I stared at those words for five seconds, and my hands began to shake.
This wasn't a prank. I checked every past order, user profile, and customer service record in the app, but couldn't find the name Gu Qingyi anywhere. Yet the System said I'd accepted the order, with an exact address, exact dishes, and exact name.
I took a step back, wanting to leave.
But my feet were rooted to the spot.
It wasn't because I was scared. I remembered her. Half a year ago, in the school cafeteria, the line for food had wound around three corners. I was holding my tray and trying to squeeze backward when I accidentally bumped into someone. I turned around to see a girl with a ponytail smiling at me, her eyes curved like crescents.
"Careful, classmate. It's hot."
She steadied the soup bowl I'd knocked crooked. Her fingers were slender, and her nails neatly trimmed.
I forgot to even say thank you. I carried my food to a corner, my heart pounding like a drum. Only later did I learn her name was Gu Qingyi. She was a senior, ranked first in the entire university, and had won a national scholarship every year. She was the kind of girl people described as, "She's beautiful and brilliant too? How is anyone supposed to survive that?"
