The Calm Before the Storm

Just like that, Yun Lan took the lunchbox, washed so thoroughly it was almost too clean and even felt cool to the touch, and pushed open the classroom door again. The afternoon sunlight slanted in, dividing the desks and floor into geometric patterns of light and shadow. The chalk dust in the air seemed to have settled somewhat, and the classroom was filled with the lazy atmosphere of a lunch break just ending, with no one quite ready to get back to studying.

He returned to his seat, smiled naturally at Honami Ichinose, who was looking his way, and tucked the lunchbox under his desk. Honami returned his smile warmly, seeming to set aside her earlier misgivings for the moment as she turned her attention back to her open notebook.

Afternoon classes began on time. The history teacher spoke in a flat voice about the Meiji Restoration; his writing on the board was neat but lifeless. The math teacher worked through complex formulas on the blackboard, chalk tapping rhythmically against it. Then the classical literature teacher recited ancient Chinese texts with a long, drawn-out cadence. Everything proceeded as usual, so bland it was almost boring.

Clouds drifted slowly past the window, and the light shifted almost imperceptibly with them. Birds occasionally darted by, casting fleeting shadows. A student in the front row tried to stifle a yawn; from the back came the rustle of pens across paper, occasionally mingled with the soft sound of turning pages. It was the most typical of afternoons at an ordinary college-preparatory high school.

And yet, to Yun Lan, this surface calm was like a scene seen through thick frosted glass. The teachers' lectures, the writing on the board, the small movements of his classmates—all seemed to come from some distant, hazy world. His thoughts simply couldn't stay on his textbooks or the blackboard.

Because, according to the chilling message he had just received, his three "dear junior sisters"—or, as he was forced to call them in certain more complicated circumstances, his "dear little sisters"—had probably already set out for Japan.

This was no longer an abstract worry. It had become a concrete, urgent countdown. Yun Lan walked through the somewhat noisy campus after school, surrounded by students heading to club activities, meeting up to go shopping, or hurrying home. Their laughter and conversation brimmed with the vitality of their age. But to him, the sounds seemed muffled and far away, as if they were coming through an invisible barrier.

His thoughts had long since flown past the school buildings, sports field, and cherry trees before crossing the ocean and coming to rest on the three younger sisters he had taken in back in China.

Yi Jiang, the white-haired girl who always wore a sweet smile but had a stubborn look in her eyes—was she sitting on the plane now, resting her chin in her hand as her scarlet eyes gazed out at the clouds beyond the window, calculating how much longer until she could see her "runaway" young master? With her personality, there was no way she would simply wait quietly after learning where he was. She would be the most proactive one, and the likeliest to take direct action.

Yi Xuan, his lively little sister, was perhaps sitting quietly beside her older sister, eating something. Beneath her hearty appetite lay a determination that was just as formidable. Her arrival usually meant she didn't want to let me go either.

And then there was Ye Shunguang... The girl he had brought back from the orphanage and raised by his side somehow felt even more dangerous than Yi Jiang and Yi Xuan.

Yun Lan's fingers unconsciously brushed the edge of the phone in his pocket, as if he could still feel the vibration of the cold message from Fufu. Yi Jiang and Yi Xuan's arrival might bring a hot, chaotic storm of emotions, but Ye Shunguang joining them was like a bomb quietly dropped right into the eye of that storm.

What kind of normal person would use invisible ink to write a marriage contract in a letter of apprenticeship?!

He had made this complaint to himself countless times. This wasn't a bashful love letter from a girl with a crush, nor was it a token of a moment's impulsive confession. It was a meticulously planned scheme. If I hadn't sensed that something was off and checked it back then...

He would have been completely stuck with Xiao Guang. When had this girl's feelings even changed?

Compared to Yi Jiang, who might as well have written "Young Master belongs to me" across her face, and Yi Xuan, who kept her feelings buried in her tranquil gaze, Ye Shunguang's "danger" was subtler—and more... methodical. No matter how intense Yi Jiang and Yi Xuan's feelings were, he could hide, stall, or try to talk things through and guide them.

But Ye Shunguang's feelings for him seemed more twisted, even though she had always seemed like a well-behaved little angel.

He could imagine the scene when they all converged here: three obsessions of different kinds, all aimed at him, colliding at this high school. Just imagining it made the air in the classroom seem a little thinner.

He unconsciously slowed his pace, his gaze sweeping over the seemingly ordinary surroundings: the security at the school gate, the layout of the classroom buildings, possible blind spots in the surveillance coverage, and the paths that could make convenient entrances and exits for an "accident." As someone who had been transported to another world—and, more importantly, as a senior who knew what those three "little sisters" were capable of—he habitually began assessing the surroundings and planning for possible emergencies.

The school's ordinary defenses would probably be useless against them. Yi Jiang's perceptiveness and decisiveness, Yi Xuan's unusual talent in certain areas, the methods Ye Shunguang might have hidden... None of them were things ordinary students or even teachers could handle.

"I have to do something to prepare..." Yun Lan murmured, his voice fading into the cool evening breeze. It wasn't a matter of fighting them; that would be pointless and wasn't what he wanted. He needed to guide them, ease the tension, and set boundaries, doing his best to keep this inevitable "reunion" within limits that wouldn't completely disrupt the school, expose too many abnormalities, or let things slide into an even more awkward situation.

He needed information, and more importantly, time. Fufu's message gave him the result, but no details about what had happened. He needed to know their exact itinerary, how they might enter the country, and... just how much more "help" his mother had given them.

At the thought, Yun Lan couldn't help rubbing his brow. His dear mother's "care" was always so efficient and so completely unexpected.

He looked up at the sky. The sun was slowly sinking, painting the horizon a warm orange, yet Yun Lan could almost see the storm clouds of upheaval in his personal life quietly approaching behind that brilliant glow.

The peaceful school days were like the sunset's afterglow: beautiful, but fleeting. When the sun rose again tomorrow, he might find himself facing more than textbooks, exams, and easygoing classmates.

Those three "dear little sisters" on their way here were bringing their own stories, obsessions, and tangled bonds with him, turning distant troubles into a reality drawing closer with every step. And Yun Lan knew he didn't have much time left to waste on sighing or complaining.