I’m a Girl, He’s a Psycho, and This is Fine

The next morning dawned quietly, but the air in Room 415 was anything but peaceful.

Zhou Zhi was already snoring again, sprawled out like a starfish on his bed. The thin sheet had twisted around his waist, leaving one leg dangling over the edge like a poorly hung towel.

Shi Mo sat at the desk, sipping tea and pretending to read, but her thoughts were tangled.

Fu Yunshen sat nearby, elbows resting on the window ledge, silently staring outside at the misty sports field. His expression, as always, was unreadable.

But last night's words still echoed in her mind.

"You're late to that realization too."

Had he meant it as a joke? A subtle acknowledgment? A warning?

If he knew the truth about her identity… he hadn't reacted with judgment. Or rejection. Just quiet observation.

That was worse.

Because silence left room for everything she feared.

"Still thinking about it?" he asked suddenly, without turning his head.

Shi Mo stiffened slightly. "About what?"

"You've been stirring that tea for ten minutes."

She looked down at the lukewarm cup. "It helps me think."

"About?"

She hesitated.

Lied. "Zhou Zhi's math scores."

Fu Yunshen gave a soft snort. "That's a dead end."

A pause.

Then he added, "I meant what I said. Yesterday."

Shi Mo looked up. "About…?"

"That you're not fooling anyone."

Her fingers tightened around the cup.

He turned to face her now, his gaze steady. Not accusing. Not amused.

Just aware.

"You don't have to explain it," he said. "I'm not asking."

Her throat dried. "Then why say anything?"

"So you don't waste your energy pretending."

Shi Mo blinked.

Of all the responses she'd imagined—anger, mockery, disgust—this one never crossed her mind.

Fu Yunshen stood and stretched, then reached for his coat. "I'm heading out."

"To class?"

"No. Just out."

"Running from ghosts again?"

He smirked. "Aren't we all?"

And just like that, he was gone.

Shi Mo stared at the door after it closed, the room suddenly feeling too still.

Her heart thudded against her ribs—not from fear, but from the weight of being seen.

Truly seen.

And not rejected.

Just… understood.

Later that day, in the library, she found herself unable to focus.

The textbook in front of her was open to the same page for over half an hour.

Words blurred into each other.

Because her thoughts weren't in the library.

They were in Room 415.

On a boy with too many secrets and a gaze that saw too much.

And herself—a girl caught in a mission, wrapped in lies, and held together by sheer will.

How much longer could she balance on this tightrope?

Pretending to be someone she wasn't.

Protecting people who didn't know her truth.

Falling—just a little—every time Fu Yunshen looked at her like that.

The system chimed softly in her ear:

[Warning: Emotional trajectory approaching deviation from mission parameters.][Suggested Action: Reassess target engagement strategy.][Brotherhood Value +45 (Emotional Revelation)][Current Total: 770 / 1,000,000]

Shi Mo whispered, "Shut up."

Because for once, she didn't care about the mission.

Just the delicate balance she was barely maintaining.

And the slow, dangerous way it was starting to tip.