"Sorry," I said.′

  "You don't have to be sorry. You never promised me anything," he replied.

  "I'm sorry." Tears welled up in my eyes.

  "There's no need to apologize. Some things are decided from the very beginning—no amount of effort can change them."

  "I'm sorry." The girl buried her face in her hands.

  "There's no need to be sorry," he said. "But you need to understand—some things will never change, not even in ten thousand years."

  Then he said firmly, "I will always be waiting for you to be my bride."

  -------------

  "Bye! Remember, we have a mock exam tomorrow!"

  Xiao-Qing waved at me while riding her bicycle, heading toward the Kingstone Bookstore near the train station.

  "As if I could ever forget something like that!"

  I shouted back, waving before slipping into the narrow underpass leading toward Guangfu Road.

  Working part-time every day never felt like a burden or made me tired. School, on the other hand—ugh.

  In Taiwan, life as a senior high school student wasn't exactly colorful. Art css, crafts, PE, calligraphy, and even homeroom were all just empty names on the schedule. More often than not, teachers would take over those periods for extra tests or rushed lessons. Even when there were no tests to take or lessons to cram, they'd still ask the subject teachers to let students self-study—as if not getting into NTU's w school would mean ruining the rest of our lives.

  But at Hsinchu Girls’ High, things were at least a little better. The school prided itself on well-rounded development, and that tradition held strong. Even the PE teachers—who loved faking sick—wouldn't dare give up their csses for test prep. Still, the constant pressure of exams never let up. Sometimes, it felt like getting diagnosed with anxiety ten times over wouldn't even be surprising.

  The only pce I could really breathe was Waiting for Someone Café.

  Slipping on my white apron—stained with a few spots of coffee—and stepping behind the counter, I'd let the freshly roasted aroma of coffee beans envelop me like a warm embrace.

  "You don't look too great today," Albus asked unusually.

  She rarely spoke. If she went completely silent until closing, I wouldn't even be surprised.

  I understood her silence, though. It wasn't just a personality trait—it carried a hint of wisdom, too.

  "Mock exams tomorrow. So annoying," I muttered while gncing at the English phrases taped above the counter, absently brewing a charcoal-roasted iced coffee.

  "Want to leave early? I don't mind," the boss dy said with a smile. Lately, she'd been obsessed with paper cutting.

  I gnced at her—our zy, hands-off boss. She was ten years older than me, only twenty-seven, yet she had already mastered the art of not caring about anything. And honestly, I knew she really wouldn't mind.

  But a mock exam is just a mock exam—it won't disappear just because I go home early.

  "The boss dy is in a great mood today," Albus said.

  "Oh? Why's that?" I asked. Though, to be fair, I'd never really seen her in a bad mood before.

  "This afternoon, an engineer working at the Hsinchu Science Park ordered her special blend, and the two of them had the liveliest chat," Albus said with a grin, unable to keep the secret.

  "Ohhh, so that's why you've been cutting pink paper all day—because you're in love?" I teased, joining in on the excitement.

  The boss dy only smiled and said nothing, her hands continuing to craft a traditional-style papercut of an old man riding a crane.

  "What kind of person is he?" I asked.

  At that moment, there were only two of us in the café, and it wasn't busy. But outside the transparent door, a group of five high schoolers were jostling and ughing loudly.

  I recognized them immediately—they were the same ones who'd once ordered a ridiculous "Huashan Sword Duel: Soul-Crushing Coffee." Who knows what they were up to this time?

  "A single, thirty-something computer engineer. This afternoon, he happened to sit near a cup of Kenyan coffee. Two people, two ptops—they seemed like they were endlessly busy," Albus said, also noticing the mischief brewing outside.

  What a shame—Ze Yu already came by earlier today. Looks like my already weak motivation for the night just took another hit.

  But as I stole a gnce at the boss dy's expression while she cut paper, I could tell she was absolutely smitten. My gloomy mood gradually began to

  On the café menu, there was always a conspicuous listing:

  "Boss Lady's Special Blend"—99 CNY a cup.

  The note underneath read,

  Comes with a chat with the Boss Lady. Duration? As long as your coffee sts."

  It was a mystery.

  I remember the day I finally couldn't help but ask her about it. It was my second week working at Waiting for Someone Café, on a cool Saturday afternoon.

  Before that day, a professor who had just returned to Taiwan to teach at National Tsing Hua University had come in three days in a row. And each time, he ordered the "Boss Lady's Uncertain Special Blend."

  I remember he taught physics.

  "So, does that mean everything in this world can be expined by the ws of physics?"

  The boss dy asked curiously, cradling a steaming cup of coffee.

  Today's coffee was an odd variation of Blue Mountain—floating on top were a few inexplicable slices of lemon.

  The physics professor's goatee dipped slightly into his coffee as he smiled with absolute confidence.

  "Not exactly. From the perspective of Einstein's theory of retivity, your short sentence just now contained a total of twenty-three characters, but within it, there were four contradictions—or rather, four points of logical inconsistency. However, if we still analyze it through Einstein's retivity, these four inconsistencies actually blend together seamlessly, interlocking in perfect harmony."

  It was as if the professor would die if he didn't make every word sound profound.

  As a humanities-track high school student standing behind the counter, I was utterly lost.

  But honestly, I doubted even the science-track students could understand him.