Lian Yue didn't cry that night.
She lay awake, staring at the ceiling, his words circling her mind like smoke she couldn't escape—"Because you feel things you shouldn't."
She had tried so hard. Every grade she skipped, every hour she spent catching up, every time she smiled and waited for him to notice—none of it had been enough. He still saw her as a child. A sister.
By morning, the ache in her chest hadn't gone away, but something inside her had settled.
Resolve.
At school, Lian Yue didn't wait at the gate like before. She walked alone, head high, her expression calm. Their classrooms were in different buildings, and she didn't go out of her way to find him anymore. The distance between them—once a narrow step—now stretched wider each day.
She answered her teachers' questions with ease, laughed when her friends teased her, and moved through the halls with graceful detachment. It was as if nothing had changed. But inside, she knew everything had.
Shen Tinglan noticed.
That morning, he paused at the gate, expecting to see her waiting. She wasn't there. During lunch, he passed the courtyard where she used to sit with her carefully prepared bento box. Empty. At home, she no longer appeared in his study, no longer followed him down the hall.
He didn't ask why. He simply told himself: She's growing up. It's good she's becoming independent.
But for some reason, that thought felt hollow.
In the school library, Song Yan found Lian Yue alone, seated by a window, the sunlight casting shadows across the pages of her book.
"You're hiding," he said, dropping into the seat across from her.
She didn't look up. "I'm reading."
"You used to follow him around like a puppy," Song Yan said casually. "Now you won't even look at him."
She smiled faintly. "Maybe I grew up."
Song Yan leaned back, studying her. "You think this will make him notice you?"
She closed the book. "No. This is for me."
He didn't push her, just nodded slowly. "He doesn't know what he's doing, Yue'er."
"Maybe." Her voice was soft. "But I do."
That evening, she returned to the Shen estate later than usual. Liu Yuyan welcomed her warmly, fussing over her like always.
"You're so pale," Liu Yuyan said. "Don't study too hard, alright?"
"I'm fine, Aunt Liu," Lian Yue replied with a smile. "I'm just tired."
Shen Tinglan wasn't home yet. She went straight to her room, opened her books, and tried to focus. The words blurred together. Her thoughts drifted.
By the time she heard his footsteps in the hall, she didn't move. He passed her door without stopping. She stared at the wall, unmoving.
Later that night, at dinner, they sat together for the first time in days. Liu Yuyan chatted cheerfully, oblivious to the tension between them.
Shen Tinglan glanced at Lian Yue once, briefly. She smiled at him—polite, distant, like a guest in his home.
He looked away.
After dinner, she didn't follow him to the study. She returned to her room in silence.
Shen Tinglan sat at his desk alone, tapping his pen against an unopened notebook. The house was quiet. Too quiet.
He told himself again: This is good. She needs to have her own life. I've done the right thing.
But somehow, the silence felt heavy.
The next afternoon, Song Yan found him in the school courtyard.
"You've noticed," Song Yan said, no greeting needed.
Shen Tinglan didn't reply.
"She's pulling away," Song Yan continued. "And you're just letting her."
"She's not a child anymore," Shen Tinglan said flatly. "She doesn't need me following her around."
"She never needed you to follow her," Song Yan said. "She just wanted you to see her."
Silence.
"You always called her your sister," Song Yan said, his voice quieter now. "But tell me—when she's gone, will that be enough?"
Shen Tinglan didn't answer.
That night, he returned home early. The house was still and dark. In the garden, he found Lian Yue sitting beneath the old tree, the same one she used to hide under as a child.
She looked up when he approached, her face calm, unreadable.
"Tinglan-ge," she said softly, standing.
He nodded, unsure what to say.
"I have a lot to study tonight," she said. "Goodnight."
Without waiting for a reply, she walked past him, her footsteps light on the stone path.
Shen Tinglan stood alone under the tree, staring at the space she had just left.
He told himself again: She's like a sister to me.
But for the first time, he wondered why it hurt to lose her.