Today marked Thien Kim’s return to university after a long holiday spent at home with her parents. She was currently a third-year student at the Shanghai University of Finance and Economics. As she stood at the school gate waiting for Tu Ha - her best friend since elementary school - her eyes unintentionally caught sight of Phu Quang, her boyfriend, walking hand in hand with the campus beauty.
The two laughed and chatted like a couple madly in love, until Phú Quang’s gaze, wandering without intention, landed on a familiar figure near the gate. Even from a distance, without glasses, he could never mistake her - Thiên Kim.
Sunlight streamed down upon her glossy, flowing hair like strands of fine golden silk - delicate yet resilient, gleaming like a lone star streaking across the twilight sky. The elegant overcoat she wore hugged her slender figure perfectly, not flashy but refined, exuding a quiet allure that kept others at bay. Her face looked like it had been sculpted from marble - every feature delicately defined, yet soft and graceful, as if painted by an artist. Most striking of all were her eyes - not overly large, but sparkling, like a galaxy swirling with stars, holding an entire universe within.
When she looked at him, it wasn’t just a glance - it was a message. A silent but powerful one, as if her very presence altered the air around her. Phu Quang felt his chest tighten, like an invisible thread pulling him back into memories still vividly alive - of the happiness they once shared. But in that moment, her gaze bore no trace of the gentle warmth he once knew. She stood still, motionless, her eyes cold as if waiting for an explanation he himself knew too well.
The world seemed to spin as Phú Quang froze. The hand he was holding - the campus beauty’s - suddenly felt like a shackle tightening around his neck. He couldn’t breathe.
Without thinking, he let go and rushed over to Thien Kim. Each step pulled him further away from his panic, as though trying to outrun the consequences of his own actions. Reaching her, he paused, panting slightly from the run, his eyes never leaving the icy stillness on her face.
“Kim…” he called her name softly, his voice laced with both concern and the faintest trace of fear.
He saw it in her eyes - the warmth was gone. All that remained was cold disappointment. He knew there was now a distance between them - one he had created with his own hands.
“Kim, I… I didn’t mean for it to look like that,” Quang stammered, his voice tinged with panic. “I know what you're thinking, but it’s not what you believe. Anh Trúc… she’s the younger sister of a friend of mine. He’s sick today and couldn’t come to school, so I had to pick her up and walk her in.”
He paused, searching her eyes for a flicker of understanding. But Kim remained silent, her gaze unreadable. The more he spoke, the more lost he felt. Still, he pressed on.
“That’s all it is, Kim. I know how this looks, but I was just doing a favor. I didn’t mean anything by it,” he said, his voice quickening, desperate to reassure her that his intentions were pure.
But Kim said nothing. Her eyes, sharp as crystal, watched him with quiet intensity, as if dissecting every word. To Quang, it felt like no amount of explanation could pierce the chill between them.
“I don’t want you to think of me that way, I really don’t,” he said with a sigh, a man caught between regret and desperation. “I just want you to believe me… that I didn’t do anything wrong. I was just helping.”
He stood there, helpless, swallowed by the growing silence. His words seemed powerless to bridge the distance now etched between them.