“Little Butterfly, ditching class again? Aren’t you worried about your teacher?” Zhuang Zi’ang and Su Yudiel strolled side-by-side down the snack street, each munching on a skewer of fish balls.

When Su Yudiel ate, her cheeks puffed out like a cute little pufferfish. “Nope,” she chirped, cheeks still bulging. “Got a leave slip.”

Zhuang Zi’ang scoffed. “Yeah, right. Do you take me for a three-year-old?”

Su Yudiel swung off her shoulder bag, unzipped it, and produced a whole stack of leave slips. They were already signed by the homeroom teacher, but the date lines were blank. Meaning Su Yudiel could just fill in the date whenever she felt like skipping out.

“Seriously?” Zhuang Zi’ang’s eyes widened. He squinted at the scribbled signature, but couldn't decipher a single character. This was what other people’s teachers were like?

“Wait a sec – if you’ve got leave slips, why the wall-climbing routine?”

“Faster this way,” she mumbled around a fish ball, “and we get to hit up all the good eats.”

Su Yudiel’s foodie logic left Zhuang Zi’ang speechless. He still couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something mysterious, something unreadable about this girl.

He switched gears. “So, how’d you guess I was feeling down?”

Su Yudiel popped her head up, index finger extended, and bopped Zhuang Zi’ang lightly on the chest. Tiptoeing closer, she whispered conspiratorially in his ear, “’Cause we’re friends, duh! Telepathic connection, you know?”

The warm puff of air on his neck sent a tingle down his spine. Telepathic connection? Seriously? That’s a pretty lame excuse.

“Come on,” Su Yudiel said, grabbing Zhuang Zi’ang’s wrist and tugging him off the snack street and down a long set of stone steps.

The winding river stretched out before them, like a sleeping dragon. The water flowed east, silent and steady, willows swaying softly on the banks.

They crossed a wide patch of green grass and reached the pebbled riverbank. These seemingly plain pebbles had been smoothed and rounded by the relentless river current, colliding and grinding against each other for millions of years.

Human life, a fleeting century, felt insignificant in comparison. Like that old saying went: “Human life in this world is like a white colt flashing past a crack – gone in a blink.” In the grand sweep of history, three months or a hundred years, what difference did it really make? Both vanished in the blink of an eye.

Closer to the water, they could hear the gentle lapping of the current against the bank. A cool breeze ruffled their hair and clothes. Su Yudiel kicked off her shoes and socks, revealing delicate, jade-like feet, and stepped gingerly onto the smooth pebbles. The river water rose, swirling around her ankles. White spray splashed, dampening the hem of her navy blue skirt.

“Take off your shoes, come on in!” Su Yudiel called, beckoning him.

“Should we really be playing in the water right now? Class and all?” Zhuang Zi’ang hesitated.

“Have you always been such a rule-follower?” Su Yudiel challenged, a playful glint in her eyes.

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Her words hit home. Yeah, you’re right. Why should I always play by the rules?

He quickly shed his shoes, rolled up his pant legs, and carefully picked his way across the pebbles to join Su Yudiel. The cool river water, rushing around his ankles, felt amazing.

Su Yudiel cupped her hands around her mouth and yelled towards the river, “Zhuang Zi’ang is such a dork!”

The sound bounced off the bridge arches, echoing back to them. “Zhuang Zi’ang is such a dork… such a dork… a dork…”

Su Yudiel burst into laughter, her laughter like silver bells, her smile radiant.

“Hey! Why are you giving me grief again?” Zhuang Zi’ang grumbled, pretending to be annoyed.

“’Cause you’re always so glum, torturing yourself! Total dork move!” Su Yudiel pouted her cherry-red lips.

Zhuang Zi’ang, not to be outdone, mimicked her, yelling at the river, “Little Butterfly is a silly goose!”

“Little Butterfly is a silly goose… silly goose… goose…” The echoes from the bridge layered on top of each other.

Su Yudiel just grinned wider, her beautiful almond eyes crinkling into crescent moons. Then she shouted again, her voice ringing out, “Zhuang Zi’ang, be happy every day!”

Zhuang Zi’ang turned to watch Little Butterfly, her perfect profile outlined against the sunlight, a wave of sorrow washing over him. He was totally falling for this girl. Knowing it was wrong, knowing it was pointless, but he was helpless to pull himself away.

How was he going to face the looming goodbye in three months?

Noticing Zhuang Zi’ang’s silence, Su Yudiel glanced up and saw his eyes glistening with tears.

“Hey,” she said softly, “it’s okay to cry, you know.”

That was it. Something inside Zhuang Zi’ang just snapped. All the pent-up sadness and hurt just flooded him. Big tears streamed down his face, splashing into the river, creating silent ripples.

Not wanting Little Butterfly to see him in such a mess, Zhuang Zi’ang bent over, fighting to stay silent, but quiet sobs still escaped him, his whole body shaking.

Su Yudiel reached out, gently stroking his back, trying to comfort him. Before she knew it, her own eyes were brimming with tears.

“Little Butterfly, why are you crying?” he choked out.

“We’re good friends,” she sniffled. “Seeing you sad… makes me sad too.”

He’d thought there was nothing left to lose in this cold world. But right now, a huge wave of longing washed over him.

Why? Why did I have to meet you now, when I’m terminally ill?

Zhuang Zi’ang forced himself to stop crying and reached out, gently wiping away the crystal teardrops on Little Butterfly’s cheeks. Like the most precious gems.

“Little Butterfly,” he said, his voice still thick with emotion, “I’m not sad anymore. Promise me you won’t cry, okay?”

“Okay,” Su Yudiel sobbed. “Let the river wash away all your sadness. Be happy every day from now on, okay?”

Zhuang Zi’ang knelt down and splashed cool river water on his face, letting the endless flow carry away his tears.

Just then, a larger wave surged in, the water rising higher, reaching Su Yudiel’s calves. With a little yelp, she hiked up her skirt with both hands, scrambling backwards.

“Careful, the stones are slippery, don’t wipe out,” Zhuang Zi’ang warned quickly.

“Carry me up!” Su Yudiel said, looking a little flustered.

Without a second thought, Zhuang Zi’ang reached down and swept her up in a bridal carry. He was getting to be a pro at this by now, wasn’t he?

Setting her down on the grass, Su Yudiel perched, resting her bare feet on Zhuang Zi’ang’s legs to dry. He wasn’t really a guy with a foot fetish, he told himself, but he still couldn't help but steal glances at her fair, delicate feet.

“Zhuang Zi’ang,” Su Yudiel said, a blush creeping up her cheeks, “why do you keep staring at my feet?”

“Huh? No I’m not! Looking at the grass!” Zhuang Zi’ang stubbornly denied.

“Uh-huh. Seven times now.”

“Nonsense! My gaze has to land somewhere!”

Busted, Zhuang Zi’ang turned his head away, staring up at the drifting clouds, his cheeks warming.

“Alright, alright, I’m not mad,” Su Yudiel said, a hint of a smile in her voice. “Shoe service, please.”

“Put ‘em on yourself. It’s not like you don’t have hands,” Zhuang Zi’ang teased back.

“Hmph, stingy,” she pouted, but her eyes were sparkling.