Claire Daniels had her hair styled into two high pigtails, each wrapped with a long red ribbon. She wore a bright yellow dress with light green sequins, and on her feet were a pair of bright red doll shoes paired with white knee-high socks. At this moment, she was standing near the front door of the bus with Zoe Young. Occasionally, when the bus passed through a dimly lit area, she could vaguely see her own wide, red-painted mouth and blush like a monkey’s bottom reflected in the glass, as well as something sticky on her eyelashes—she didn’t know what it was, and she didn’t dare touch it.

Most importantly, judging by the direction of the commotion, she knew that Scott Zack was on the same bus as her, near the back door. Claire Daniels didn’t dare look in that direction; she just tried hard to turn her head away, showing her back to where he was—even though this posture made it hard for her to hold onto the handrail, so she swayed back and forth on the bus, occasionally grabbing tightly onto Zoe Young’s sleeve. Zoe Young had no idea about Claire Daniels’s complicated thoughts; she just felt that Claire Daniels was especially talkative today. Although she usually had plenty to say to her, today she was even unusually enthusiastic toward those gossipy girls she normally disdained. Claire Daniels kept making silly jokes, and every few sentences she would complain, “How could the team counselor paint someone like this? I look like a ghost, a total ghost…”

Zoe Young was extremely puzzled. Was she nervous about the performance? Just like she was when they first met. Claire Daniels was indeed nervous, but not for the reason Zoe Young imagined.

She kept explaining how ugly her makeup was, as if trying to cover up, simply because she was afraid someone would tell Scott Zack, or gossip, “Hey, Claire Daniels looks so ugly.”

It was just that simple. And yet, so complicated. The mood of a young girl, swaying with every start and stop of the bus.

The team counselor sat idly behind the big stage in the square with a few young performers, while the other drum corps members piled their instruments to the side and sat on the ground. Zoe Young saw Emily Xavier quietly pinning that brown hair clip next to her little braid again—“This is a real tortoiseshell hair clip, real tortoiseshell, really, it’s precious.” —Emily Xavier had been repeating this sentence all week.

Looking up, she saw Scott Zack and Andrew Lane walking over. Their snow-white uniforms, from a distance, looked a bit like those of officers.

Andrew Lane and Scott Zack, the two conductors, would go up on stage to lead the drum corps in the prelude before the four reciters came out, then step down to welcome the four on stage. Finally, after the recitation, they would go up again to conduct.

So, they were also called over by the team counselor to wait backstage. Claire Daniels was no longer the little girl who used to get stage fright four years ago. Over the years, like Zoe Young, she had participated in many events, big and small. She wasn’t exactly a battle-hardened veteran, but she was experienced. She hadn’t been nervous at first, but now everything was different—what if she made a fool of herself? What if she embarrassed herself in front of him? Her palms were icy cold, yet sweaty. She wiped them on her dress, but it was slippery and useless; her hands were still sticky and damp.

More importantly, she didn’t dare face him. It took courage to look at people with this ghostly face. When she saw Emily Xavier also trying to sit with her back to him, transforming from a nonstop chatterbox to a proper young lady—Claire Daniels realized for the first time that no matter how much girls might dislike each other, their thoughts were always connected.

All of Claire Daniels’s unease was noticed by Zoe Young. Suddenly, she felt a bit worried for her friend.

Zoe Young sighed helplessly, and when she turned around, the first thing she saw was that Scott Zack from the drum corps had also been made up by the team counselor to look like a ghost.

Jie Jie, you don’t need to hide anymore; you’re all in the same boat. Meanwhile, Andrew Lane was sitting awkwardly with his head tilted back, lips tightly pressed together. The team counselor was gripping his chin with her left hand and outlining his lips with a lip liner in her right. Zoe Young suddenly burst out laughing.

Andrew Lane’s face, powdered, looked even paler. The moment the team counselor let go, he quickly lowered his head and muttered, “I need to use the bathroom,” then turned and ran out.

Even though he knew he’d be stopped and shown off by the other boys outside—still, for Andrew Lane, being laughed at by a group was far better than being laughed at by a certain someone.

Claire Daniels and Emily Xavier were very quiet, Fiona James had gone out with the team counselor, leaving only Zoe Young and three other boys staring at each other.

She suddenly felt very irritable. She didn’t know why, but Zoe Young didn’t like Scott Zack. She thought he was greasy—even though, in appearance, he was indeed better looking than most boys, and not greasy at all. It was just an inexplicable intuition.

She turned and asked Claire Daniels, “Do you want to go to the bathroom?” Claire Daniels shook her head, so Zoe Young stood up and went out by herself. When she reached the outdoor sink and turned on the tap to wash her hands, she suddenly heard a flurry of footsteps behind her. It turned out the event organizers were directing the bouquet team to adjust their positions, and everyone was getting up and moving toward Zoe Young. She turned back and continued to rinse her arms with cool water—completely absent-minded, not knowing what else to do.

Somehow, her thoughts drifted back to that kiss. Zoe Young felt the air around her suddenly grow a little hot. She closed her eyes and told herself—Just this once… I’ll be shameless just this once.

In her imagination, a face drew closer and closer, so close she could almost feel the warm, fresh scent on her skin. It was Nephrite’s face. Zoe Young had never told Tina Young that the one she liked wasn’t Tuxedo Mask, that man who acted so cool. She liked Nephrite, one of the Four Kings of the Dark Kingdom—called “seaweed head” by Claire Daniels, the dark prince who always coldly said to the black crystal, “The stars know everything.” The only time Zoe Young cried while watching Sailor Moon was when Nephrite died. He was a villain, but he fell in love with Bunny Moon’s friend Natalie. Zoe Young thought, that must be love, even though he never said it, even when his comrades betrayed him and kidnapped Natalie to threaten him, he only awkwardly said, “What does it matter to me if that woman lives or dies”—but he still went to save her, and lost his life.

When Natalie, teary-eyed, timidly asked the dying Nephrite lying under the tree, “Does your Dark Kingdom… have days off? Can we go get ice cream together?”

Zoe Young’s tears flowed endlessly. Imitating Natalie, she softly asked in her mind, “Can we go get ice cream together?” Suddenly, she heard a burst of laughter.

Only then did Zoe Young turn around and see a boy from the bouquet team in a red performance outfit running away from her. The wind from his running made his clothes billow, outlining his thin frame even more clearly. As he ran, he kept looking back, as if eager to see Zoe Young’s reaction. The boys around him waved their bouquets and cheered exaggeratedly, while the girls blushed and chattered, everyone unable to hide their excitement. Later, when Zoe Young recalled all this, though everyone’s faces were blurred, the slightly flustered feeling of that moment remained vivid. Suddenly, a white figure appeared out of nowhere.

Andrew Lane grabbed the little boy’s collar in one swift motion. The momentum made the boy choke on his own collar and bounce back awkwardly, bending over and coughing, tears and snot streaming down his face. Andrew Lane didn’t let go, and everyone watched in astonishment, the scene falling silent.

Andrew Lane’s voice was lazy, with a hint of cool bravado. “Are you looking for trouble?”

The little boy was so scared he didn’t dare make a sound, just kept coughing. After all, he was just a little kid. Only then did the other extras rush over to pull them apart, and the little boy fled in panic. Andrew Lane, however, smiled at everyone and said, “Follow the teacher’s instructions and get to your places, quickly!” His voice wasn’t loud, but it carried a hint of authority. Soon, the crowd dispersed. He had even washed off his makeup himself.

Zoe Young looked at him in surprise. Andrew Lane looked elsewhere, his face slightly red, and said in a nonchalant tone, “He’s from my class. I apologize for him.” Zoe Young tilted her head and smiled, “What did he do?” Andrew Lane opened his mouth in shock, staring straight at her—“Are you kidding?” “I really don’t know. When everyone laughed, I turned around and just saw him running away.” “But, he, just now, he hit, hit your…” Andrew Lane’s voice grew quieter and quieter. “What?”

“…butt…” he mumbled almost inaudibly. “Oh?” Zoe scratched the back of her head, “I didn’t know, I didn’t feel it.” Andrew Lane’s face turned red, his eyes widened, and he turned away again, striding toward the door. “Andrew Lane!”

“What?” The boy who turned back had a hint of barely noticeable joy and shyness on his face. “Thank you.”

Later, Zoe Young couldn’t remember Nephrite’s face, nor that line, “What does it matter to me if that woman lives or dies,” but the image of Andrew Lane, struggling to say the word “butt” in a refined way, always remained in a corner of her heart.