Notes of Youth

The school auditorium was bathed in soft afternoon light, filtered through high windows that dust never seemed to leave. Rows of chairs had been neatly arranged, and a white banner hung above the stage, reading in bold calligraphy:

"Future & Path: Alumni Talk Series"

For once, students weren't grumbling about the mandatory assembly. The hall buzzed with quiet excitement—some curious, some skeptical. After all, alumni talks were usually dry and predictable. But today's guest… was rumored to be someone different.

Lin Keqing sat in the third row, hands folded neatly over her notebook. Next to her, Chen Yuke slouched with his legs stretched out, eyes flicking over the crowd.

"I heard this guy's from Beihang," he murmured. "You think he's gonna talk about aerodynamics for an hour?"

Keqing smiled faintly. "I think he's supposed to be inspiring."

"Hm. Inspiration and equations don't mix."

She was about to reply when the side doors opened—and a figure stepped onto the stage.

He wasn't what anyone expected.

Tall, broad-shouldered, dressed in a dark wool coat and slacks, the man had a quiet ease to his stride. He looked like he'd just stepped off a train from somewhere colder. His hair was messier than polished, but his eyes carried a calm that silenced the room.

Except—his eyes sparkled. Not like his brother's.

Yes, everyone noticed the resemblance immediately.

Whispers spread through the audience like ripples:

"Is that…?""He looks like…""Wait, is that Gu Yuyan's brother?"

The principal took the mic and smiled.

"Please welcome back one of our proud alumni—Gu Yanze."

Keqing blinked in surprise. Chen Yuke sat upright, wide awake now.

From the far back, Gu Yuyan entered quietly, slipping into a seat alone. His expression didn't shift, but his knuckles tightened around the pen in his lap.

Gu Yanze approached the podium, looking over the sea of uniforms. And then, with a casual grin, he began:

"I won't waste your time with GPAs or life advice you won't remember. Let's be honest—half of you are here because your teachers made you come."

A low wave of laughter rippled through the crowd.

"I'm Gu Yanze. I used to sit where you're sitting now, about six years ago. I studied engineering at Beihang. But before all that, I was a mess—just like you."

He spoke with a natural rhythm—confident, a little sarcastic, and deeply human. He talked about failing his first physics competition, about switching between literature and science five times, about crying quietly on the subway after receiving his first rejection letter.

But then he smiled.

"And I also remember the first person who said: 'You're allowed to not have it all figured out.' That sentence saved me."

In the audience, Lin Keqing found herself leaning forward, unexpectedly drawn in. Even Le Yahan, two rows back, had stopped fiddling with her phone.

Chen Yuke glanced at her, then back at the stage, expression unreadable.

Then came the Q&A.

A student from the Natural Sciences class raised her hand.

"You said you had a brother at this school. What was he like when you were here?"

Gu Yanze chuckled.

"Yuyan? Oh, he was terrifying. He'd tape equations to the ceiling above his bed. He didn't talk much, but I once saw him explain quantum mechanics to our goldfish."

The hall erupted in laughter.

"But he's a good kid. Smarter than me, maybe. Just… terrible at saying how he feels."

From the back row, Gu Yuyan looked away. His eyes were blank. But Keqing, seated far in front, felt a tug of something sharp in her chest.

After the session, students poured out into the corridor, buzzing with impressions and opinions.

"He's so different from Yuyan.""He's like… funny? And warm?""I didn't even know Yuyan had a brother."

Keqing waited by the exit, holding her notebook close. She wasn't sure why—maybe curiosity, maybe something else.

Gu Yanze was surrounded by a few younger students asking about college life. But then, his eyes caught hers.

He walked over.

"You're Lin Keqing, right?"

She blinked. "How did you—?"

"Yuyan mentioned you once." He gave a lopsided smile. "Said you corrected his handwriting."

Keqing flushed. "It was just one time. His lowercase g's looked like sixes."

Gu Yanze laughed. "He said the same thing."

Before she could say anything else, a voice spoke behind them.

"You done showing off yet?"

Gu Yuyan stood there, hands in his pockets. His voice was flat, but not cold.

Yanze turned. "Relax, little bro. I only embarrassed you once."

"I counted three times."

Keqing stepped slightly back as the two exchanged looks—half banter, half challenge. There was no malice, but there was a tension, like a thread stretched just tight enough not to snap.

Then Gu Yanze turned back to her.

"Take care of him, yeah? He's good at pretending nothing bothers him. But he's also the kind of person who bottles everything until it explodes."

Keqing didn't reply.

And then he left, slinging his bag over his shoulder and vanishing into the hallway.

Meanwhile, just outside the auditorium, Chen Yuke had wandered toward the courtyard. He wasn't looking for anyone in particular—just air. Noise.

But then, he saw her.

Le Yahan stood by the vending machines, laughing at something a boy from the Natural Science class had said. He was tall, slightly awkward, but she smiled at him like he was funny. The sound of her laughter floated across the space—clear, bright, careless.

Something in Chen Yuke's chest pinched.

He didn't know why.

It was just a conversation, right?

But he turned away before she could see him, slipping back through the corridor like a ghost no one noticed.

Later that day, when the sky had begun to slip into its orange hush, Lin Keqing walked alongside Gu Yuyan down the path behind the library. The trees were bare now, branches reaching like quiet fingers into the sky.

Neither of them spoke for a while.

Then she said, gently:

"Your brother's very... different from you."

He didn't respond immediately. His hands were in his coat pockets, eyes focused straight ahead.

"He's the sun in every room," Yuyan finally said. "And I'm... not."

Keqing looked at him.

"Is that how you see yourself?"

"No," he said. "That's how everyone else sees us. I just stopped correcting them."

They walked a few more steps.

"But I guess I didn't mind today," he added. "He didn't lie. Just... told the parts that didn't hurt."

Keqing smiled softly.

"You know, you don't have to be the sun to matter to someone."

For the first time that day, he looked at her.

And in the fading light, she thought his eyes looked just a little less tired.