SWTHTC - 16

Chapter 16: “Is That Okay?”

[“Bro, I’m begging you.”]

Zhou Leqi struggled to make sense of the current situation. Hou Zihao’s earlier expression and tone had seemed confrontational, yet his words… were something else entirely.

It was like a large, seemingly fierce dog baring its teeth while wagging its tail at the same time.

Both fell into silence, with only the flickering incandescent lights in the parking garage swaying faintly.

Hou Zihao was the first to break the silence.

At that moment, he didn’t really have anything to say. Especially after his disastrously abrupt and poorly executed confession—something even he hadn’t anticipated—he wished he could just vanish on the spot. But he knew if he didn’t speak, the pressure to initiate conversation would fall on her.

And she’d feel uncomfortable.

So he spoke.

“I never expected things to turn out this way, nor did I plan to tell you so soon.”

Zhou Leqi heard his voice and looked up, catching a glimpse of the unmasked vulnerability in his eyes.

“I truly didn’t mean to hurt you,” his voice was low. “I just…”

“...really like you a lot.”

Zhou Leqi’s eyes widened slightly.

She stared at him, and he stared back. Her gaze was filled with wariness and scrutiny, while his carried sincerity—and a subtle, almost imperceptible nervousness.

A tense silence stretched between them.

Until she finally decided to grant him a response.

“I don’t know if you’re serious or just joking,” she averted her eyes, her tone cold. “If it’s a joke, I don’t find it funny at all. I hope you’ll stop this kind of behavior.”

“And if you’re serious…”

She paused, glancing at him again.

It was just a fleeting look, but it felt as though it lifted his entire heart.

“I’m sorry, but I won’t accept.”

Was this an unexpected answer?

Of course not.

Though he was generally an optimistic person, he wasn’t so delusional as to think she’d agree right now—she had only known him for a week, while he had been watching her for two years.

Their relationship had never been equal from the start.

Hou Zihao forced a smile, trying to appear relaxed to mask the desolation in his eyes.

He succeeded—at least in Zhou Leqi’s eyes. She interpreted his earlier words as nothing more than a cruel joke, which only fueled her anger further.

She no longer wanted to exchange another word with him.

Zhou Leqi took a deep breath to steady herself and regain her composure. After a moment, she finally managed to speak.

She looked at him and said, “I hope you’ll go explain things to Teacher Pan. I don’t care what you say otherwise, but you must tell him that none of this has anything to do with me. Is that okay?”

“Yes,” he replied without hesitation.

Zhou Leqi nodded, her tone growing sharper. “Also, in the future, I hope you won’t make similar tasteless jokes. Deceiving others is despicable. Is that okay?”

Hou Zihao’s eyelids drooped slightly, but he still answered, “Yes.”

But I wasn’t joking.

I meant every word.

“Additionally,” her gaze turned even colder, as if delivering a closing statement, “when we return to the classroom, I want you to change seats. Don’t sit next to me anymore. Is that okay?”

This time, Hou Zihao fell silent.

Zhou Leqi’s brows furrowed tightly, her voice rising as she repeated, “Is that okay?”

She was angry.

For a brief moment, Hou Zihao thought that if he didn’t agree immediately, she might burst into tears from frustration.

So he said once more, “…Yes.”

She seemed satisfied at last and turned away the instant his words ended.

As if she would never look back at him again.

When they returned to the classroom, Class One’s students were shocked to see Hou Zihao switch seats with Ge Ao.

Everyone: ?

Ge Ao: ???

Ge Ao was utterly baffled. When Hou Zihao proposed switching seats, he resisted fiercely: Was this a joke? Why should he give up his seat? His current spot was in the back corner, a blind spot for teachers, allowing him to do whatever he wanted during class without being noticed. Plus, his desk partner had worse grades than him, making life stress-free. Who would want to move to the third row and sit next to the top student in the grade?

Ge Ao refused, struggling against the chains of fate. “I’m not switching! Why should I? This seating arrangement is locked until the second mock exam—didn’t you insist on sitting with her in the first place? Why the sudden change of heart now?”

Under everyone’s watchful eyes, Hou Zihao couldn’t explain. He dragged Ge Ao outside, his expression grim. “I’ve already talked to Teacher Pan, and he agreed to let us switch seats. Just swap with me.”

Ge Ao was speechless, unable to comprehend why he always bore the brunt of these situations. Mi Lan chased after Yan Lin, got her QQ deleted, and then hacked his account. Now, it seemed Hou Zihao and Zhou Leqi were having some sort of fallout—but why did he have to be the one to switch seats?

Unfair!

Ge Ao pondered for a moment, attempting to save himself once more. “Look, Monkey, there are forty people in the class. You can switch with someone else. We’re all brothers here—why drag me into this?”

Reasonable as it was, Hou Zihao remained unmoved. “No, I can only switch with you.”

Ge Ao collapsed in defeat. “Why?!?”

Hou Zihao, of course, had his reasons. In his view, the girls in the class were all closer to Yuan Jiahui. After the PE class incident, they’d all sided with her. What if they bullied Zhou Leqi if he sat next to her? As for the other boys, what if they developed feelings for her and started harassing her daily?

Ge Ao was perfect. He wouldn’t bully her, and romance wasn’t even on his radar. He was the ideal choice.

Without further explanation, Hou Zihao simply dropped a line: “Are we brothers or not? If we are, stop wasting time and just switch.”

Ge Ao realized that this matter wouldn’t end unless he agreed. But he was reluctant—the perfect seat he’d earned through his own efforts was being taken away just like that?

Fuming, he told Hou Zihao, “Fine, but only if you call me ‘Bro’ and beg me.”

He assumed that even someone as shameless as Hou Zihao would at least hesitate before such a demand. To his surprise, Hou Zihao didn’t even blink before saying, “Bro, I’m begging you.”

Ge Ao was defeated.

Utterly crushed.

The outcome? Ge Ao tearfully bid farewell to his beloved seat, trembling as he picked up his bag and moved to sit next to Zhou Leqi. When she glanced at him upon his arrival, he instinctively shivered.

Suppressing his nerves, he cautiously introduced himself. “H-Hello, I’m Ge Ao.”

Then, pointing at the seat beside her, he timidly asked, “Um… may I sit here?”

Zhou Leqi nodded at him and promptly turned back to her book.

Ge Ao finally settled into the seat, trembling.

No sooner had he sat down than a certain passerby named Hou Zihao discreetly walked by and pinched him.

Ge Ao nearly yelped in pain, suddenly remembering the task Hou Zihao had assigned him earlier.

He was exasperated but powerless to resist. In the end, he obediently pulled out the bandage Hou Zihao had just bought from the school store downstairs. Carefully tearing one off the pack, he shyly extended it toward Zhou Leqi.

Zhou Leqi gave him a puzzled look.

Ge Ao nervously swallowed and pointed at her injured fingernail. “You’re bleeding… use this to cover it.”

Zhou Leqi blinked, instinctively searching for Hou Zihao. He was at the front of the classroom talking to Yan Lin, his back turned to her, not looking her way.

She withdrew her gaze, accepted the bandage, and said, “Thank you.”

Ge Ao treaded carefully, quickly replying, “No problem, no problem at all!”

For the rest of the day, Zhou Leqi and Hou Zihao didn’t exchange a single word. They sat at opposite ends of the classroom, embodying the farthest distance in Class One.

The students buzzed with speculation. Some claimed they were caught in an early romance by Teacher Pan and were pretending to be distant to avoid suspicion. Others dismissed this theory, arguing that they’d simply had a falling-out and were sitting apart because of it.

Xu Xin and Gao Qianqian were staunch supporters of the latter theory. They even gathered around Yuan Jiahui, saying, “See? I told you Hou Zihao doesn’t like Zhou Leqi. You were worrying over nothing—look, they’ve split up, haven’t they?”

They sounded more triumphant than Yuan Jiahui herself.

But Yuan Jiahui was far from optimistic.

She had already been thoroughly rejected by Hou Zihao yesterday. Unable to calm down after a sleepless night, she acted on impulse this morning and reported Zhou Leqi and Hou Zihao to Teacher Pan. She even showed him photos of them together posted by classmates on QQ Space. Predictably, he was furious—explosively so.

At the time, she felt a rush of satisfaction. But once the heat of the moment passed, regret set in.

Especially when she saw the indifferent look in Hou Zihao’s eyes afterward…

…She regretted it so much she wanted to cry.

That evening, Zhou Leqi finally walked home alone.

She left the classroom alone, exited the school gates alone, walked two stops to the Cultural Palace station alone, waited for the bus alone, and swiped her card alone when boarding.

Everything returned to the familiar state she’d always known.

She sat alone on the bus, no one beside her. There was no one to impose invisible social pressure, no one to disturb her peaceful solitude—and certainly no one to hand her a free bowl of shaved ice porridge.

She saw the middle-aged man again. He was still sneaking glances at her. Several stops later, when he realized the tall boy no longer appeared on this bus, his gaze grew increasingly brazen.

He no longer had any reason to hold back.

…Because there was no one left to shield her.