"I brought money." She took out a roll of bills, wanting to give it to Henry Webb, but Henry Webb shook his head. "Consider it my apology to you. Go ahead and eat."

The boy picked up his portion, found another seat, and took out a laptop, eating while tinkering with it. Brian Clark saw the logo on the notebook—it was an Apple.

At that time, most high school students still didn't own a cell phone. Occasionally, someone would bring a Xiaolingtong, only to have it confiscated by the homeroom teacher.

Henry Webb sat in a relaxed, unrestrained posture, one long leg bent and resting on the other knee, half his body stretched out, fully absorbed in working on his computer.

Boys ate in a rough, careless way, cheeks slightly puffed out. Brian Clark quietly nibbled on her burger, occasionally sneaking glances at him like a little thief, quickly darting her eyes away.

Her head was still throbbing, but Brian Clark forgot the pain. On this Mid-Autumn Festival in 2006, she and Henry Webb had appeared in the same space more than once—library, KFC. The boy's originally upright figure was now at a casual angle, his eyes lowered, lashes casting a crow-like shadow on his face. It was a strange sight, and Brian Clark felt little bursts of happiness welling up from all directions in her heart.

In that instant, Brian Clark suddenly had the thought of wanting to be connected to him in some way.

Originally, she hadn't agreed to Jason Walker's plan. She couldn't say exactly what was wrong with it, but she felt it wasn't right. She couldn't deceive Henry Webb; she didn't want to deceive anyone, let alone Henry Webb. Was Henry Webb only worth those ten books? No, he was priceless.

Even though she felt that, no matter how many love letters she wrote, the end result would be like a stone sinking into the sea, Brian Clark even suspected that Henry Webb had already received a whole bag of love letters.

Lost in her thoughts, the eyes behind the laptop unintentionally looked up, meeting Brian Clark's deliberately directed gaze. Their eyes met briefly before the boy quickly looked down again—it was just a fleeting moment in his train of thought.

But Brian Clark was startled, and soon, a deep sense of disappointment welled up inside her.

Henry Webb was the most unique top student in the school, living up to his reputation. He always did his own thing in an orderly way, as if no one could disturb him.

She really wondered what Henry Webb would do when he grew up.

Brian Clark thought this out of nowhere, and got ketchup on her wrist.

But why didn't he go home for dinner on Mid-Autumn Festival? It was really puzzling.

Outside the window, the plane trees were a mix of green and yellow. Looking up, the branches and leaves divided the sky into patches of delicate blue. Another summer had passed. Brian Clark thought silently, eating her food very slowly.

"Classmate, can you watch my stuff for a moment? I'm going to the restroom." At some point, Henry Webb had come over. Brian Clark quickly turned her head, pulling her gaze back from the window.

She hurriedly said, "Sure."

Henry Webb casually asked, "By the way, what's your name?"

He finally asked her name. Brian Clark didn't speak, but instead took out paper and pen from her backpack, as if performing some solemn ritual, wrote down two characters, and softly said, "This is my name."

"Brian Clark?" Henry Webb read it aloud, raising his eyebrows at her.

It was as if those two characters suddenly gained magical power, spoken from his lips like a kind of blessing. Brian Clark's nose broke out in a fine sweat—he finally knew her name.

On the table, the boy's things were scattered about with no particular order: a quietly lying pen, the still-glowing laptop, and a backpack casually placed on the floor.

Brian Clark stared openly at those things, not blinking. Every glance felt precious.

When Henry Webb came back out, he saw the girl sitting upright and proper, back straight, like a sentry on duty.

He couldn't help but smile, thanked Brian Clark, and then sat down, busying himself with something.

Time ticked by, second by second. Brian Clark noticed that Henry Webb had no intention of leaving. He rarely looked up, and occasionally closed his eyes to rub his temples.

Soon, Brian Clark fell asleep on the table. The library would open at 2:30, so she planned to nap at KFC for a while.

In her backpack was a small alarm clock.

So, when the alarm rang, Brian Clark thought she was at home and mumbled "Grandma," then opened her eyes. It took her a few seconds to figure out where she was, and she lifted her face, half of it marked red from sleep.

Just as she was waking up, her first reaction was to look at Henry Webb's seat. The boy was packing up his things. Sensing her gaze, he looked up, meeting the girl's sleepy, confused expression, and smiled.

That made Brian Clark panic, and she instinctively forced out a stiff smile.

As it turned out, their plans coincided again—they left one after the other, both heading to the library.

They crossed the traffic lights one after the other, passed the street corner one after the other. Brian Clark could clearly see Henry Webb's back. Sometimes, a few people would come between them, and in a blink, the boy's figure would reappear in her line of sight. It felt like a scene from a silent movie.

The boy soon noticed she was heading in the same direction. Clearly surprised, he asked, "You're not going home?"

She hadn't expected him to ask. The wind blew, and Brian Clark's hair was tousled. She had meant to say, "I haven't finished my homework," but as the words reached her lips, for some reason, they turned into a question: "What about you?"

Realizing this, Brian Clark quickly tried to correct herself: "Ah, no... I—I haven't finished my notes yet. I think the library is a pretty good environment."