Professor Liu's voice faded into the background as I began flipping through the course module on my tablet. I could sense her beside me—Li Wei—her hand moving with controlled precision as she jotted down notes.
She didn't acknowledge me.
Not that I expected her to.
But it was... fascinating. The silence she wielded like armor. There was something about her that felt calculated—not in a manipulative way. In a sharpened, survival sort of way.
Then Professor Liu called on her.
A complex scenario. Market strategy across competitive global economies. She answered flawlessly—clear, structured, confident. Like she knew he'd ask her, like she had rehearsed it all in her head before he even opened his mouth.
The room waited for the professor's nod. It came, as expected.
Then he turned to me. "Zhang Rui, do you have anything to add?"
I saw the flicker in her eyes. Just a flicker.
Challenge accepted.
"Actually," I said, "I'd like to offer a counterpoint."
Her pen paused.
I laid it out—brief but layered. A different angle. One that didn't disprove hers, just… expanded it. Refined it. Acknowledged her brilliance, but stood apart from it.
The professor seemed pleased. "Very insightful."
I didn't look at her immediately. I waited a beat.
Then I did.
She was still. Perfectly composed. But I could feel the tension in her silence.
That was the moment I knew:
This semester wasn't going to be quiet.
And for the first time in a long while, I felt… awake.
Class ended with a subtle shift in the air—like something had cracked open, quietly. I shut my tablet, stood up, and could feel the room behind me rearranging its attention.
Whispers sparked like static.
"That's the new guy?" "Did you hear how he challenged Li Wei?" "First day and he's already—damn." "Lowkey hot, too."
I didn't react. No point feeding the fire.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her—Li Wei—already packing up, every movement smooth, fast, intentional. The pen clipped with a snap. The tablet slid precisely into its case. Not a single glance my way.
But the tension in her jaw said enough.
She wasn't rattled. She was regrouping.
She walked past me without a word, her perfume faint and cool, like jasmine and winter air. A few students made way for her like they always did. The queen passing through her court.
And for the first time, it occurred to me— This wasn't just academic.
This was personal.
She didn't know me yet. But she would.
And maybe… I'd enjoy watching that happen.
The café near campus buzzed with late afternoon chatter and clinking cups, but at our table, Jian Hao was doing all the talking.
"Bro, you're telling me she didn't even blink when you introduced yourself?" he asked, stirring his iced coffee like it had offended him.
I leaned back in the chair, sipping mine. "Not even a flinch. Just a stare like I'd stepped on her nerves."
Jian Hao smirked. "Li Wei doesn't flinch. She calculates."
"She definitely didn't expect me," I admitted. "But she covered it well."
He leaned in. "You shook her though. I bet you anything she went straight to check the ranking board after class."
I didn't say anything, but the ghost of a smile tugged at my lips.
She had.
I saw it.
"She's intense," I said finally. "Not in a bad way. Just... sharp. Everything's measured. Controlled. Like she's used to building walls before anyone gets close."
"Sounds familiar," Jian Hao said pointedly.
I rolled my eyes.
"She's competitive," I continued. "But not for the sake of being the best. It's like... it's her armor."
Jian Hao studied me. "You're analyzing her like she's a business case."
"I'm trying to understand what I'm dealing with," I replied.
"Is that what this is?" he teased. "A strategy meeting about the girl you definitely don't care about?"
I groaned. "Don't start."
"Too late. You're already intrigued."
I didn't deny it.
Because despite the rivalry and the cold silence, there was something magnetic about her.
And that unsettled me more than I wanted to admit.
Jian Hao was still watching me like he'd cracked a code I didn't know I was handing him.
"You know what I think?" he said, finally abandoning his coffee. "You didn't come back here just for some business credits or campus prestige. You came back to prove something."
I raised an eyebrow. "To who?"
"To yourself," he said simply.
I didn't respond at first. Not because he was wrong—but because he was too right.
"I just…" I stared out the window. Shanghai's skyline shimmered with a strange kind of nostalgia. "I've spent most of my life in Australia. Comfortable. Familiar. But it always felt like I was playing someone else's game. My family's name. My school's reputation. My scores. I needed… my own arena."
Jian Hao nodded, quieter now. "And you chose to walk into the lion's den."
I gave a small smile. "Seems like the lion has sharp claws and a temper."
"Li Wei?" He chuckled. "She's got a legacy of her own. Not easy to shake someone like her."
"She doesn't scare me."
"She shouldn't. But don't underestimate her either. That girl—she's had to build herself brick by brick. Not because she wanted to. Because she had to."
That made me pause.
I hadn't thought of it like that. I'd been so caught up in the challenge she posed that I hadn't truly seen the weight she carried.
Jian Hao leaned back. "Do you remember when you were a kid? That party at the old riverside estate—your dad's business partner's house?"
I blinked. The memory was distant, hazy.
"There was a girl there," Jian Hao went on. "She had two braids, scraped knees, and refused to let you win at anything."
A vague image surfaced—me, younger, barefoot in a garden. A girl shoving a lemonade at me like it was a challenge. "You think that was her?"
He shrugged. "Could be. Families like yours and hers—Shanghai royalty, practically. It wouldn't be surprising."
I shook my head, the thought leaving a strange chill in my chest.
If it was her… she didn't remember either. Or maybe she did, and chose not to.
"I'm not here to play games from the past," I said, more to myself than him.
"No," Jian Hao agreed. "You're here to write your own story."
I met his eyes. "And if she's part of that story?"
"Then," he grinned, "it's going to be one hell of a plot twist."
The city blurred into shades of twilight by the time I reached my apartment.
The door clicked shut behind me with a soft thud.
I dropped my backpack on the chair, loosened my collar, and let the silence settle. It was one of the few things I liked about this temporary apartment–quiet, clean, and far removed from the noise of the campus.
First things first–shower.I stepped out fifteen minutes later, warm skin and clearer thoughts, hair still wet.
I head into the kitchen. Dinner was light–mapo tofu,spicy and familiar. It reminded me of home in a way few things did.
Afterward, I pulled out the –half finished canvas by the window. The Shanghai skyline–lit in a blues and silvers, with shadows stretching long over the river. I added a few strokes here and there, letting the city take shape again under brush.
Then my phone buzzed.I glanced at the screen.
Mom.
"Don't forget–this Saturday evening, dinner at the Li's place.Mr. Li and your father used to be business partners. Be on time."
I wiped my hands with a cloth and picked up the phone.
The Li's?
I frowned.
Didn't ring any bells immediately. I had vague memories of my parent's business friends in Shanghai, but it was a blur of the polite smiles and formal dinners.
I typed a reply: "Got it."
A moment later, she followed up.
"Mrs.Li was so excited when she heard you were back in Shanghai. You and their daughter used to play together all the time when you were kids."
I Froze.
Wait.
Their daughter?
No way.
No–I sat down straighter on the couch, heart ticking a little faster.
There's no way that Li could be this Li Wei.
Could it?
I pulled up the conversation with Jian Hao from earlier that day.
That story about the riverside estate. The girl with the braids.
Could it be her?
I stared at the message again.
Dinner with the Li's.
With her parents.
My rival's parents.
I ran a hand through my hair, half in disbelief, half in silent amusement.
This was going to be interesting.