The warm afternoon breeze brushed against the ceremonial robe draped over Jenny's shoulders. The sun was high, Taipei 101 casting a shadow over the crowd gathered at the university pza. Caps flew in the air, ughter echoed, and cameras clicked nonstop.

  But Jenny just stood still, quietly holding her diploma.

  She made it.

  Despite the injury. Despite the sleepless nights. Despite everything.

  A soft voice beside her broke the silence.

  “Congrats, Jenny!” said Yuna, one of her few close cssmates.

  Jenny nodded and smiled politely. “You too.”

  Another cssmate nudged her from behind. “What’s next for the sharpshooter queen? Staying in Taipei?”

  “I’ll try to,” she replied. “I’m job hunting now.”

  “Good luck. If I hear anything from my cousin’s company, I’ll let you know.”

  Jenny thanked her. She was used to doing things alone, but gestures like that warmed her chest.

  Later that week, she sat in a coffee shop downtown with her ptop open. Her resume, freshly polished, sat ready on the screen. Applications lined up—everything from administrative roles to sports training assistants and marketing firms.

  Her first few interviews were awkward, but she learned quickly—adjusting answers, researching company cultures, brushing up on both English and Mandarin phrasing.

  Most employers were impressed by her discipline and sports accodes. Some even recognized her name.

  “Wait—you’re the national shooter? I saw you on the Kaohsiung tournament broadcast!”

  “We don’t often get athletes like you applying for an office role.”

  Jenny smiled politely each time. “I’m ready for a new challenge.”

  But inside, she wasn’t sure what challenge she wanted. Shooting would always be part of her—but so was the need for stability, to help her mom and siblings.

  She often stared at the ceiling at night, wondering:

  Would it be wrong to leave the sport behind?

  Meanwhile, her coach had called.

  “You sure about this? You could still push for the national team.”

  Jenny hesitated.

  “I’ll keep training. Just not full-time for now.”

  There was silence on the other end, then a heavy sigh.

  “I hope you’re not running away from something, Jenny.”

  She wasn’t. She was trying to run toward something.

  A life. A future. A version of herself that wasn’t just defined by one rivalry, one boy, one heartbreak.

  That weekend, she visited her old apartment for the st time—just to return a spare key to her former nddy.

  As she passed by the gate, she noticed the familiar red jeep still parked in the same spot. It hadn't moved.

  Her heart skipped—but she didn’t look up.

  She kept walking.

  From the third floor window, Li Wei leaned slightly, watching her figure vanish into the crowd.

  He didn’t call her name.

  Not yet.