Skyscrapers pierced the sky, their tops dissolving into the soft haze of clouds. Below, the roads vibrated with an endless stream of cars, while people hurried in every direction—like shards of light inside a vast, cold kaleidoscope of a city.
Technology was advancing rapidly, and each year humanity conquered new heights. But progress had its reverse side: the thin ozone layer was wearing away, the climate was changing, and nature itself seemed to be cracking at the seams, trying to warn of an approaching disaster. Glaciers were melting, sea levels were slowly rising, and even familiar seasons were becoming unpredictable.
On television, a news anchor spoke in an even, emotionless voice about the state of the planet. His words echoed hollowly through the house, bouncing off bare walls and filling the space with dry facts.
A woman walked down the corridor in soft slippers and a cozy robe. She picked up the remote from the dresser, and the man sitting in the living room felt a chill run down his spine. When he turned his head, he saw his wife—her hand tightly gripping the remote, her strict gaze saying more than words ever could.
"How many times have I asked you not to turn the news up so loud?" she said quietly, but firmly.
Jiang Bai immediately stood up, gently turned her around, and led her into the kitchen.
"Don't be angry," he smiled. "Anger causes wrinkles. At least let's try to avoid those."
He seated her on a chair. Hot dishes and fresh fruit were already laid out on the table—everything prepared with care and patience.
"And where is Jiang Lin?" he asked casually.
Yan Li slowly lifted her gaze, her face tensing again.
"Your son has school today. Did you forget?" she said. "Don't tell me you didn't take him again. Your work is exhausting you more than I thought."
Jiang Bai sighed guiltily, kissed his wife on the cheek, grabbed his briefcase, and hurried out of the house.
Such quarrels were common—quick, loud, and short-lived. This family was full of small, everyday moments and a quiet love that smoothed everything over.
Snowflakes fell in sparse clusters, like belated, weary stars. Jiang Lin sat at his desk, watching the first snow—late for December, yet calming nonetheless. His lips twitched almost imperceptibly.
The teacher at the blackboard was also looking out the window, but there was no wonder or curiosity in his dark eyes. Only exhaustion. The rhythmic tapping of a pen against the desk pulled the class back to reality.
"Stop getting distracted," he said. "These are some of the last school days. Pay attention."
The door opened, and a female teacher entered the classroom—a middle-aged woman, slightly rushed. It seemed her lesson was about to begin. She lightly nudged the man with her elbow to get his attention.
He flinched, turned his head, and fixed his gaze on her. Smooth, attentive, cold. Her mouth went dry for a second.
"B-break time is over… Chemistry class is starting now," she muttered.
He nodded briefly.
"I understand. I suppose it's time for me to take my leave."
As he passed her, he lightly patted her on the shoulder. The gesture seemed friendly, but she only relaxed after the door closed behind him.
She took a deep breath and turned to the class.
"Quiet down. The lesson has begun."
Jiang Lin looked away from the window and nodded. His thoughts were still far away. He felt a slight tug—someone pulled at his sleeve.
A boy was sitting beside him—neat, with dark hair falling over his eyes. Over all these months, they had barely spoken.
"What was the homework from the last lesson?" he whispered cautiously. "I didn't hear Teacher Gu…"
"Nothing," Jiang Lin replied after a brief pause. "I think he didn't assign anything. I was distracted too…"
He didn't get to finish—a piece of chalk struck him squarely on the forehead.
Wen Yunxuan flinched, but it was already too late.
Teacher Yan stood by the desk, staring coldly at the two of them. The classroom fell silent instantly.
Jiang Lin let out a nervous chuckle, trying to explain something.
"Teacher Yan… I… we…"
She sighed tiredly.
"Into the corridor. Hands up. Don't bend your knees."
They stepped out of the classroom. The cold school corridor greeted them with silence and pale light.
Jiang Lin stood with his hands raised, feeling the spot on his forehead burn as anxiety slowly crept in.
I got kicked out during Aunt Yan's lesson… If Mom finds out, I'm dead.
He nervously picked at his nails.
"I'm sorry," Wen Yunxuan said quietly, lowering his head. "I didn't mean to…"
There was no teenage bravado in his voice, no excuses—only genuine guilt.
And that made it not easier, but harder