CS - 3

Lin Zhe Xia was momentarily stunned.

The ring pull of the soda can was still hanging on her finger, a lonely reminder of what had just happened.

What threw her off guard wasn’t just the gesture itself—it felt like an ambush.

Just moments ago, Chi Yao had seemed utterly disinterested in even acknowledging her presence.

By the time she processed his unexpected assistance, the perfect moment for a clever retort had already passed.

All she could manage was, “Of course you’re smart. I’ve never practiced opening cans one-handed before—it’s normal not to know how.”

She continued slowly, trying to regain some ground: “Besides, who knows? Maybe you secretly practiced this move just to look cool.”

“…”

As she spoke, Chi Yao had already withdrawn his hand, resting it back on his knee as he resumed watching the movie. His earlier fleeting glance at her now seemed more like an act of charity than genuine interest.

He tossed out a single line: “Do I look like I have time to waste?”

The second half of the movie followed a predictable plotline. The protagonist and their group finally confronted the main villain, culminating in a dramatic showdown filled with gunfire and explosions. The sound effects were intense, keeping everyone glued to the screen.

Lin Zhe Xia took another sip of her lemon soda and focused on the action unfolding before her.

After the movie ended, He Yang suggested playing a card game.

For a group of students on summer vacation, time was something they had in abundance.

He Yang pulled out a deck of black cards from his pocket. “I’ll deal them out. Whoever wants to play, gather around—I’ll explain the rules.”

When it came to Chi Yao and Lin Zhe Xia’s side, He Yang handed over the remaining stack of cards. “Pick one, Brother Yao?”

Chi Yao glanced at the cards in He Yang’s hand but didn’t take any. “I’m a bit tired. I think I’ll nap for a while.”

He Yang turned to Lin Zhe Xia instead. “Alright, Summer Bro, your turn.”

Mimicking Chi Yao’s earlier response almost word-for-word, Lin Zhe Xia said, “You guys play. I’ll work on my homework.”

“…”

He Yang retracted the cards, unfazed by their refusal. “You two always have to be special, don’t you?”

Though everyone in their “Nanxiang Squad” had grown up together, relationships naturally varied in closeness. There was one unspoken truth within the group: despite their constant bickering, Lin Zhe Xia and Chi Yao were undeniably the closest pair among them all.

True to his word, Chi Yao really did fall asleep shortly after claiming he was tired.

Lin Zhe Xia guessed that traveling back late last night must have exhausted him.

Instead of heading to his room, however, he chose to nap right there beside her on the carpet, likely planning not to sleep for too long.

The bean bag chair was already sitting directly on the floor, making it easy to rest his head against it. But given his height, even lying down left him looking cramped.

Lin Zhe Xia glanced at her own legs, comparing their length silently, then quietly flipped open the unfinished homework she’d been working on earlier.

Halfway through solving a problem, Chi Yao woke up.

Completely absorbed in her studies, Lin Zhe Xia hadn’t noticed until she heard him speak.

“This answer is wrong.”

A minute later, another comment followed:

“This one’s incorrect too.”

“…”

Finally, Chi Yao delivered his verdict: “It’s no small feat that you managed to scrape into Second High.”

Lin Zhe Xia paused mid-stroke, her pen hovering over the paper. With mock politeness, she shot back, “Thank you for your affirmation. Luck is indeed part of skill.”

And so, while the others played their card game, chattering loudly and filling the room with noise, Chi Yao sat amidst the chaos and began explaining problems to her.

He had just woken up, propping himself up on one hand as he leaned closer to her. In his other hand, he twirled a pen effortlessly, jotting down solution steps in the margins of her workbook.

“This problem is a bit tricky,” Lin Zhe Xia defended herself, “It’s a comprehensive question—there are naturally more points where mistakes can happen.”

Chi Yao’s handwriting mirrored his personality.

His strokes were bold and stylish, beautiful yet hurried, creating a slightly chaotic impression.

“Tricky?” He smirked, finishing the final character with a flourish. “This problem is so simple I barely bothered solving it.”

“…”

Calm.

Stay calm.

Set aside surface-level reactions and focus on the essence.

After all, wasn’t he currently helping her with her homework?

And it wasn’t the first time either.

Over the years, Chi Yao had often explained problems to her.

So frequently, in fact, that Lin Zhe Xia had grown accustomed to it.

As she erased and corrected her previous answers, she casually brought up the topic of his recent trip to visit relatives in the neighboring city. “By the way, where exactly did you go for your visit a few days ago?”

“The neighboring city.”

Chi Yao replied, “A relative’s child was celebrating their first birthday.”

While correcting her answers, Lin Zhe Xia reminisced, “Did they do the traditional grabbing ceremony? When I was little, I grabbed…”

Before she could finish, Chi Yao cut in smoothly: “You grabbed the tablecloth.”

“Did I mention that before?” Lin Zhe Xia couldn’t recall. After all, they exchanged countless words every day—it was hard to keep track of what had been said and what hadn’t. “Your memory’s impressive.”

Chi Yao’s tone carried a hint of sarcasm: “Oh, it has nothing to do with memory. If someone repeatedly tells you about their embarrassing moments three or more times, you tend to remember.”

“…”

Sensing the need to pivot, Lin Zhe Xia changed the subject: “What about you? Did you grab anything when you were little?”

Chi Yao shook his head.

“No ceremony,” he said simply.

“No ceremony?”

“For the first birthday celebration,” Chi Yao explained indifferently, “that year, my family’s business was too busy.”

Lin Zhe Xia recalled the image of Chi Yao’s mother—a woman with a cold, commanding presence. She remembered hearing from Lin He years ago that Chi Yao’s mother had returned to work almost immediately after giving birth. For a strong-willed career woman like her, skipping the first birthday ceremony wasn’t surprising at all.

After a brief silence, Lin Zhe Xia remarked, “So you really didn’t grab anything.”

“…?”

She elaborated carefully: “No wonder now, you’re so… not much of a thing.”

________________________________________

Since Chi Yao’s return, Lin Zhe Xia’s homework situation had vastly improved.

Starting from the day after his arrival, she began bringing her assignments to his house regularly.

“Mom,” Lin Zhe Xia announced briskly one morning, “I’m going to Chi Yao’s place. I might not come back for lunch, so don’t wait for me.”

Sometimes, Lin He would voice mild objections: “You’re a young lady now. Don’t act like you did as a child, running to someone else’s house all the time.”

Lin Zhe Xia brushed it off: “It’s fine. In Chi Yao’s eyes, I’m not exactly female. Being considered a primate is already a compliment.”

However, it wasn’t just Lin He who occasionally raised concerns.

One afternoon, Lin Zhe Xia knocked on Chi Yao’s door, clutching her homework. Before she could step inside, Chi Yao attempted to close the door in her face.

She pressed her hand against the doorframe, trying to squeeze through the gap. “I’m here to do my homework.”

Chi Yao responded with his usual exasperation: “Are you telling me you can’t write a single word unless you’re in my house?”

Lin Zhe Xia countered, “These questions are a bit difficult…”

Chi Yao scoffed: “Changing locations won’t help. You might need a new brain.”

Undeterred, Lin Zhe Xia persisted: “Think of it as doing a good deed for the day.”

The door, which had been repeatedly pushed and pulled during their exchange, suddenly froze in place.

Chi Yao’s hand rested on the doorknob, no longer exerting force. The partially open door seemed stuck, leaving a narrow gap through which Lin Zhe Xia could see half of his face.

She caught a glimpse of his tousled bangs, sharp jawline, and the faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

Even when he smiled, his demeanor remained aloof and distant, carrying an air of arrogant indifference.

“Sorry,” he drawled, his tone mocking. “I don’t perform good deeds because, well, I’m not much of a thing.”

Lin Zhe Xia: “….”

She suspected he was using this opportunity to exact revenge.

Hadn’t she just made a casual comment the other day?!

Was it really worth holding a grudge over?!

A few seconds later, she watched helplessly as Chi Yao’s door closed firmly in front of her.

Resigned, Lin Zhe Xia crouched outside his door with her homework, refusing to leave.

While squatting, she pulled out her phone to send him a message.

• Let me in, please orz

• It’s so windy out here

• I’m freezing

Half a minute later, Chi Yao replied, reminding her:

• You’re in the hallway.

• I meant my heart—it’s leaking wind.

• …

Inside the apartment, Chi Yao leaned his back against the door, separated from her by only a thin barrier. Reading her message, he muttered under his breath, “Idiot.”

His fingers hovered over the screen, typing out a few words: Just open the door yourself.

But before he could press send, new sounds emerged from outside.

The neighbors across the hall had opened their door.

An elderly couple lived opposite Chi Yao. They were likely taking out the trash, and since they had known each other for years, the old man greeted Lin Zhe Xia warmly upon seeing her. “Little Lin, visiting Chi Yao again? Why are you squatting outside?”

“Uncle Wang.”

Lin Zhe Xia deliberately raised her voice, ensuring the person behind the door could hear: “I’m here to ask for help with my homework. This summer, I haven’t let up for a moment—I’ve been diligently practicing every day. My focus is solely on studying. The reason I’m squatting outside is because—Chi Yao is being stingy. He’s afraid I’ll become smarter than him and surpass his grades, so he refuses to teach me and locks me out—”

But before she could finish her sentence, the word “outside” died on her lips.

With a soft click, the door opened.

Lin Zhe Xia felt a sudden tug on the back of her collar. The force yanked her backward into the apartment.

Chi Yao dragged her inside, saying, “Bring your homework and get in.”

________________________________________

The cicadas’ relentless chirping stretched from the beginning of August to its end, marking the peak of summer.

Lin Zhe Xia’s memories of this summer revolved around the cool air conditioning in Chi Yao’s home, the fizzy lemon soda on the table, and the gradually thinning stack of homework she worked on daily.

While she studied, Chi Yao would sit beside her, irritatingly engrossed in his mobile games.

As usual, he paid minimal attention while playing. His fingers tapped lazily on the screen, and Lin Zhe Xia occasionally glanced over, often catching a glaring notification: “Penta Kill.”

Chi Yao’s desk was spacious.

More often than not, he would nap at the far end of it.

One hand dangled off the edge, while the other rested behind his neck, resembling a student in the back row of a classroom, completely disengaged from the lesson.

Summer vacation passed by quickly, and soon it was time to prepare for school.

That evening at dinner, Lin He brought up the topic of the upcoming school year: “School starts soon. Start focusing and adjusting your mindset. High school is a crucial stage—do you understand?”

Lin Zhe Xia nodded absently, poking at the rice in her bowl.

“By the way,” Lin He added, “Uncle Wei bought you some new notebooks.”

Lin Zhe Xia quickly expressed her gratitude: “Thank you, Uncle Wei.”

Lin He elaborated: “And a new backpack. After dinner, take a look to see if you like it. A new school year calls for a fresh start.”

After the meal, Lin Zhe Xia sat on the sofa unwrapping her gifts.

Wei Ping joined her, sitting nearby.

When Lin He wasn’t around, conversations between Lin Zhe Xia and Wei Ping carried a hint of awkwardness.

Breaking the silence, Lin Zhe Xia said, “Thank you, Uncle. The backpack is very nice—I love it. Would you like… some water? I’ll pour you a glass.”

Wei Ping, wearing glasses and emanating an air of quiet gentleness, replied, “Ah, no need, thank you. You liking it is enough.”

He then offered, “Would you like some fruit? I’ll cut you an orange.”

Having just eaten, Lin Zhe Xia declined politely: “No, thank you, Uncle. Please don’t trouble yourself.”

After exchanging pleasantries, the conversation quickly dwindled.

Lin Zhe Xia returned to her phone, instinctively opening the chat window with Chi Yao.

Out of boredom, she sent a few messages:

• What are you doing?

• School starts soon!

• We’re in the same school now! How exciting! We’ll be going to school together!

• Do you think we’ll end up in the same class?

Chi Yao didn’t reply.

She waited a while, then exited the chat.

Beside her, Wei Ping cleared his throat softly, seizing the opportunity to strike up a conversation: “School starts soon. Are you nervous about attending a new school?”

Lin Zhe Xia thought for a moment before answering, “Not really. I’m not too nervous.”

She truly wasn’t anxious about starting at a new school.

If anything, her unease stemmed not from the idea of attending a new institution but from the reality of her academic standing.

Although she had managed to enter Second High, it was undeniably a stretch—she had barely scraped in above the cutoff line.

Lin Zhe Xia had always been acutely aware of her capabilities.

Emotionally, she disliked the extra assignments Lin He assigned her. Rationally, however, she understood that she genuinely needed them.

She knew her grades weren’t great, and she needed to work harder.

Thus, she diligently completed the twenty pages of homework each day without fail.

During this period, thanks to Chi Yao—though his teaching style was often accompanied by sarcastic remarks and personal jabs—he had undeniably helped her grasp many concepts ahead of the high school curriculum.

Under Chi Yao’s “tutoring,” she gradually realized that the slight anxiety she initially felt about starting school had completely dissipated.

As she finished reflecting, her phone screen lit up.

[You have received two new messages]

Chi Dog: Based on our scores

Chi Dog: It’s unlikely

A moment later, the screen lit up again.

• Also

• Attending the same school as me is already an honor

• Don’t expect too much

“…”

Staring at these messages, Lin Zhe Xia couldn’t help but reflect: Had she eaten too much at dinner?

Otherwise, why would she feel the urge to message this infuriating person when she was clearly full and bored?