The bus was late again.
Yu Zixin stood on the cracked pavement, collar up, hands in his coat pockets, trying to pretend the morning chill didn't bother him. Linhai mornings were like its people — quiet, grey, and slightly impatient.
It was 7:43.
The 7:35 bus was always late.
He glanced at the stop's peeling schedule and sighed. Around him, the same strangers stood in the same spots as always — the old man in the bucket hat, the yawning student with the guitar case, and the office lady with the intense perfume.
Zixin didn't mind the routine. Routine kept him safe.
He'd been an intern at Riverlight Software for five months. Every day he left home at 7:00 a.m., took the same bus, sat at the same desk, coded for nine hours, then went home and fell asleep on the couch while watching cooking shows.
Rinse. Repeat.
It wasn't a bad life.
But it wasn't a life either.
The bus finally wheezed to a stop, coughing out stale air and yesterday's newspaper smell. Zixin stepped in and headed straight for the window seat — second row, right side.
His seat.
Outside, Linhai flowed past like an endless river — glass buildings, noodle stalls, billboards yelling silently. He pulled out his phone and opened his notes app.
Untitled.txt
3 bugs to fix
Review Jiayi's code
Start on dashboard UI
Buy toothpaste
Don't quit
Not yet
He read the last two lines again and closed the app.
At the office, no one noticed him come in — which was exactly how he liked it. His desk was wedged between two team leads who only acknowledged him when something broke.
By 10 a.m., he had already fixed a critical backend issue, responded to six emails, and rewritten someone else's sloppy JavaScript — all without a single word spoken aloud.
By lunch, the floor was nearly empty.
He stayed at his desk and ate a microwave meal while scrolling news.
Then he heard it.
"Hey."
Zixin looked up.
It was her.
Bookstore girl.
He didn't know her name — only that she worked on the 14th floor and read obscure novels at lunch in the courtyard when the weather was nice.
He blinked. She never came to his floor.
"I think you dropped this," she said, holding out a flash drive.
It was his. He must've dropped it near the courtyard yesterday.
"Oh. Thanks," he muttered, taking it.
She hesitated, then asked, "Is it true you're the one who fixed the cloud crash last month?"
He nodded slowly.
"That saved my whole project," she said. "You're good."
He didn't know what to say. Praise always felt like someone speaking in a language he hadn't learned yet.
She smiled gently and added, "Don't burn out, okay?"
Then she turned and walked away.
Zixin sat in silence for a while. Then he pulled out his phone, opened his notes app, and edited the last two lines.
Don't quitNot yet→ Take a walk with her someday