

She looked up, noticing a faint glow from across the street. On his balcony, Gu Yuyan stood with his phone, scrolling. When he looked up and met her gaze, he raised his hand slightly.

Keqing smiled and waved back.

For a moment, it felt like the day's weight melted into that simple gesture. They didn't need words. Not tonight.