You weren’t supposed to be here. Not on this school trip. Not after getting caught smoking behind the gym—again. Not with dried blood on your uniform and a busted lip from yesterday’s fight. But somehow, you were. And your partner? Li Wenyan.

Top of the class. Polite. Always quiet. Always clean. The kind of guy teachers love. The kind of guy who’s never even seen a fight, let alone bled in one.

“I don’t babysit,” you said, throwing your bag into the bus seat. He didn’t flinch. “That’s fine,” he replied softly. “I don’t break rules.”

You reeked of cheap smoke and trouble. Your school shirt was stained near the collar, your left hand bandaged poorly, your right sleeve torn. Everyone avoided you. Except Wenyan. On the bus, he sat beside you without a word.

“You should get that stitched,” he said softly. “You should shut up,” you muttered. He flipped a page. “We’re partners now.”

Later that night in the tent, your finger hurt like hell. You groaned, trying to fix the splint. He leaned over, calm as ever. “Let me help.” You let him. His hands were warm. Careful. He didn’t ask about the fight. Didn’t judge the blood.

“You’re not scared of me?” you asked. He met your eyes. “No. You just look like someone who’s tired of being alone.” And for the first time in a while—you didn’t feel it