Chapter 2: Ordinary Days Do Not Ask for Permission
Li Yun woke to the sound of rain tapping softly against the window.
Not the violent kind that flooded streets or rattled glass—just a steady drizzle, patient and unremarkable, as if the city itself had decided to breathe a little slower this morning.
For a moment, he stayed still.
The ceiling above him was the same off-white color it had always been, with a faint crack near the corner that he kept forgetting to ask the landlord about. The air smelled faintly of detergent and old paper. Somewhere outside, a scooter engine coughed to life and faded into the distance.
Nothing had changed.
That realization should have been comforting. Instead, it left behind a thin, inexplicable unease.
Li Yun sat up and rubbed his face. His body felt normal—no pain, no weakness, no strange sensations. Just the familiar heaviness of another weekday settling onto his shoulders.
He swung his legs off the bed and stood, stretching once before walking toward the small sink in the corner of the room. The mirror reflected a young man of eighteen with black hair that never quite stayed in place and eyes that were too calm for someone his age.
He wasn't handsome in a striking way, but there was a quiet balance to his features. Sharp enough to be noticed, plain enough to be overlooked. The kind of face people forgot five minutes after meeting.
Li Yun brushed his teeth, splashed water on his face, and changed into his uniform—dark trousers, white shirt, and the navy blazer bearing the silver emblem of Qinghe Starfall Academy.
Elite. Public. Untouchable.
That was how people described the school.
He adjusted his collar, grabbed his bag, and stepped out of his room.
The apartment was small but tidy. Bookshelves lined one wall of the living area, filled with textbooks, old novels, and a few borrowed volumes on economics and philosophy. A narrow kitchen occupied the opposite side.
Lin Yue was already awake.
She stood by the counter, tying her hair into a loose bun as a pot simmered quietly on the stove. She suggests calm, not because she tried to be, but because she had learned to be.
"Morning," she said without turning around.
"Morning," Li Yun replied.
She glanced at him briefly, her eyes sweeping over his uniform in the way only someone who had raised you—not by blood, but by circumstance—could.
"You're up earlier than usual."
"Couldn't sleep."
Lin Yue hummed softly, neither questioning nor pressing. She ladled porridge into two bowls and set one on the small dining table.
"Eat," she said. "You have a presentation today, don't you?"
Li Yun paused. "You remembered."
"You forget that I work in your school's library," she replied lightly. "I hear things."
She sat across from him, her own bowl untouched for the moment. In the morning light, she looked younger than her age—soft features, neat clothes, an air of quiet competence. No one at Qinghe Starfall Academy would guess that she lived in a rented apartment with a student, or that her past was little more than a collection of sealed documents and unanswered questions.
Li Yun ate in silence for a while.
"Be careful today," Lin Yue said suddenly.
He looked up. "About what?"
She hesitated, just for a fraction of a second. "Nothing specific. Just… the city's been strange lately."
"That's vague."
"I know." She smiled faintly. "Humor me."
He nodded. "I always do."
That earned him a look—half fond, half weary.
After breakfast, Li Yun slung his bag over his shoulder and headed for the door. Lin Yue watched him from the kitchen, her gaze lingering until the door closed behind him.
Only then did she let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding.
The streets were busy despite the rain.
Commuters moved in practiced lines, umbrellas forming a shifting mosaic of dark colors. Buses hissed as they stopped, doors sliding open and shut with mechanical precision.
Li Yun walked the familiar route to the metro station, hands in his pockets, mind half-occupied by the day ahead.
Qinghe Starfall Academy sat at the edge of the city's educational district, a sprawling complex of glass and steel surrounded by green spaces and artificial lakes. It was a place designed to inspire confidence—both in parents and investors.
Inside the gates, students passed through security scanners without breaking stride. Facial recognition confirmed identities in seconds. Digital displays updated schedules in real time.
Li Yun blended into the flow.
His classroom was already half full when he arrived. The air buzzed with low conversation, laughter, the clack of tablets being set down on desks.
He took his seat near the middle, pulling out his notebook.
Two rows ahead of him sat Su Ran.
She was already reviewing notes, posture straight, expression composed. Her long hair was tied back neatly, not a strand out of place. There was an effortless authority to the way others unconsciously gave her space.
Near the window sat Xia Wei, leaning back in her chair, spinning a pen between her fingers. She noticed Li Yun as he entered and lifted a hand in greeting.
"Morning, Li Yun."
"Morning."
She grinned. "You look tired."
"Didn't sleep well."
"Same," she said cheerfully. "Must be something in the air."
Su Ran didn't look up.
That wasn't unusual. She wasn't unfriendly—just selective with her attention.
The lesson began as scheduled. Economics. Market structures. Case studies projected onto the smart board.
Li Yun listened, took notes, answered when called upon. He performed well enough to be respected, not well enough to be singled out.
That had always been his balance.
During the break, murmurs rippled through the room.
"Did you hear about the logistics merger?"
"My dad said the stock dipped overnight."
"There was a fire in the west industrial zone."
Li Yun caught fragments but didn't linger on them. Information like that was common here—children repeating conversations overheard at dinner tables where decisions affecting thousands were made between courses.
Still, something about the tension felt sharper today.
Xia Wei leaned over from the side. "Hey, are you free after school?"
"Maybe. Why?"
"My family's hosting a small thing this weekend. Nothing formal. I thought—" She paused, then waved it off. "Never mind. I'll tell you later."
He nodded, unsure what to say.
The bell rang.
Classes resumed.
By the time afternoon approached, the rain had stopped. Sunlight filtered through the glass corridors, casting clean reflections on polished floors.
Li Yun walked toward the library during lunch.
Lin Yue stood behind the counter, organizing returned books with methodical precision. When she saw him, her shoulders relaxed slightly.
"You're early," she said.
"Had time."
He leaned against the counter, lowering his voice. "Is everything okay?"
She studied him for a moment, then nodded. "Yes. Just busy."
He didn't push.
Around them, the library hummed with quiet activity. Students whispered over tables, holographic screens flickered softly, and the scent of old paper mingled with recycled air.
Normal.
Ordinary.
Li Yun left the library ten minutes later, unaware that this would be the last time the world felt this stable for a long while.
At 3:40 p.m., the final class of the day ended.
Students began packing up, conversations turning to dinner plans and weekend schedules. Some lingered, others hurried out.
Li Yun gathered his things.
At 3:47 p.m., the floor trembled.
Not enough to knock anyone down—but enough to silence every voice in the room.
Then—
Boom.
The sound rolled through the academy like a thunderclap trapped indoors.
Li Yun's heart skipped.
The lights flickered.
Somewhere, far below, metal screamed.
And just like that, the ordinary day stopped asking for permission to end.
Note: I will not writing any explicit porn descriptions in this novel