Approaching four-thirty in the afternoon, the sun after midday had already tipped down from the sky. Through the towering floor-to-ceiling window, it slanted across one side of the classroom. The color of the light turned deeper, tinged with a golden hue of orange-red, giving the classroom a touch of softness.
The glow shimmered tenderly on the desktop, the empty chairs, and the stairs, as if it was quietly telling stories about time.
In the back row of the classroom, only Hyperion and Lanci sat behind the somewhat barren, wooden desks.
Hyperion didn't know why Lanci was looking at her.
However, after pondering a bit, she matched Lanci's gaze, staring into his pretty, jade-green pupils, and advised:
"Lanci, you shouldn't meddle in my affairs in the future. You have no need to get involved…"
Yet, Lanci showed no signs of being offended after hearing this. He just blinked, his eyes still calm and steady.
