The summer afternoon air carried a strange, heavy humidity. It felt as if the sky itself was bowed under the weight of some untold story.
A new city. A new street. A completely new beginning.
I rested my chin on the cold glass of the car window and watched the dust swirl outside. Wide, clean roads, rows of tall camphor trees on both sides, and behind them large mansions that felt like they belonged to another silent world. In my old neighborhood, houses were small, walls were pressed against each other, and the lanes were always alive with the noise of children. But here? Here the houses were huge—and the silences behind them even larger.
"Do people here even talk to each other?" I thought, absentmindedly drawing a small imaginary cartoon on the window glass with my fingers.
As soon as the car stopped, the sound of luggage being unloaded filled the air.
I pulled up my loose jeans and adjusted the cuffs of my light blue oversized top up to my elbows. In this biting heat, this was the only way to feel even slightly comfortable. I tied my shoulder-length curly hair into a loose ponytail, though a few stubborn strands escaped and fell across my forehead along with my curtain bangs.
In my hands was a bundle of anime posters, which I was holding as tightly as if it were some precious treasure. If even a corner of these posters got torn, I would genuinely cry.
Just then, a very familiar, teasing voice sounded right next to my ear—
"Hey, sketchbook shop!"
My eyes closed on their own. Taking a deep breath, I turned around.
Lin Yichen. My real brother. First year of college and undoubtedly the biggest drama king in the entire world.
He lightly nudged my shoulder with his elbow. A sly, familiar smile sat on his face, clearly saying my mood was about to be ruined in the next few minutes.
"So tell me, Miss Screenwriter? What will you do in this new city full of luxurious silence? Lock yourself in your room all day watching anime? Write another tearjerker novel? Or talk dialogue to these new walls?"
Without wasting a second, I swung my rolled-up poster and hit his back with full force.
"I'll tell you right now—"
"Ow! Mom, look at her!" he shouted dramatically, stepping back.
Just then, heavy but controlled footsteps came from behind us. The moment we recognized them, both of us froze.
Mom.
Zhao Wenli's light taps landed one after another on both our backs. Though gentle, they clearly meant: 'Enough.'
"It's the first day in the new house. Do your wrestling inside the rooms, not on the street making a scene," Mom said, wiping sweat from her forehead with the edge of her sari. Exhaustion from the shift was clearly visible in her voice. She gave us both a sharp look—one that needed no words to understand.
We immediately said in unison, acting innocent—"We didn't do anything, Mom."
Dad—Lin Haoran—laughed while placing the trunk on the ground and pointed toward the main door.
"Anxi, stop joking and take this important luggage to your room upstairs. The sun is getting strong."
I hugged the bundle of posters tighter against my chest, stuck my tongue out at my brother, and climbed the stairs toward the upper part of the house.
My room was at the very top of this three-story house. The first thing I loved the moment I opened the door was the massive floor-to-ceiling glass window. Golden afternoon sunlight filtered through it and floated across the wooden floor.
I took a deep breath. For the next hour, I carefully arranged my favorite anime figures on the shelf, stacked my empty writing notebooks on the desk one over another, and then collapsed directly onto the bed without even washing my feet. Lying on my back, I simply stared at the white ceiling.
A new city. A completely unfamiliar life. And maybe, some new stories for my diary.
I had always imagined characters in my mind. My school grades were always average, teachers used to sigh looking at me, but when I held my fountain pen, the blank page turned into a magical kingdom. "One day I will become a real screenwriter and people will cry and laugh at my dialogues." I silently repeated this promise to myself again.
A strange silence suddenly spread through the room, mixed with the faint hum of the AC. For some reason, my gaze drifted toward the window.
The view outside was clear and direct. The biggest and most luxurious house in the entire suburban area stood right in front of ours. Its walls were unusually tall, a heavy black iron gate was completely shut, and an eerie silence surrounded it, screaming that the people inside were not ordinary.
"Who lives there? Nothing moves even in this afternoon…" I got up and walked to the window, placing my hands on the glass.
Just then, the heavy curtain of the second-floor window of the house opposite moved aside.
There was dim light inside. And right in the middle of that faint glow, a shadow appeared.
It was a boy.
His back was turned toward me. A streak of harsh afternoon sunlight touched his shoulders. He casually lifted his loose black T-shirt with both hands… and took it off, throwing it aside.
My breath got stuck in my throat. My fingers froze on the glass.
'What… what did I just see?'
His bare back showed a spine so straight and sharp, as if a sculptor had carved it from marble. His broad shoulders and narrow waist had a rigid posture that silently conveyed he was not someone who ever bowed before the world.
My face suddenly felt hot. I should have looked away immediately. I should have closed my eyes. But for some reason, my feet felt stuck to the floor. My mind said 'run', but my eyes stayed there.
Maybe my stare was strong enough for him to notice.
Slowly, he turned his neck and looked directly toward my window.
The air seemed to stop for a second. His eyes—dark, cold, and completely blank—pierced straight into mine. There was no surprise of being caught. No panic or embarrassment. Just a deep, numbing stare, as if he had recorded me as a trivial note in his diary.
My heart pounded so loudly I could hear it in my ears.
"Shameless! Lin Anxi, you've completely lost your mind!" I almost collapsed onto the floor. My forehead hit the concrete below the window so hard I saw faint flashes of stars.
I covered my burning cheeks with both hands, breathing heavily. What would he think of me now? A shameless girl spying into people's rooms in broad daylight?
I took a long, cold breath. "Forget it, Anxi. Adults are busy. He must have forgotten in a second," I whispered to myself.
Just then, Dad's heavy voice came from downstairs—
"Anxi! Come down, we need to pick up lunch from the nearby market. Will you go?"
I jolted myself upright, fixed my hair with my fingers, and ran downstairs. "Yes, Dad, I'm going!" I said breathlessly.
"Take your brother with you, it's too sunny," Mom said from the sofa, her tired eyes showing a headache.
I looked at Yichen, who was slumped in the corner of the sofa. Without looking up from his phone, he said in a cold tone, "I'm busy. Go yourself."
"Fine, I don't need you anyway," I said, wrinkling my nose. I took money from Dad, put my wallet in my pocket, and walked out through the main door.
The moment I stepped outside, the scorching summer sun hit my eyes. I shielded them with my hand and walked forward.
The streets of this new suburban town were very quiet, but the silence carried a strange loneliness. When you arrive in a new place, the first few hours feel like you've accidentally walked onto someone else's film set where you don't belong.
I was about to take out my earphones in frustration when a sharp, cheerful voice came from behind—
"Hey! Wait!"
My steps stopped. I turned around.
A girl was running toward me. She wore denim shorts and a loose yellow T-shirt, her hair flying in the wind. Her face carried an infectious energy that screamed without words—'I am the most fun person in the world.'
Right behind her, a small child was running—around ten or eleven years old, wearing a cute floral frock. Her big deer-like eyes were fixed on me.
"You're the one who moved into house number 4 today, right?" the girl asked without catching her breath.
"Ah… yes," I replied hesitantly.
"I knew it! My name is Gu Xiaoran. I live in the house right next to yours." She extended her hand directly in front of me without any formality.
I smiled and shook her hand. There was a strange warmth in her grip. "I'm Lin Anxi."
Then the little girl tugged my hand down and raised her own. "And my name? Why did you forget me?"
Xiaoran laughed and lightly tapped her head. "Yutong, you introduce yourself when someone asks you. You want VIP entry everywhere?"
"My name is Shen Yutong!" the child declared proudly, ignoring her completely. "And from now on, you're our new friend in this lane!"
I laughed genuinely, almost forgetting myself. I had barely been here two hours, and I was already being welcomed like this.
"So, where are you going in this hot afternoon?" Xiaoran asked, shading her eyes.
"To get some packed lunch. Is there a restaurant nearby?"
"Come on, I'll come too! I know which uncle sells the coldest and best lemonade," Xiaoran said like a commander. It wasn't a request; it was a decision.
I didn't mind. In fact, it felt nice.
The three of us walked together on the wide road. Little Yutong held my left hand and Xiaoran's right hand in the middle. Her tiny grip was soft yet strong. Xiaoran kept talking—gossip about the neighborhood, strict school teachers, and strange local rules. I just listened, nodding.
And slowly, the emptiness and unfamiliarity this new city had brought began melting like ice in sunlight. Maybe this place wasn't as bad as I thought.
Then suddenly—for some reason—my mind drifted back to that windowed shadow. Those cold, lifeless eyes.
My steps froze for a second. 'Why am I thinking about him again?'
Unconsciously, I turned my gaze toward the largest and tallest house. The window on the second floor was now completely closed. Curtains drawn.
"What happened, Anxi? Did you drop something?" Xiaoran asked, turning back.
"No… nothing. Just like that," I said with a fake smile and increased my pace. I didn't even know his name. And I fully expected that cold boy to have forgotten my face by evening.
But some first encounters… maybe aren't meant to be forgotten.
Just then, little Yutong walking beside us suddenly jumped and pointed toward the black gate—
"Look! That's my brother!"
Without thinking, I immediately looked in that direction.
Near the heavy black iron gate stood a boy alone. The harsh afternoon sunlight fell on his silky black hair, which covered part of his eyes. He wore a black shirt and trousers. His posture was so detached and rigid, as if he didn't care whether the world lived or died.
His back was still toward us.
But Xiaoran suddenly grabbed my arm tightly and whispered in fear, "Anxi, don't look there. Everyone in this area and school calls him 'Mr. Devil'. He is very ruthless and dangerous. He doesn't talk to anyone."
But before I could process her words, Yutong, holding my hand, shouted loudly—
"Brother~!"
At the echo of that voice, the boy's shoulders stiffened slightly. Slowly, he turned his neck in a measured motion.
Through the strands of his hair covering his eyes, his gaze emerged. It first went to Yutong, softening slightly… and then turned directly toward me.
One moment. Just one infinite, freezing moment.
My chest felt like it stopped breathing. My limbs went numb.
Those were the same eyes. The same dark, endlessly deep, ice-cold eyes I had seen through my window earlier. In the sunlight, I could now see a faint old scar under his left eye, adding an even more mysterious and frightening layer to his beauty.
He looked at me as if I were nothing more than a passing breeze with no existence. He averted his gaze so indifferently, as if I wasn't even there.
He placed his hand on the gate handle and walked into that dark, silent house without a word. The heavy gate shut behind him with a deep echo.
Shen Yichen.
At that time, I didn't even know his name. I didn't know that this "Mr. Devil" was going to write the most beautiful and most painful script of my life.
But in that frozen moment of the afternoon, something had passed between those two pairs of eyes…
Something my heart could not understand then, but something I would never be able to forget for my entire life, even if I tried.