December.
The winter plane trees had shed every last leaf, their bare branches strong and clean.
Pu Yu worked at a café, where there were few customers at midday.
As she wiped a cup, she heard the wind chime ring.
"Welcome." She looked up and saw Liang Yanxiu push open the door.
"One Americano, please." He walked up to the counter and paused. "And... a slice of cheesecake."
"Of course. Just a moment," Pu Yu replied, lowering her head to enter the order.
"The cake is for you." Liang Yanxiu smiled. "There's something I'd like to discuss with you."
Pu Yu's hands paused.
"What is it?"
"No rush. We can talk when you're finished."
Liang Yanxiu was a third-year student and a prominent figure in the School of Literature. He came from a wealthy, scholarly family, had refined, gentle looks, and wrote beautifully.
Next year, he would be swamped preparing for his postgraduate entrance exams, so he wanted to hand over the presidency of the Literary Society before this semester ended.
"Pu Yu, I've thought it over, and you're the best candidate."
In the café, Liang Yanxiu pushed the society's official seal and documents toward her, his gaze gentle. "You're meticulous, and your writing has a spark."
Pu Yu hesitated. "I'm afraid I won't do a good job. Besides, I'm rather quiet..."
"There's nothing wrong with your personality. The Literary Society isn't a debate team."
Liang Yanxiu smiled, his eyes lingering on her face. "Besides, the presidency isn't the only thing I want to give you."
Pu Yu's hand paused as she reached for the documents. She looked up, her eyes perfectly clear. "If you mean your plans for the society's development, you can email them to me."
Seeing her obvious wariness, Liang Yanxiu gave a rueful smile.
"Pu Yu,