Two months ago.
The night air on campus had a quiet chill to it, thick with secrets. Zhao Rui stood in the shadows, hoodie pulled over his head, face half-lit by the orange hue of a nearby lamp post. He wasn't breathing heavily, but his heart had been pounding for the past twenty minutes.
Across the courtyard, Li Chen leaned against the side of a sleek black car, laughing about something with Lu Kai. His expression was sharp, smug, magnetic—his voice too loud, too confident for someone Rui already hated.
Lin Qi stood beside Rui, chewing gum loudly and giving him a sideways look. "So... that's him?" he asked.
Rui didn't blink. "Yeah."
"He doesn't look like a murderer," Lin said dryly.
"I didn't say he was," Rui replied.
Lin cocked a brow. "Still sure about this?"
Rui's fingers tightened in the sleeves of his hoodie. "He's the only one who was close to Tian before he disappeared. If there's anyone who knows what happened… it's him."
Lin Qi sighed, nodding. "So what's the plan?"
"Get close. Make him talk. Find the truth. Then walk away."
But Rui's hand was trembling. Lin noticed—but didn't say a word.
---
Now, in the present—
Zhao Rui stood behind the camera in the photography studio, focused on his lens as Li Chen adjusted his collar in front of him. Rui didn't say anything, but his eyes traced the line of Li's jaw too long, too knowingly.
Li tilted his head, his mouth curling slightly.
"You always look at me like that," he murmured.
"Like what?" Rui asked, not lowering the camera.
"Like you're measuring me. Like you already know my worst parts and you're just waiting to be proven right."
"Maybe I am."
Li stepped forward slowly, not breaking eye contact. "Still think I'm the villain in your little drama?"
Rui hesitated. He wanted to say yes. He really did.
But the way Li was looking at him—hungry, fixated—it rattled something in him.
"You haven't exactly proved otherwise."
Li's voice dropped, almost vulnerable. "You're the only one who doesn't pretend around me."
Rui blinked.
Something shifted. It wasn't dramatic. But it hurt more because it was quiet.
Guilt flashed across Rui's eyes, quick and deep.
---
That night, Rui sat across from his mother at the kitchen table. She was telling a story—one she'd told before—about how he used to get scared of lightning as a child and would crawl into her lap no matter how "grown-up" he thought he was.
Rui chuckled softly, politely.
His mother paused mid-sentence, eyeing him carefully. "You okay, Rui?"
He nodded quickly. "Just tired."
She watched him a moment longer, her smile slipping just a little.
She wanted to press—she could feel something was off—but decided to let it go.
Probably just exam stress, she told herself.
But Rui's fingers never stopped twitching near the edge of his plate. And he hadn't looked her in the eyes since she'd sat down.
Later that night, alone in his room, Rui opened the bottom drawer of his desk. Inside lay a small photo: his ex-boyfriend, Tian, grinning in front of the astronomy building. Rui's thumb brushed over the glossy surface, before pulling out an old printed university record.
On the back, written in Rui's handwriting:
> "Last seen leaving campus with Li Chen's uncle."
He stared at the name. Then ripped the paper clean in two.
---
Tian hadn't just disappeared. He'd left a mess behind.
He was charming, yes—intelligent, magnetic, but also reckless. Flirtatious with everyone, even when he knew Rui hated it. There had been too many parties. Too many late-night fights. The last one… had ended with Tian saying something Rui still couldn't forget.
> "You'll never be enough to control someone like me."
Then he was gone.
And days later, all Rui had left was a rumor. A photo. And a name—Li Chen's family.
---
Later that night, on the rooftop—
Rui stood near the edge, the cold wind pulling at his hoodie. Li Chen appeared without warning, as always.
"You're always up here," he said. "What, waiting for someone to fall?"
Rui didn't turn. "Maybe."
"If I fall, will you catch me?"
"No," Rui said flatly. "I'd take photos."
Li smirked, stepping closer.
Then, with sudden intensity, he reached for Rui—his hand brushing Rui's neck, right where the small mole was. His fingers lingered for half a second too long.
And then, without asking, he bent down and kissed it.
A slow, deliberate press of his lips—like he was branding Rui as his.
Rui jerked back.
"I told you not to—"
"I don't care," Li said, voice low.
"That spot is mine."
Rui didn't speak. Didn't move.
But his eyes—wide and unreadable—shimmered with something sharp.
---
Two months ago again—
Lin Qi had just handed him a folder.
"Everything we could find on Li Chen and his uncle. Financial records. Campus reports. Even his father's old company shares."
Rui flipped through it without hesitation.
"Rui… are you really going to use the photography project to get close to him?" Lin asked.
"Yes."
"You're getting in too deep."
"I know what I'm doing," Rui replied coldly.
He didn't. Not really.
---
The next afternoon, Rui helped decorate booths for the college fair with his friends. Xia Zhi was organizing paint; Gao Yuan was sketching quietly in his notebook, occasionally glancing Rui's way.
Tang Wei, ever dramatic, flirted with a visiting student—who turned out to be straight and awkwardly fled the scene.
Lin Qi pulled Rui aside.
"You're getting in too deep."
"I'm fine."
"Are you?" Lin's gaze pierced him. "Because I see the way you look at him now."
Rui said nothing for a long moment.
Then quietly—almost like a confession to himself—he said, "He's not the one who did it."
Lin looked at him sharply. "But he still doesn't know you're using him."
Rui didn't answer.
He didn't have to.
---
That night, Rui found a small folded note slipped under his door.
> "Come to the rooftop. Alone."
He went. And there Li was—sitting on the ledge with a bag of red bean pastries.
"I brought two," Li said. "In case you'd show up."
Rui stared.
He sat beside him anyway.
They ate in silence.
"When you're not around," Li said softly, "it's too quiet."
"That's not something you say to someone you barely know," Rui whispered.
"Then maybe I want to know you better."
Rui's breath hitched. He stood up too quickly, pulse racing.
"You don't," he said. "Trust me."
He walked away, leaving Li alone under the sky.
And for the first time since they met—Li didn't smirk.