Chapter 4: The Gathering Storm

Clara’s voice was neither loud nor soft, but it was just enough to throw Julian’s heart into disarray.

"Julian," Clara repeated, "You like me, don't you?"

The hand Julian had been using to support her arm instantly lost its strength. He averted his gaze for a split second, a smile forming on his face that was both awkward and shy.

"You found out, huh? And here I thought I was hiding it so well."

"You were one step away from posting a public announcement on the school forum," Clara said helplessly. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because I was afraid of being rejected, of course," Julian scratched his head. "I wasn't sure if you liked me. If I confessed and you said no, wouldn't that be incredibly embarrassing?"

"Then calling me 'Clarie' or 'Honey' whenever you felt like it—that wasn't embarrassing?"

"I never dared to call you 'Honey'..." Julian stole a glance at Clara, tentatively reaching out to take her hand. "Honey?"

Clara didn't pull away, though her mouth was busy reciting grand principles about how students should focus on their studies. Julian gave a vague nod of agreement, his brow and the corners of his eyes brimming with the smile of someone who had successfully gotten his way. Clara knew Julian was using a "slow-boil" approach—the intimate nicknames, the ambiguous gestures, the slowly closing distance. These were all tactics Julian used so that she would grow accustomed to him, accustomed to having him by her side.

"When did it start?" Clara asked, unable to resist the cliché question.

"The opening ceremony, when you gave the speech as the student representative," Julian squinted, as if lost in memory. "You said, 'We must all march toward a tomorrow more glorious than those who came before us.'"

"So you were moved by my grand ambitions?"

"I was conquered by your 'girl boss' energy."

Clara cursed him under her breath as they walked together toward the rooftop railing. Students were scattered across the playground in groups of twos and threes—some looking stressed, others laughing. The setting sun stretched their shadows long across the ground until they merged, resembling a vibrant, never-ending river. Clara turned, and seeing Julian’s youthful, energetic face, she reached out to hook her pinky finger with his.

"Julian, we’ll be in the same class next semester."

"We’ll always be in the same class."

"Not in university. You want to study finance, and I don't," Clara teased intentionally. "I want to study Artificial Intelligence. Why don't you consider changing your major, Mr. Genius?"

"Oh..." Julian feigned disappointment. "If I change my major, who's going to invest in your robot research in the future?"

Clara laughed and went to swat him, but her wrist was caught. Julian gazed at her, his eyes filled with nothing but Clara’s reflection.

"Clarie," he whispered, "we’re going to walk a very, very long way together."

If you asked Clara what her answer was at that moment, she would tell you she had forgotten it. The wind on the rooftop was too strong; fragile vows are scattered as soon as they are whispered.

High school was strict about "puppy love," so their relationship didn't officially begin until university. They hadn't managed to get into the same school as planned, choosing instead the best institutions for their respective majors. Fortunately, both were in Boston. During weekend breaks, the two could always find time to meet. The young couple enjoyed a period of blissful romance until Julian’s mother, Eleanor Hayes, ran into them at the school gate while bringing her son some clothes. Eleanor stood a short distance away, watching her son fuss over Clara with care. She didn't do anything at that moment, but after returning home, she instructed her assistant to look into Clara’s background.

The Hayes family was wealthy and powerful. It was this way before she married in, it was this way for Clara, and it would be this way for anyone else trying to enter the family.

Eleanor didn't intend to hide it from Julian. When her son questioned her, she remained calm and indifferent.

"Sit down and have some soup first, Julian. Look at how anxious you are; you haven't even changed your clothes."

"Mom, does it have to be like this?"

"If I don't do it, your father will." Eleanor wiped her hands. "Clara is a good girl, and I quite like her. But Julian, you can date her, but you cannot marry her."

Julian stood silently by the dining table, feeling as if he were staring at a massive, silent cage.

"You are a child of the Hayes family. You are very smart, Julian. I don't need to say more..."

"I’m not willing," Julian let out a cold laugh. "If I had a choice, I wouldn't want to be a child of the Hayes family either."

"But you don't have a choice," Eleanor rubbed her temples. "You don't have a choice, and neither do I. Julian, you know your father’s temperament. Breaking up with that girl for a reason before he finds out is better than letting him find out and forcing her away. Her parents are locals, right? They aren't from an exceptionally wealthy family. If you make them leave this city because of you, have you thought about how much she and her parents would have to pay? Julian, dating is dating, and marriage is marriage. They are not the same."

Julian opened his mouth, suddenly finding himself unable to offer a rebuttal. In the face of power and money, love seemed to become the most useless thing of all.

But the young are always stubborn; he believed things would work themselves out. Although Julian hadn't introduced Clara to his family in detail, she had guessed the gist of it. Not wanting a rift to grow between them, she chose Christmas Eve to go see Julian, carrying two cans of beer. The young couple huddled together in the winter night, pouring their hearts out to each other. They sincerely believed that love could conquer all—that even if Julian’s father showed up with a sword, the two of them wouldn't part.

Later, they remained in a stalemate with Eleanor for a while. When Julian’s father, Richard Hayes, found out, he went directly to Clara. Using the most cliché plot from a novel, he provoked the most intense rebellion from the young man. It was the summer after their senior year. Richard locked Julian in the house, thinking that with Clara busy with her internship, the two would naturally grow apart over time. But he didn't expect Julian to climb over the wall in the middle of the night and move into Clara’s apartment. He stayed there for over half a year. Furious, Richard cut off all of Julian’s financial resources to force his son home. Knowing this, Clara flipped the fried egg in the pan.

"So, my little master, you’d better be on your best behavior lately. You’re currently living off me."

"Then will you dump me, Sister?"

"I’m younger than you. Watch your language."

"Then will you dump me, Little Sister?"

"If you put that much salt in the fried eggs again tomorrow, I might kick you out in a fit of rage."

Julian rolled around on the sofa clutching a pillow, laughing heartlessly.

Days passed like this. Clara’s job was basically settled, and Julian found a part-time gig. However, after graduation, the pressures of rent and living expenses hit them all at once. To make things more comfortable for the two of them, Julian chose to deliver food at night. Clara clutched his helmet worriedly, advising him to forget about it. Julian curled his finger and flicked Clara’s forehead.

"I have to work hard. Otherwise, if you get upset one day and kick me out, what am I supposed to do?"