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Holding the microphone, Lin Zhan suddenly felt everyone’s gaze on her. She turned slightly and glanced at Shen Xi.
Assuming they were just watching her sing, she pivoted fully toward him and began:
“Love should be bold and fearless,
No need to pretend forever...”
“Please be bold and fearless,
There’s no such thing as perfect romance.”
After just these few lines, the crowd instantly understood. They turned back to their games without another word.
Some questions didn’t need to be spoken aloud—a single glance was answer enough.
Once the song ended, the group headed out to explore nearby.
Just outside the door, Sun Hong spotted a familiar figure.
He nudged Lin Zhan. “Isn’t that Yu Qing? Damn, why is she haunting us like a ghost?”
Lin Zhan looked over and saw Yu Qing approaching with a group trailing behind her.
Back then, Yu Qing had fabricated a story about Lin Zhan ganging up on her. Now, Lin Zhan wondered how she could show up so shamelessly.
...No guilt at all, huh?
Lin Zhan stood to the side, watching as Yu Qing walked up with a fake smile.
“Lin Zhan, you’re here too?”
Lin Zhan smiled. “You probably know better than me where I am, right?”
A clear jab at Yu Qing’s earlier lie.
Yu Qing’s smile stiffened, but she sweetly replied, “How would I know? I’m sure it was just a coincidence.”
Sun Hong, noticing the thinly veiled hostility, muttered to Zheng Yimian, “I’m so done with this.”
Lin Zhan ignored Yu Qing and busied herself with her phone.
Yu Qing turned to a student council member. “What are you all doing here?”
With Shen Xi the only one missing, it was obvious who they were waiting for.
Zhang Ze, awkwardly holding Shen Xi’s bag, suggested, “Let’s walk ahead. He’ll catch up.”
Someone leaned against a pillar, lazily pushing off to follow.
Yu Qing chirped, “I’ll join you!”
No one paid her much attention.
Lin Zhan’s group lagged behind, but Yu Qing slowed her pace to walk beside her.
Once the others were out of earshot, Yu Qing spoke up.
“Don’t get too cocky. Shen Xi hasn’t chosen anyone yet. We’re competing fairly.”
Sun Hong snorted. “Fairly? Yeah, right.”
Qi Lijie added, “Competing? Sure.”
Sun Hong said, “We’re all for fair competition. Just worried some people might resort to dirty tricks.”
Yu Qing frowned, about to retort, when her expression suddenly shifted.
Ah, Sun Hong thought. Shen Xi’s here.
Her face changed like a Peking opera mask—different expressions for different audiences.
Lin Zhan walked on the inside, while Yu Qing maneuvered to the outer edge, desperate to catch Shen Xi’s eye.
At the intersection, Shen Xi turned his bike and rode up beside Lin Zhan.
Lin Zhan stayed silent, unmoving.
Shen Xi pedaled slowly alongside her before finally giving in.
He braced one foot on the ground and rang the bell.
“Your legs must be tired from walking so long.”
That single sentence was enough to make Yu Qing freeze.
This tone, this gesture—completely unlike the usual Shen Xi.
His gaze never left Lin Zhan as he spoke, his voice almost fond.
“You said you’ve never ridden on the back of a bike before. I borrowed this one just for you.”
Lin Zhan, holding only her phone, hesitated.
Shen Xi took it from her and slipped it into his pocket.
Once she was settled behind him, he finally turned away—but not before making sure she was secure.
Yu Qing watched, jealousy burning inside her.
________________________________________
With Lin Zhan on his bike, they quickly outpaced the others.
Her hands gripped the seat as she mumbled, “Who’d you borrow this from?”
“My cousin works at a bike shop nearby. Just borrowed it.”
“That’s impressive—”
Before she could finish, Shen Xi suddenly accelerated. The bumpy road jolted her forward, and instinctively, her hands flew to his waist.
...Pretty slim.
Her heart skipped a beat.
Softly, she asked, “Was that... on purpose?”
The wind carried her words away, but Shen Xi knew what she meant.
He kept his eyes on the road, not even glancing back—the picture of composure.
Only when they stopped at a traffic light did he notice her slender hands still wrapped around his waist.
His lips curved into a faint smile.
________________________________________
The group ended up at a fish restaurant for dinner.
Yu Qing, watching from afar as Lin Zhan dismounted and chatted with Shen Xi, decided to spare herself further misery and left.
While Shen Xi parked the bike, she confronted Lin Zhan.
Her expression was icy. “I know you signed up for the Starlight Cup. Huang Chen entered our whole class.”
“The judges prefer bright, cheerful styles—not your kind,” Yu Qing sneered. “I signed up too. And I’m good at it.”
She was desperate to tear Lin Zhan down.
As Yu Qing stalked off, Sun Hong asked, “What did she say? She looked pissed.”
Lin Zhan deadpanned, “She just challenged me to a duel.”
Sun Hong blinked. “A fight? Isn’t that suicide? You’re crazy strong—”
Lin Zhan rolled her eyes. “Not a fight. A painting competition. She’s in the Starlight Cup too, and she’s confident.”
Sun Hong scoffed. “Is she stupid?! Even if she used her best against your worst, she’d still lose!”
Lin Zhan grinned. “Maybe she thinks she can crush me.”
________________________________________
Easier said than done.
Lin Zhan had always stuck to her own style—not because she couldn’t adapt, but because forcing herself into a mold often backfired.
But that didn’t mean she couldn’t do it.
Especially with Zheng Yimian, a potential top scorer in the exams, by her side.
Sketching and line art weren’t issues—it was her darker color palette.
For her, painting was always fun. Switching styles occasionally kept things fresh.
Art was like writing: once you grasped the core, the medium didn’t matter.
A week later, the competition began.
The three-hour color segment took Lin Zhan only two. She spent the last half-hour tweaking before submitting.
It was a minor contest, so she wasn’t nervous. With multiple entries allowed, the pressure was off.
Afterward, it was just a waiting game.
She returned to the studio at six that evening.
The teacher asked, “Not going home to rest?”
Lin Zhan shook her head. “I’ll paint for another two hours.”
Shen Xi was coming to pick her up later.
At her seat, Zheng Yimian whispered, “How’d it go?”
Lin Zhan: “Fine. Normal performance.”
“Was Yu Qing in your group?”
“Don’t think so. We’ll see when results come out.”
She didn’t take small competitions too seriously.
With time to spare, she practiced details—hands, shoes, hair.
The teacher tapped a male student’s shoulder. “He Meng, Lin Zhan’s hands are excellent. Go study hers.”
When Shen Xi walked in, He Meng was already standing beside Lin Zhan.
By now, Shen Xi could come and go freely.
Lin Zhan glanced at him, then at He Meng.
She vaguely remembered him—buzz cut, quiet, always holed up in a corner.
Strong in other areas, but weak in sketching.
Lin Zhan drew two hands and said, “Let me see your board. I’ll check what’s off.”
He Meng, blushing, handed it over, his hands trembling slightly.
Lin Zhan thought of Sun Hong and smiled. “Your style reminds me of a friend. He can’t draw hands either.”
“Your proportions are off—the hands are too small. They should match the face. And the joints are too stiff, like right angles. Loosen up, add some softness.”
As she explained, she demonstrated.
When she finished, she asked, “Get it?”
He Meng adjusted his glasses, wiping sweat from his nose. “Yeah.”
He scurried back to his seat, ears burning.
From the couch, Shen Xi noticed his flushed face and darting eyes.
Even after class, He Meng hadn’t calmed down.
On her way to Shen Xi, Lin Zhan passed He Meng’s station.
The teacher was examining his work, so she joined in.
Though his hands were weak, his faces were stunning—likely from years of anime influence.
Lin Zhan rarely saw such beautifully rendered portraits in sketches.
As they descended the stairs, she pondered how he did it.
If she could improve her faces, her scores would rise.
At the bottom step, Shen Xi spoke up quietly. “That guy...”
“Who? He Meng?” Lin Zhan said. “Don’t let the otaku vibe fool you. His faces are amazing. He never talks, just watches anime on Bilibili all day...”
Shen Xi’s voice cooled. “You know him well?”
Lin Zhan shook her head. “Not really. Barely spoken. He’s just... hard to miss. Total opposite of Sun Hong...”
She trailed off, suddenly realizing something.
Shen Xi said flatly, “Go on.”
“Oh—” Lin Zhan drew out the syllable, clasping her hands behind her back as she leaned forward to study his expression.
A faint crease between his brows, a tightness at his lips—subtle signs of displeasure.
But Lin Zhan was delighted.
Her eyes curved with amusement as she bit her lip, one brow arching teasingly.
“Are you jealous?”
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