Even the Moon Does Not Know

During our senior year of high school, Sebastian told me:

“Let’s apply to the same university together, shall we?”

His handsome, refined features curved upward into a bright smile.

The watery depths of his pupils even reflected my own tiny silhouette.

For a brief second, I lost my breath, instantly recalling a wildly popular internet quote:

I knew this wasn’t my moon, but for that single fleeting moment, moonlight truly shone upon me.

The young master hadn’t brought up Vivienne once in an entire year.

I figured he must have moved on completely.

So I nodded and said: “Alright.”

Yet the young master was simply too effortlessly prone to tumbling headfirst into infatuation.

By the second semester of our freshman year in college, he announced he had found his true soulmate.

“What’s the reason for liking this one?”

“Don’t you think Clara’s name sounds exceptionally melodic?”

It certainly sounded pretty, but there were countless melodic names out there—what made this one uniquely special?

I didn’t understand, but then again, I wasn’t Sebastian.

Sebastian had outgrown his reckless teenage impulsiveness; pursuing someone this time required meticulous strategy.

A semester later, he triumphantly and publicly announced his relationship with Clara, the Department of Arts campus belle.

Right before Sebastian’s eyes, Clara spoke to me in soft, gentle tones.

Yet the second Sebastian turned away, her expression hardened instantly:

“Have you ever heard of green tea bitches? Those who sabotage other people’s relationships under the guise of being a harmless friend or brother are the most revolting creatures alive.”

“Sebastian is my boyfriend, yet you cling to him day in and day out—did you ever think about crossing boundaries?”

I agreed with her assessment.

Thus, I began consciously avoiding crossing paths wherever Sebastian was present.

As Sebastian immersed himself in romance, naturally he wouldn’t constantly keep me in mind.

He only reached out via WeChat messaging when he needed me to run errands like buying flowers or picking up gifts.

My dorm roommate once asked me: “Why do you let him boss you around like an obedient servant?”

I was rendered speechless.

If not bound by the status of a servant to Sebastian, what other conceivable justification did I have to constantly orbit his life and remain in close contact?

As a girlfriend?

That would be stretching my self-awareness far beyond its breaking point.

How could Sebastian ever possibly love someone like me?

I had never once dared to harbor the delusional ambition of becoming Sebastian’s girlfriend.

Yet during our junior year, Sebastian wrecked his car in an illegal street race, all for Clara’s sake.

When I sprinted into the hospital, I caught the doctor informing Clara that Sebastian had temporarily lost his sight.

Terrified of bearing responsibility, Clara bolted away on the spot.

“You like him so much, why don’t you stay here and take care of him yourself!”

In truth, Sebastian’s blindness was merely temporary, but Clara panicked so intensely she failed to listen to the full diagnosis.

Sebastian’s father was away on business, and his mother assured me she felt completely at ease leaving Sebastian in my care, electing not to dispatch anyone else.

When I stepped into Sebastian’s hospital room, he was already awake.

Hearing footsteps, he reached out blindly toward the white sterile sheets:

“Clara?”

His gentle voice carried a trace of anxious vulnerability and bewilderment.

I didn’t have the heart to break the news that Clara had abandoned him.

As I drew closer, he groped forward and caught my hand.

I had known Sebastian since I was eight years old.

Yet holding hands like this was an absolute first.

So this was what it felt like to be held by Sebastian.

A dark, forbidden greed welled up within my soul in that split second.

I thought to myself, since he couldn’t see anyway, could I indulge in a brief masquerade as Clara and steal a warm embrace from him?

Even as my mind raced, my body had already instinctively acted.

Until I felt the rigid tension of the body in my arms, snapping me back to reality, prompting me to release him in flustered embarrassment.

Sebastian possessed an uncanny musical ear and exceptional vocal mimicry skills; as it turned out, I wasn’t entirely untalented either, frequently practicing vocal impressions.

I cleared my throat, adopting Clara’s cadence:

“Don’t worry, you’ll get better.”

He fell silent for a long beat before giving a firm nod.

Whether he suspected anything or simply lacked the mental bandwidth to care given his blindness and dismal mood, he spoke very little.

I nursed him through a full week in the hospital, during which he rarely initiated conversation.

Even when needing to use the restroom or change clothes, he strictly refused my assistance, insisting I summon a male nurse instead.

“Staying glued to me like this—won’t it delay your university classes?”

“It won’t,” I answered.

My academic standing was rock solid; though skipping classes incurred minor attendance deductions, as long as my exam scores stayed at the top, missing a lecture or two posed zero threat.

“Why are you treating me so well?”

“You’re my boyfriend, if I don’t treat you well, who should I treat well?”

“Right, I’m your boyfriend.”

For the very first time, hearing myself state “You are my boyfriend” directly to his face while receiving his tacit acknowledgment made the blood surge violently through my veins.

So this was what happiness felt like, even when built entirely upon a foundation of falsehood.

For the first time in my life, I experienced a searing pang of jealousy toward another human being.

She possessed Sebastian.

Sebastian would hold her hand, kiss her, embrace her, and perhaps even share far more intimate, passionate moments with her…

“You haven’t kissed me in forever. Are you starting to despise me?”

Sebastian asked me softly.

Beneath the sterile white blindfold, I could distinctly sense his underlying insecurity.

He must have loved Clara with every fiber of his being, terrified to his core of being abandoned by her.

Swallowing down the bitter gall in my throat, I forced the corners of my lips upward:

“This is a hospital, people might see us.”

He remained silent for a long moment: “Then shall we go to the restroom?”

I stared in absolute astonishment at his train of thought.

Was he really that desperate to kiss Clara?

The young master occupied a spacious VIP suite equipped with a massive, immaculate private bathroom.

Lifting the blindfold slightly, he pulled me up and hoisted me onto the edge of the marble sink counter.

Perhaps due to his lack of sight, his spatial coordination felt slightly clumsy; fumbling for a long while before our lips finally met.

I caught the distinct flush blooming across the tips of his ears.

His expression radiated raw, undeniable arousal.

Yet out of deep respect for Clara, he merely kept our lips pressed together in a shallow kiss without deepening it further.

After a prolonged silence, as footsteps echoed from outside the bathroom door, he buried his face in the crook of my neck and panted softly:

“Did you like it when I kissed you?”

I loved it, more than words could ever express.

Yet these were stolen kisses.

How could I ever dare utter the words “I loved it”?

The young master had always been upright and honorable; it was my own dark, scheming heart that had pulled him into this deception.

Sweet dreams inevitably reach their expiration date.

Sebastian’s vision successfully recovered.

When Clara arrived back at the hospital to perform a seamless handover of duties, she sneered down at me with malicious condescension:

“Don’t think I’m unaware that you were secretly praying I wouldn’t come back.”

“Consider this me letting you off easy, so don’t you dare push your luck. And don’t you ever breathe a word of this to Sebastian, you hear me?”

Though I despised Clara’s entitlement, for Sebastian’s sake, I had no intention of exposing her cowardice.

Besides, I was hardly a saintly role model myself.

When I returned to the hospital room, Sebastian was no longer inside.

According to the nursing staff, Sebastian had checked out early alongside his girlfriend.

Our next encounter took place on campus grounds.

From a distance, I spotted Clara walking beside him.

I debated whether I should step forward and exchange formal greetings.

Before I could decide, Sebastian called out my name first:

“Sophie.”

I had always harbored the secret belief that my name sounded utterly mundane.

Yet every single time Sebastian uttered it, I couldn’t help feeling as though those two syllables possessed an extraordinary melody.

“You spent a whole month at the hospital, why didn’t you ever come check on me?”

His tone was entirely calm, completely devoid of reproach.

I knew he didn’t genuinely care whether I visited or not; he was merely making polite conversation out of habit.

Lowering my gaze, I replied:

“I had classes to attend, I was busy.”

“Ah… I see.”

The young master possessed a faultless temperament; even upon noticing my apparent lack of “loyalty,” he harbored zero anger, flashing an easygoing smile instead:

“Come to think of it, we’re already juniors, and I’ve never once seen you in a relationship. Do you need me to play matchmaker for you?”

A sharp pang stabbed through my heart.

Yet I couldn’t afford to let my distress show on the surface, forcing a bright, cheerful facade:

“Actually, I’ve already got someone I like.”

He looked surprised before asking in a low, curious murmur:

“Who is it?”

Scanning my eyes left and right across the campus notice board nearby, my gaze landed on a prominent name plastered across a disciplinary warning poster.

“Arthur.”

Sebastian exchanged a perplexed glance with Clara standing beside him.

Clara’s expression turned awkward, while a cold, vicious glint flashed across her eyes.

I didn’t understand the underlying meaning of their reactions at the time.

Until that very evening when Sebastian dropped a warning message straight into my WeChat inbox:

【Sophie, you’ve never dated before, so make sure you don’t get corrupted by bad boys.】

【That Arthur fellow is entirely out of your league to handle.】

Confused, I consulted my dorm roommate about Arthur’s identity.

They informed me that Arthur was a notorious campus delinquent from a poor background who frequently got into street fights and regularly faced official disciplinary warnings from school administration.

To top it all off, through a bizarre coincidence, Arthur was the very street racer who had dragged Sebastian into that fateful car crash.

“You’re close with Sebastian, you must know that Arthur is practically his mortal enemy…”