SWTHTC - 23

Chapter 23: “Here.”

That night, Zhou Leqi had a rare good sleep. She crawled into bed at 1:45 AM and fell asleep in less than ten minutes. She slept soundly until her alarm woke her the next morning, without waking up once during the night.

She didn’t know why she had slept so well that day. Was it because she had been lacking sleep recently? Or was it because she had experienced a rare moment of happiness the previous evening?

She wasn’t sure. She only vaguely remembered dreaming about a light—perhaps the motion-sensor light outside her door—that flickered on and off, growing brighter and dimmer.

Her good mood quietly lingered.

When she entered the classroom early the next morning, there were only three or four people in the class. Hou Zihao had already arrived. He must have stayed up later than her the previous night because he looked exhausted, sitting at his desk with unfocused eyes.

But the moment she walked into the classroom, he immediately noticed her and seemed to snap awake, much like a big dog that perks up its ears as soon as it sees its owner.

She pursed her lips and walked toward her seat, catching him out of the corner of her eye already standing up and pretending to casually approach her. For some reason, she felt like laughing but managed to suppress it, maintaining a neutral expression as she sat down.

No sooner had she taken her seat and pulled her pencil case from her bag than he arrived, holding several assignments. First, he pretended to casually pull out the chair that originally belonged to him but now belonged to Ge Ao. Then, even more casually, he sat down beside her.

Finally, at the peak of his acting skills, he handed over his homework with a cool demeanor, saying simply, “Here.”

Hou Zihao certainly looked very cool, exuding an air of calm professionalism. But inside, he was panicking. He was terrified that after a night’s rest, Zhou Leqi might change her mind, nullifying all his efforts from the previous day.

Damn it, if this happens again, he’d call the police.

Fortunately, Zhou Leqi wasn’t that heartless. She took his English and chemistry assignments and handed over her math, physics, Chinese, and biology work.

Two top-tier students thus came together to copy each other’s homework.

Because Zhou Leqi had previously copied Ge Ao’s homework and ended up making a bunch of mistakes, she now had PTSD. While copying Hou Zihao’s chemistry, she couldn’t help but double-check everything. From where he sat secretly watching her, Hou Zihao interpreted her actions as “disdain.” He sighed inwardly and couldn’t help but defend himself: “I wrote these very carefully. You don’t need to… be so disdainful.”

Seriously, he had worked incredibly hard on his homework last night. Even something as basic as balancing equations had been checked multiple times, and he had even cross-referenced answers online to ensure accuracy. To make it easier for her to copy, he had deliberately written neatly, with straight lines and proper characters. And yet, here she was, disdainfully checking his work?

He was, after all, the former top student of his grade… though now she had pushed him to second place.

Zhou Leqi acknowledged Hou Zihao’s grievances and pretended to trust him as she began copying. In reality, she still checked while copying. By the time she finished, she hadn’t found any issues, so she completed the task.

It took her about ten minutes to finish copying his chemistry and English. By then, more students had arrived in the classroom. Seeing Hou Zihao seated next to her again, everyone started whispering, their little glances darting toward them.

Zhou Leqi still worried about rumors spreading, especially if Teacher Pan heard them—it would make things worse. Feeling the pressure, she nudged Hou Zihao and said, “Are you done copying? Why are you so much slower than me?”

Hou Zihao: …

First, he glanced at her, then pushed the Chinese assignment he was currently copying toward her. “You’re fast because you’re just copying letters like ABCD. I’m copying Chinese. Look at how many words you’ve written.”

Zhou Leqi looked down: … She had written dense paragraphs for every question.

“And can I even copy Chinese word-for-word?” he frowned. “I’m changing things as I go—it’s half creation, alright?”

At this point, Zhou Leqi felt a bit guilty and coughed lightly. “Well… hurry up and keep copying then.”

Hou Zihao sighed and lowered his head to continue copying, muttering as he worked, “I see why you gave me English and chemistry yesterday—it was so you could copy them easily today…”

Zhou Leqi: …

Heaven and earth bear witness.

She really hadn’t thought that far ahead.

She laughed at his teasing and pretended to take back her homework. “If you’re so dissatisfied, then don’t copy it…”

Hou Zihao had only been joking. Now, seeing her reaction, he quickly backtracked, laughing and saying, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” The morning sunlight seemed to cooperate with him, highlighting his deep features and making him look particularly handsome. Even his plain white school uniform shirt added charm, casting distinct shadows across his face.

…Pleasing to the eye.

Zhou Leqi decided not to hold it against him and let him continue copying.

Ten more minutes passed, and he still hadn’t finished. By then, Ge Ao had arrived, backpack in hand. Seeing Hou Zihao sitting in his seat, Ge Ao was ecstatic. Trying to contain his excitement, he asked, “Does this mean we’re switching seats back?”

Hou Zihao didn’t even look up from his copying. “No, I’m just sitting here for a bit. I’ll leave once I’m done.”

Ge Ao: …

Losing something isn’t scary; what’s scary is gaining it back only to lose it again.

This blow was too heavy. Ge Ao lost consciousness for two whole minutes. When he came to, he saw Hou Zihao still copying and became so angry that his blood pressure spiked. He locked his arm around Hou Zihao’s neck. “Damn you, Hou Zihao! Why don’t you just let me transfer classes already!”

Despite the roughhousing and banter, Ge Ao was still a good guy.

He remained dedicated to fulfilling Hou Zihao’s wish to date early and hoped to achieve self-redemption by playing matchmaker. He had to get his old seat back!

After observing their interactions, Ge Ao noticed that his new deskmate seemed to be in a good mood today. During break time, he dared to strike up a conversation with her, weaving Hou Zihao into nine out of every ten sentences. The remaining sentence was “Hello.”

“Actually, Monkey (Hou Zihao) is really great,” Ge Ao began racking his brain for Hou Zihao’s virtues, passionately elaborating. “Good grades, good personality, good looks—the most important thing is his moral character. He’ll definitely treat his girlfriend exceptionally well. There’s no way he’d be unfaithful, and he’d do whatever his girlfriend asks. His self-discipline is unmatched.”

He went on and on, but his new deskmate wasn’t very interested, asking, “How do you know?”

Ge Ao stumbled, then confidently declared, “Isn’t it obvious? So many girls chase him, but he never bats an eye.”

As he spoke, he subtly pointed toward Yuan Jiahui, who was erasing the blackboard at the front of the classroom, gossiping, “Take our class president, for example. She’s been chasing him for two years, but Monkey hasn’t budged at all. He directly rejected her—how impressive, how decisive, how gentlemanly.”

Ge Ao almost made himself sick.

But he didn’t give up. To reclaim his seat, he continued trying: “And he’s so considerate, so patient. Remember when the two of you were separated? Your finger was cut—a tiny scratch—and he noticed it right away. He bought you a band-aid and had me deliver it without telling you. How touching is that? If I were a girl, I’d marry him right away.”

Ge Ao, the national-level wingman, global savior, and best wingman ever.

Zhou Leqi: …

She truly hadn’t realized that the band-aid from last time was also bought by Hou Zihao. She had scolded him so harshly that day, yet he…

A subtle feeling stirred within her heart. She instinctively turned her head to look at Hou Zihao sitting on the other side of the classroom.

He was hunched over his work, spinning a pen idly between his fingers. The ordinary pen danced gracefully in his fingertips, revealing both his casualness and focus. At one point, he seemed to sense her gaze and unexpectedly raised his head to meet her eyes. Their gazes collided.

Click.

It was as if a switch had been silently flipped.

Later that afternoon, Hou Zihao’s luck turned around.

He had been waiting outside the classroom for Zhou Leqi to pack her things, but even after everyone else had left, she still hadn’t come out. Eventually, he went inside to find her.

The classroom was empty. She was standing by her desk, looking back at the unfinished blackboard mural they had started earlier. Hou Zihao suddenly felt an inexplicably good premonition. He tried to suppress it as he approached her and asked, “Not leaving yet?”

She crossed her arms, exposing a slender, pale wrist. She glanced at him, then tilted her chin toward the blackboard. “When do you plan to finish this?”

The progress was exactly the same as when they had last worked on it together.

Hou Zihao stopped beside her and glanced at the blackboard. After a moment’s thought, he replied, “When you’re free.”

She didn’t respond immediately, only pursing her lips. After a pause, she asked, “Don’t you think the proportions of this sailboat are off? It doesn’t look good enough.”

Hou Zihao raised an eyebrow, sensing a hidden test behind her words.

He was familiar with this kind of context. His mom often gave his dad similar tests. On the surface, it sounded like casual conversation, but if his dad answered poorly, it meant stepping on a landmine—with unpleasant consequences.

He needed to tread carefully and answer thoughtfully.

Hou Zihao quickly analyzed the situation. The comment sounded familiar—it was something Luo Siyu from Class 43 had said yesterday. Could she care deeply about that remark? Or did she have some unresolved issue with Luo Siyu? Reflecting back, Zhou Leqi’s face had turned pale the first time she met Luo Siyu during gym class on Wednesday.

In half a second, the second-ranked student’s brain had spun five hundred rounds. Yet, he hadn’t come up with anything conclusive. After a moment’s thought, he decided to answer honestly.

“No,” he shook his head. “Even if your drawing skills are on par with mine, I’d still think yours is the best.”

He didn’t know if his answer passed the test, but he saw her smile.

A small, subtle smile—not flashy, easily missed—but brighter and more beautiful than all the sunshine of summer combined. It made his heart flutter uncontrollably.

He heard her say, “My skills aren’t even close to yours.”

A hint of playful pride.

After speaking, she left her desk and walked toward the blackboard, rolling up her sleeves and heading to the small cabinet at the back of the classroom to fetch watercolors.

A profound and lingering sensation swirled in Hou Zihao’s heart. He smiled and quickly followed her, taking the palette of watercolors from her hands. “These need water, right? I’ll go fetch some for you.”

Unabashed affection and attentiveness.

As if every glance and gesture was a confession to her.

________________________________________

Author’s Note:

Little Hou: National-level athlete in pole-climbing events.