It was past midnight when Yan Xiyan slipped through the creaking side gate of the training compound, hoodie pulled over her damp hair, boots caked in the dust of another grueling night.
She barely made it five steps into her dorm before flopping onto the mattress face-first. Just as her eyes began to close
"Pssst."
Her eyes snapped open. Silence.
She turned her head slowly toward the window.
Nothing.
"Yan Xiyan…"
Her spine stiffened. That voice wasn't Sergeant Zhang's usual bark or Grandpa Yan's gruff baritone. It was lower, smoother, almost teasing. And it was coming from the shadows near her desk.
She sat up sharply. "Who's there?"
A silhouette peeled away from the darkness, like a ghost stepping into the material world. Tall, lean, and cloaked in black, the figure leaned lazily against the bookshelf, arms crossed.
"Well, that depends. Who do you want me to be?"
Xiyan blinked. "Preferably someone not breaking into my dorm?"
He chuckled softly, like velvet brushing across broken glass. "You're quick. That's good. Would've been disappointed if you screamed."
She didn't scream. But she did grab the pen beside her bed. "I will stab you. In the eye."
"Noted," he said, completely unfazed. "But stabbing your new classmate isn't a great first impression."
"…What?"
He stepped forward, finally letting the moonlight hit his face. Sharp jawline, tousled dark hair, eyes that glinted like mischief and secrets wrapped in smoke.
"Oh no," she groaned, realization dawning. "You're that transfer student, the one who made Teacher Lin spill her coffee by just existing."
He gave her a mock bow. "Qiao Zeyan. At your service."
Her brain short-circuited for a second. Qiao Zeyan—top scorer in three provinces, transferred under a scholarship that didn't even exist until he arrived. Rumor said he turned down a spot at a military academy abroad for reasons.
Reasons like… stalking people at 1 a.m.?
She narrowed her eyes. "Why are you here?"
"I was curious. About you."
"That's not creepy at all."
He gave a lopsided grin. "You're a curious case, Yan Xiyan. Your reflexes in sparring class are too clean. Your answers in physics? Off by exactly nothing. And yesterday, you caught a dart with two fingers. Who does that?"
She didn't answer.
He didn't expect her to.
"Don't worry," he added, pushing off the bookshelf. "I'm not here to expose you. Yet."
His tone lightened. "But if you're planning on continuing your double life, maybe lock your windows next time. Just saying."
And with that, he was gone vanishing as easily as he appeared.
Xiyan stared at the space he'd just occupied, then flopped back onto her bed with a groan.
"Great. Now I've got a stalker and calculus homework."