Chapter Thirty-Six: Be a Little Braver

Qin Mo struggled to keep her expression under control, but no matter how she tried to compose herself, she was still every bit the girl struck by Cupid’s arrow—shy, delighted, expectant, reserved. The surge of emotion, the magic unleashed by her inner turmoil, was laid bare in her eyes.

Ji Ning could not tell if Qin Mo’s reaction was normal; she said nothing, her eyes dazzling as the stars, resting on his chest as though she meant to see through to his innermost thoughts. Then, lightly, she turned away, all traces of joy, anger, sorrow, and delight vanishing from her beautiful face, making it impossible to guess at her feelings—but at least she did not slap this roguish youth in anger.

Suddenly, Ji Ning felt as if something in his chest would leap out, like a star at the end of its life burning to its final flare. In that moment, his consciousness detached, a stranger’s voice—oddly familiar, yet unknown—drifted lazily in his ear: “To love someone and not confess it, waiting instead for Heaven’s mercy?”

That was certainly not the voice of SCP-CN-655; it sounded more like a young man’s teasing. Ji Ning watched himself muster the courage to carry out this ritual-like confession.

No ornate words were needed; only sincerity of heart. This thought rose naturally from deep within Ji Ning. When he gazed into those star-bright eyes, he knew that at such a moment, the only thing to do was to speak honestly.

“Katherine and I are just classmates who carried out a mission together, but what happened yesterday made me realize my feelings for you. I’ve never been in love before, so I can’t say if this strange emotion is truly affection, but I’ve thought about it all afternoon. What if it is? It’d be such a shame to let it pass by. Most importantly, I know you have feelings for me too; maybe it’s just the suspension bridge effect, but even so, this illusion gave me the courage to come find you. Miss Qin Mo, I want to make a deal with you.”

“You’re beautiful, but my feelings aren’t shallow or impulsive—I came to see you after careful thought. I’ve only known you a month, and I don’t believe in love at first sight. Reality isn’t a fairy tale; there’s no perfect match, no instant mutual understanding. All love must be slowly shaped, with mutual influence and change. Perhaps love is too distant, but if one day I am to fall in love through time and familiarity, I hope, at this moment, that person will be you.”

Hearing Ji Ning’s earnest declaration, seeing him with his hair tousled from sleep, Qin Mo knew full well he was a flirt, a smooth talker who could lie even before God, and yet she was still moved.

Ji Ning noticed her cheeks flushed, her silence, her fingers twisting the hem of her clothes in circles—his anxious heart eased a little. He hadn’t planned to be so direct, but the earlier conversation with SCP-CN-655 had made him realize that spring had arrived in his own life; the vague attraction he felt toward a pretty girl now shone clear as a mirror wiped free of mist.

“We can… talk about it later,” Qin Mo said, feeling the heat in her cheeks, turning away to steady her breath. But the innate shyness of youth made her want to bury herself beneath her bedcovers.

Just as she was about to flee, Ji Ning, prepared for this, caught hold of her sleeve. “It took all my courage to say this—either accept or refuse; how can there be a ‘later’? A thousand years is too long; we must seize the day. At least give me your answer before you go. I’m ready for rejection.”

For Qin Mo, she knew that hesitation itself betrayed her true feelings. If she had no interest at all, her character would never allow her to drag things out. Looking at Ji Ning’s reflection in the window, his face full of anxious anticipation, she suddenly had the urge to touch that face, to tell this fool: if not for my feelings, why would I let you bring me to a strange city and live a life so different from before? But just as her fingers twitched, she quickly suppressed the urge.

She stared at that restless reflection, unable to contain a joy she had never felt before. This was the first tremor of a young girl’s heart, and the next ninety-nine would belong to the same person. Summoning her courage, she decided to speak just as honestly.

But as Qin Mo was about to voice her feelings, the words of Professor Héloïse Hall in today’s supernatural history class suddenly echoed in her mind—the naming of the Third Supernatural War. After the conflict, both sides pinned their crimes on so-called “probationary warriors,” and so it became known as the “Probationary War.”

Shy, reserved, Qin Mo made a compromise. She softly breathed a single word: “Probation.”

Then, blushing fiercely, the girl stared at her toes as though her black-and-white sneakers were inscribed with mysterious runes.

Ji Ning blinked. “What?”

“Probation,” she murmured, almost inaudible, “meaning… we could try… dating.”

Delighted, Ji Ning fought to suppress a grin. How bashful she was! Was there really such a thing as probation in matters of the heart? If anything, dating itself was just the trial period for marriage.

“Very well, then. Please take care of your probationary boyfriend from now on, Miss Qin Mo. Oh, and here—this is a finger sleeve I made for you. It’s not much to look at, but it should cover your signet ring.”

Qin Mo’s gaze fell to his palm. He wasn’t being modest—the black finger sleeve was truly homely, obviously handmade, for such an ugly thing could never be sold. Even so, as she thought this, a smile tugged at her lips. She slipped it onto her slender, fair finger, made a fist and found, to her surprise, it fit perfectly. She was just about to thank him when she looked up to find him staring at her in a daze, his fair, delicate face blooming pink like a peach tree in spring.

Though she tried to hide her happiness, her efforts failed. The finger sleeve might have been ugly, but the thought that this boy had poured his pure affection and time into something just for her made her heart melt.

Years later, when Ji Ning walked alone into darkness, he would leave himself a gentle afternoon to remember this day, because the most important thing in his barren life had finally appeared—his feelings for Qin Mo.

“When do your classes officially start?” Ji Ning, no longer teasing the blushing girl, remembered his original purpose for coming.

“I started one-on-one lessons during the holidays. Next semester, my progress will be the same as any first-year student. Ever since I joined this school, I’ve been catching up,” Qin Mo grumbled, not daring to admit that even today, she’d only accompanied Aphra after hearing Ji Ning’s call and asking her teacher for leave, which was why she’d had just one hour of freedom at noon.

“By the way, did you ask Professor Christina about your signet ring while I was gone?” Ji Ning inquired, wanting reassurance even though he was sure the matter had been resolved.

“Professor Christina teaches my Ancient God Rites and Ceremonies class. She said the ring on my hand is a token of the Outer God Idheila, but as long as I perform a concealment sealing ritual once a week, it will mask the aura. Idheila has so many followers, she has no time to look for me. So I’m quite safe now.”

“What electives did you choose?”

“Ancient God Rites and Communication Rituals, Beginner Close Combat, Combat Support. I wanted to call you for advice when I was picking, but your phone wouldn’t go through, so I had to follow my teachers’ arrangements. And it’s Sister Sylvia teaching me close combat!” Qin Mo chattered about her week, but for some reason, Ji Ning—who’d just managed to seem acceptable in her eyes—now irked her again. Weren’t you supposed to help me choose courses? Liar. How can you think of becoming official at this rate?

Ji Ning, unsure what he’d done to upset her, quickly lowered his head, thinking it best not to meet her gaze—who knew how she’d make trouble next?

“Originally, a senior should have been my academic advisor, but since I joined midyear, Sister Sylvia took over.”

“I have to go, I’m almost late!” Qin Mo glanced at the time, exclaiming. Only at this merciless Deer Academy could a break be so brief; her schedule was packed down to the minute.

“I’ll walk you there,” Ji Ning said, feeling he ought to fulfill his probationary boyfriend duties, even if he had no idea what those entailed. Instinctively, he wanted to spend more time with her.

“What are you waiting for then?” With the faintest smile, Qin Mo handed him her backpack. She’d mastered her embarrassment now, and the more she looked at this silly boy, the more she liked him.

Ji Ning grinned, slung the bag over his shoulder, and followed after her as she trotted ahead.

“Good afternoon, Professor Christina. My name is Ji Ning.” Ji Ning greeted an elderly lady old enough to be his grandmother.

“And who are you?” Professor Christina asked, as though she hadn’t heard.

Ji Ning, embarrassed, cleared his throat. “My! Name! Is! Ji! Ning!”

“No need to shout, brat. I know your name. I’m asking what you are to her.” Professor Christina rapped him sharply on the head.

Rubbing his head, Ji Ning replied, aggrieved, “I’m her probationary boyfriend.”

“What’s a probationary boyfriend? Speak plainly.” Another rap. The old lady’s movements were so swift Ji Ning hadn’t even reacted; by the time she withdrew her hand, another lump had formed on his head.

“It means someone who has to pass a test before becoming her boyfriend.” Ji Ning replied, voice tight with pain. Qin Mo wanted to speak up but, cowed by the old lady’s authority, only moved her lips without a word.

This time, Ji Ning saw her movement, but it was too late—now there was a third lump. “Probation? Brat, do you think this is a probation?”

Professor Christina looked at Qin Mo, who now stood protectively in front of Ji Ning, arms spread. Qin Mo spoke timidly, “Professor Christina, please don’t hit him anymore.”

Professor Christina snorted. “That brat only saved you once. In your situation, any student of thaumaturgy could have done it. At most, thank him. In the future, save him once and the debt is paid.”

Qin Mo, still head bowed, replied softly, “Yes, you’re right. But showing kindness to a perfect, elegant woman isn’t so remarkable. When I was at my most fragile, helpless, like a kitten fallen into a gutter, he was the one who pulled me from the abyss, held me without a trace of disdain. The others you mentioned—and even God—abandoned me, but he reached out when I needed it most.”

Despite her gentle tone, the girl shielding Ji Ning did not yield an inch.

Professor Christina was deeply impressed, but only shook her head. “I’ll never understand you young people. Even in my youth, taverns were done with tales of repaying kindness with one’s body. Look at him—dull as a fence post.”

Qin Mo lifted her head. “He isn’t dull at all. He’s clever and remarkable. I believe one day, even you will admire him. For now, please give us some time.”

Professor Christina let her admiration show. “First time you’ve dared talk back to me. Not bad.” Her tone shifted. “Pity it’s for this silly boy. Go copy the prayers you missed this morning—twice. That’s your punishment for contradicting your teacher.”

Qin Mo nodded but did not move.

Professor Christina laughed. “Don’t worry, I won’t hit him again.” Only then did Qin Mo, backpack slung, go to prepare her class materials.

Holding his head, Ji Ning realized that unless he called Sylvia to come beat up the old lady, he’d always be as obedient as a grandchild before Professor Christina. Her every move was sharp and precise—she must have been a masked cat burglar in her youth.

“Brat,” Professor Christina sneered at Ji Ning, her worldly experience seeing straight through his discontent.

“Are you just making fun of me on purpose?” Ji Ning protested, nursing his bruises. Did he look like the long-lost son of some old flame of hers?

“I’ve never heard of a boyfriend on probation. If you’re just out to play with her feelings, you’d best walk away yourself.”

“Can’t you look on the bright side? We’re a perfect match—why do I seem a heartless cad in your eyes?” The more Ji Ning thought, the more aggrieved he felt. Surely she was past menopause; why so much fire? These raps hurt more than a day’s worth of Sylvia’s lessons.

Professor Christina waved a hand. “Go on, and don’t let me see you again.”

Ji Ning stomped away, silently imagining every terrible fate an old lady could meet.

“If you keep thinking such disrespectful things about your elders, I won’t mind giving you a few more knocks.” Professor Christina’s voice, laced with threat, struck him like a blow.

Ji Ning shivered, hastily chanting silently, “Professor Christina is the most beautiful and charming professor I’ve ever met...” Sorry, Sylvia—if the old lady really can read minds, I’ll be going to class with a head full of lumps.

“Wait,” Professor Christina called after him. Ji Ning turned, puzzled.

“Never mind, go on.” She shook her head. At her age, she ought to be by the fire, leafing through diaries in regret, not meddling in young people’s affairs. Let them make their own mistakes.

Ji Ning nodded obediently, but suddenly scooped up Qin Mo and spun her around, making her utter a startled, endearing squeak. With childish triumph, he waved at Professor Christina. “Thank you for looking after my girlfriend all this time. From here on, please leave her to me.”

Before Professor Christina could reply, Ji Ning, having declared his claim, dashed out of the classroom. As he passed the blushing Qin Mo, he whispered, “I’ll pick you up for dinner tonight.”

So, two souls who would come to rely on and need one another were thus joined. There were no tortuous twists, for the most precious things are often found in quiet simplicity.

But this was only the start—the acceptance of a relationship is not its end, but its beginning. They had a long road ahead, these two souls who had never truly interacted. Once the honeymoon period ended and the glow of love faded, understanding each other would be as difficult as finding a penguin at the North Pole, and the experience of adapting to one another no less complex than the old man’s declaration, “Let there be light.”

From a purely rational perspective, love demands endless giving, with a return utterly unpredictable. That is why the wise avoid falling in love, and only fools repeat the same mistakes.

Exiting the teaching building, Ji Ning once more spotted that intimidating figure—Fifth Jue—seated on a bench by the path, this time with a white poetry volume in hand.

When Ji Ning approached, Fifth Jue closed the book. “I don’t mean to pry, but I happened to overhear your so-called heartfelt confession. Let me remind you—life is one folly after another, and love is two fools chasing each other.”

Just as Ji Ning was about to respond, Fifth Jue snapped his fingers. Ji Ning felt an invisible force grip his heart, cutting off even his breath. A falling leaf hung motionless midair; a fat cat, caught mid-stride, never set down its paw; time itself seemed frozen, though students in the distance walked on, oblivious to Fifth Jue’s anomaly.

Ji Ning could do nothing but watch as Fifth Jue rose and stopped before him, giving his shoulder a pat. His voice was as calm as if commenting on the weather. “Love is easy. When young, people fall in love on a whim, heedless of consequence. But everything rots and grows old. When you’re mature enough, you’ll see that most past pleasures are exquisite but fragile, that what you now treasure will fade with time. You will forget—maybe in months, maybe in years. Young love is no exception. In my experience, there may be lifelong enmity in this world, but no love that endures forever.”

Ji Ning fell silent for a moment, then looked up to meet his gaze. Though Fifth Jue’s pressure left him unable to breathe, the calm in his eyes said clearly: I will love whom I choose, alone and undaunted.

Fifth Jue smiled faintly, snapped his fingers again, and Ji Ning gasped for air like a drowning fish, the brief immobility leaving his mind muddled.

“For ordinary people, a fragile heart may long for support. But for us, emotion is a shackle—learn to master it.” Though his tone was gentle, Fifth Jue was no longer as friendly as before; without leaving room for reply, he turned and walked away.

Only when Fifth Jue’s figure had vanished did Ji Ning let himself slump onto the bench, exhausted. What a ridiculous fellow—why meddle in other people’s love? Ji Ning thought with some malice, perhaps this man’s solitary life had left him bitter towards couples.

He glared in Fifth Jue’s direction, but as soon as he regained control of his body, not a single sour-grapes fox leaped out to mock him.