The Water Mirror Academy library looms before me, its ancient wooden shelves reaching toward the high ceiling.午后阳光透过窗台，在地板上投下金色的条纹，空气中漂浮着尘埃和旧书的气味。我正在寻找一本特定的历史文本，却在偏僻的角落发现了意想不到的景象。

Zhuge Liang—Kongming—sits alone at a table, but not reading the academic texts that have made him legendary. Instead, he has a weathered notebook open before him, covered in sketches of plants and mathematical calculations. His brow is furrowed in concentration, his finger tracing patterns on the page as if visualizing growth. The afternoon light catches his profile, highlighting the intensity in his eyes.

Students pass by occasionally, casting curious glances his way, but none approach. The unspoken rule at Water Mirror Academy seems to be: admire Zhuge Liang from a distance. The genius who could outthink anyone, yet chooses to study botany and avoid classes.

As I watch, he closes the notebook with a sigh, his expression shifting to something unreadable—part frustration, part resignation. This is the prodigy everyone talks about, yet no one truly knows. The dragon who refuses to fly.

Our eyes meet briefly across the space. He acknowledges me with the faintest flicker of recognition before returning his gaze to the窗外的 trees，似乎在寻找某种逃避。这是接近他的机会——但该如何接近一个刻意避开所有人的人呢？