TPIL - 2

In middle school, every day was filled with classes. Occasionally, passing by the walls of the Arts and Physical Education building, one could spot the “bad kids” hiding there to smoke. If their eyes met, it spelled trouble—getting robbed of a week’s worth of pocket money wasn’t out of the question. Qi Xiaochuan had never fallen victim, but he often heard classmates complain bitterly about such incidents, which significantly lowered the overall happiness of campus life.

It wasn’t until the next semester that the true disaster arrived, crashing into his life like Godzilla making landfall.

Qi Xiaochuan earned a new nickname. Whether it was meant maliciously or not was debatable—it was undeniably ugly. Teenagers were far from mature, and those who followed him around calling him “Child Bride” certainly weren’t kind. Every day after school, Luo Andi would have her driver take a five-kilometer detour just to pick him up at the school gate. He didn’t know whether to get in the car or not, so he often made excuses about staying behind for tutoring.

At the end-of-term exams, Qi Xiaochuan managed to secure first place in his grade. When he went on stage to receive his award during the summary ceremony, he couldn’t help but think about the reasons behind his success, and his face darkened to the point of absurdity. The photo taken with the principal was later criticized by classmates who already disliked him: “What’s with that arrogant attitude?”

If you can avoid trouble, it’s not really trouble.

Getting through the school day was manageable, but escaping once he got home was impossible. Sometimes, when he avoided her too much, his parents would even turn against him, completely oblivious to the atmosphere, pushing him into the fire and gleefully adding fuel to it: “Xiaochuan, don’t be so shy.”

Shy, my ass.

Though he knew his parents didn’t—and wouldn’t dare—have any ulterior motives, adults often misunderstood children’s affairs, especially when it came to Luo Andi’s enthusiastic advances. He found it utterly spine-chilling. In such awkward situations, if she were a girl close to her parents, maybe she’d have confided in them and resolved things after some hesitation—after all, communication solves problems. Unfortunately, Qi Xiaochuan was a boy, a teenager with an overinflated sense of pride, and he simply couldn’t bring himself to say anything.

Even if he could overcome his shame, he wouldn’t know how to start. Back then, Luo Andi was still in elementary school—he was just being pestered by a kid. Qi Xiaochuan consoled himself, that was all.

During summer break, he would tutor her in English.

Luo Andi’s bedroom was on the second floor, beautifully decorated. Outside the glass window, lush leaves swayed, and through the gaps, one could see the mirror-like surface of the garden pond. She loved that pond dearly. On his way home from school, he often saw her gazing out the window. If she happened to spot him, she would immediately wave enthusiastically, her voice ringing out sharply: “Xiao Xiao! Xiao Xiao!”

Her grammar was better than her peers’, but she couldn’t remember words to save her life. So, during their private tutoring sessions, he would usually lean against the desk with a book in hand while she sat, slowly spelling out letters one by one. She would stumble frequently, and he would interrupt her just as often.

Qi Xiaochuan didn’t consider himself a good teacher. He lacked patience and harbored biases against his student. Honestly, he thought it was a waste of time. She hadn’t even started middle school yet—why rush? But Luo Andi smiled and said, “Because this way I can talk to you every day.”

He was left speechless.

Then she added, “And Chuisun is working so hard too.”

“He’s a genius,” Qi Xiaochuan replied, uninterested in flattery.

After living with the Luo family for so long, saying such complimentary words came naturally to him. Besides, Luo Andi’s twin brother, Luo Chuisun, truly was a prodigy. By the age of four, he knew over five hundred Chinese characters, and by third grade, he had passed the screening for a prestigious university’s gifted youth program. His parents, considerate as they were, only sent him after obtaining his consent. He thrived there, enjoying his studies immensely.

During breaks, Qi Xiaochuan would accompany Luo Andi on walks around the garden. She would chatter nonstop, always having something to say. Meanwhile, he remained silent, like a deaf-mute scholarship student sponsored by a princess out of charity.

The Luo family placed immense importance on rituals. It wasn’t just anniversaries—they even hosted family concerts. Many relatives and friends, including the kids who had once pressured Qi Xiaochuan to jump into the pond, were invited to attend.

Madam Luo played the piano, Luo Chuisun the viola, and Mr. Luo and Luo Andi played the violin.

When they rehearsed, Luo Andi’s tutoring naturally had to be postponed. This was Qi Xiaochuan’s rare downtime, when he could read or take a nap. Their house, located in a corner of the Luo estate, would also receive invitations. The strains of string music drifted through the windows.

This quaint, picture-perfect family concert had nothing to do with Qi Xiaochuan. He had no interest in it, so he never attended.

But how could Luo Andi let him off the hook? One day, as soon as he stepped through the door, he spotted a pair of small leather shoes placed by the entrance. A single pair of Luo Andi’s shoes cost as much as three years of Qi Xiaochuan’s tuition. Even drenched in sweat under the scorching sun, she insisted on carrying her violin to his house to perform for him. With his E-grade performance in music evaluations, Qi Xiaochuan was forced to listen to the entire recital and clap politely, pretending to appreciate the wasted time.

She looked at him, her eyes sparkling like glitter: “What do you think of my bowing technique?”

If he only had to answer “good” or “not good,” he would’ve simply said “good.” But when pressed for specifics, Qi Xiaochuan suddenly turned serious: “You should ask your teacher about that.” This startled his mother, who quickly ushered Luo Andi out for snacks.

Their school had a direct-entry system from middle to high school. When Qi Xiaochuan learned that Luo Andi had given up a private middle school and specifically tested into their school, he felt as though he’d lost a parent.

By then, he had just entered the high school division. Many of his classmates from the same school were well aware of his infamous past. To make matters worse, on the first day of school, both he and Luo Andi gave speeches as representatives of the new students—one for high school and one for middle school. He was the top scorer upon entry, while her grades were merely above average. It was hard to say what the criteria were, but being heckled from the audience with cries of “Child Bride” during his speech was hardly a proud moment.

They didn’t hesitate to tease him mercilessly, asking, “Where’s your fiancée?” Even the adults caught on, half-jokingly referring to him as “Luo Andi’s little boyfriend.”

As the other party involved, Luo Andi never seemed upset by such teasing—or rather, she never seemed upset by anything. No matter what jokes were made, most people wouldn’t enjoy being the butt of someone else’s laughter. Yet Luo Andi never showed a hint of dissatisfaction. She would simply smile sweetly and say, “Don’t do that, Xiao Xiao will get mad.”

Immediately, a group of people would follow up by calling him “Xiao Xiao,” exaggerating their tone to sound as obnoxious as possible.

Despite all this pressure, Qi Xiaochuan still went to school with Luo Andi every day—not out of willingness, but because he had no choice. At his wit’s end, he often had to muster all his strength just to resist punching himself in the forehead.

Qi Xiaochuan deeply resented his past self. Why hadn’t he just spoken up clearly—”I’ve had enough,” “I don’t want to babysit,” or even more harshly, “I hate Luo Andi.”

Anything to set boundaries.

But if he had said those things, he might have become the enemy of the entire school.

Teachers, security guards, janitors, and even cafeteria workers—all spoke of Luo Andi with fond smiles. Among so many school staff, it was rare for anyone to recognize a particular student, let alone leave a positive impression.

This was all thanks to Luo Andi’s princess-like charm. From a young age, she was the type to greet roadside stall owners selling roasted gluten. Coupled with her stunning looks and undeniable warmth, it was hard for anyone not to like her.

In any group, there were bound to be unusual characters. In middle school, there was a classmate in Luo Andi’s class. Weighing 220 pounds, her appearance stood out—not in a good way. Her acne-scarred face highlighted her plain features. Not only that, but she had an overly social personality, speaking rapidly like a machine gun and constantly criticizing others, leading to her ostracism while she feigned ignorance. In short, she was an unpopular child.

Qi Xiaochuan encountered her during a student council activity. Within five minutes, she interrupted him seven times, leaving a very poor impression. Notably, he was the president of the high school student council and a senior three grades above her.

The sports meet was held jointly for middle and high school students. Around campus, Qi Xiaochuan generally tried to avoid talking to Luo Andi to prevent unnecessary trouble. However, he occasionally found himself glancing toward the middle school section—a habit formed without him realizing it.

That day, for reasons unknown, this unpopular classmate actually signed up for the 3,000-meter race. Halfway through, she collapsed and crawled off the track, reeking of sweat and covered in sand from the field. Her classmates kept their distance, which was wise, because the next moment, she leaned on a desk and vomited.

The vomit spread everywhere.

Qi Xiaochuan, stationed on the track as a referee, saw it from afar and merely raised an eyebrow, holding his clipboard.

Her classmates avoided her like the plague. The girl responsible for the food reflux incident was a mess, continuously reaching out to wipe it up, only managing to dirty her hands and clothes further.

At that moment, a hand suddenly rested on her shoulder.

Someone handed her a tissue.

“Wipe yourself first,” a soft female voice said. Without hesitation, she wrung out the rag she had just washed and began wiping the table. Despite the disgusting smell of the vomit, Luo Andi didn’t seem to mind.

She busied herself, head down. Eventually, someone from the crowd stepped forward, and others brought cleaning tools, gradually joining in to help clean up.

Half a semester later, Qi Xiaochuan went to the cafeteria. Luo Andi was still surrounded by her usual entourage, but now there was a conspicuous new face among them—the girl who had been rescued during the sports meet. She appeared to be interacting normally with those around her.

That year, Christmas happened to fall on a weekend.

Overenthusiastic middle school students clamored for parties, and the celebration fever spread like wildfire. Even someone like Qi Xiaochuan, who had few friends, received an invitation, though he declined immediately.

Apparently, eight groups were vying for Luo Andi, all wanting her to join their celebrations. Since she couldn’t be divided among them, they decided to throw a joint party instead. The gathering turned into a massive, lively affair.

Qi Xiaochuan had no interest in holidays and, naturally, hadn’t prepared any gifts. He went to bed early that night. In the middle of the night, he felt something amiss and instinctively opened his eyes, only to see a shadow looming by his bed.

Terrified, thinking it was Sadako from The Ring , he nearly punched it. The lights came on just in time, revealing Luo Andi smiling sheepishly as she tucked his blanket in: “Why are you awake?”

“What… what are you doing here?!” At a moment like this, it was hard for anyone to suppress their irritation.

Instead, she suddenly pulled out a gift box, peeking out from behind it with an apple-like face, smiling brightly: “I wanted to play Santa Claus and give you a present.”

“Oh,” he grumbled, still frowning but slightly more awake. “Couldn’t you have just given it to me during the day?”

“It’s not the same at all!” She carefully placed it on his desk before heading out. At the door, she waved vigorously: “I’m leaving now.”

He got up, put on his coat, and rubbed his temples while saying, “I’ll walk you.” It wasn’t out of kindness—just duty. Letting a young girl walk home alone at night simply wasn’t decent.

Outside, snow began to fall, melting into droplets on his palm. Qi Xiaochuan was exhausted and just wanted to send her home and go back to sleep. Unfortunately, Luo Andi took her sweet time, even finding the energy to chat idly: “Can I do homework with you tomorrow?”

“Hmm?” He yawned, perhaps too tired to hold back. “What’s in it for me?”

She didn’t find the question offensive in the slightest. That night, Luo Andi wore a red woolen cloak and twirled in front of him, her braids swaying lightly. She tilted her head and grinned mischievously: “You can talk to me. Isn’t that a benefit?”