SW - 9

On the other side of the classroom.

Lu Ye and Wang Shuai exchanged knowing glances. Just that morning, they had heard him say he’d need it for class this afternoon, only for it to be borrowed immediately.

Who else could have borrowed it but Tang Yin?

So this was how you flirted with someone—next time, he’d try the same thing.

“Top students really do have their ways.”

“Respect, respect. Can’t mess with them.”

The two huddled together whispering. When it came to Tang Yin’s affairs, the entire high school department was abuzz with gossip because she was so bold—like a blazing fire.

And yet, this transfer student was just too quiet.

It was normal for good students to be quiet, but when Lu Ye first met Lu Chi, he thought he seemed unnervingly calm. Only later did he learn it was because of his stutter, although he didn’t appear particularly insecure about it.

Over the course of a week, Lu Ye had spoken to him a few times. Whenever Lu Chi glanced over, Lu Ye would inexplicably forget what he wanted to say—it was strange.

He still remembered something his father used to say:

There are some people who make you instinctively feel inferior in their presence.

He wanted to go back and tell his dad—he had encountered this exact feeling in front of an ordinary bookworm.

That night, after evening self-study ended, Tang Yin washed her uniform and hung it up on the balcony, placing it where the sunlight was strongest during the day.

Zhang Mei, who had returned from washing clothes behind the dormitory, noticed the best spot was taken and asked curiously, “Whose uniform is this? It suddenly looks several sizes bigger.”

Su Kexi leaned against the wall and jerked her chin upward.

“Oh, got it,” Zhang Mei said, winking exaggeratedly.

She hadn’t paid much attention until now, but Tang Yin was truly impressive. In such a short time, she had managed to get hold of someone’s uniform—it wouldn’t be long before she captured the person entirely.

Suddenly, a lazy voice drifted down from above: “If you’re going to exchange flirty looks, just be bold about it.”

Su Kexi chewed her gum and kicked her legs onto the bed. “Tang Yin, you traitor! You’ve forgotten your old friend for a new love interest. I raised you with blood, sweat, and tears, wiping your poop and feeding you spoon by spoon, and this is how you repay me!”

“...Get lost.” Tang Yin tossed a crumpled draft paper at her.

After finishing hanging her clothes, Zhang Mei sidled over. “Is she really into that guy from the experimental class?”

“How could it be fake? Look at her today—she’s glowing, full of affection. Didn’t you see them discussing problems after class earlier? Oh my goodness, that scene…” Su Kexi grabbed Zhang Mei’s arm and whispered animatedly about the day’s events.

“Never saw it coming,” Zhang Mei said, wide-eyed.

Her relationship with Tang Yin wasn’t as close as Su Kexi’s, but she understood Tang Yin’s style well. Except for a few individuals, Tang Yin generally ignored everyone else.

Especially boys. Over the past three years, countless admirers had tried to win her heart, but none had succeeded—until now.

It seemed she needed to warn her friends in the experimental class: if they liked anyone, they shouldn’t set their sights on the new transfer student.

The giggling didn’t last long before the dorm supervisor blew her whistle outside.

Jia Shui Private School prioritized academic performance, so student management was stricter than usual. While most schools ended evening self-study around nine o’clock, here it went until ten forty.

As a result, returning to the dorms always kept them busy, and they often stayed up past eleven.

Not long after lights-out, the unshuttered balcony echoed with the sound of heavy raindrops pattering noisily.

The weather gods were unkind—it was raining.

The next morning, Tang Yin woke up to find her uniform still damp, which put her in a foul mood.

The rain persisted for several days, and Tang Yin’s mood remained gloomy.

From 5·3 practice books to Wang Hou Xiong , accompanied by stacks of test papers and problem sets, she managed to distract herself from unpleasant thoughts.

“Sigh, when top students are upset, they solve problems,” Su Kexi muttered, bored, resting her chin on her hand.

This period was Chinese class. The Chinese teacher was notoriously verbose, often droning on endlessly during double periods. More talkative than even the homeroom teacher, he usually only began explaining actual questions in the final ten minutes.

His favorite activity was assigning essays, using both periods for them.

Seeing her desk-mate’s serious expression, Su Kexi dared not disturb her. Glancing forward absentmindedly, she spotted something odd.

She poked the person in front of her with her pen. “Zhang Mei, what are you doing?”

Zhang Mei abruptly sat upright, then nervously patted her chest and rolled her eyes while covering her mouth. “Holy crap, you scared me! I thought the homeroom teacher had sneaked in from behind.”

Tang Yin also looked over. Instead of books, Zhang Mei’s desk drawer held a chaotic assortment of small scissors, long straws, and other miscellaneous items. “What are those colorful things?”

“Folding pentagrams,” Zhang Mei murmured, her cheeks slightly flushed. “I’m folding five hundred and twenty of them—you know what that means, right?”

As she spoke, she discreetly passed something over from under her desk.

Tang Yin reached out to take it, examining it with Su Kexi using the bookshelf as cover.

Inside a dainty glass bottle sealed with a wooden cork, colorful pentagrams filled the space. Each was folded from thin strips of paper, tightly packed like a jar brimming with a girl’s secrets.

Zhang Mei’s crush on the class president was an open secret in the dormitory. Sometimes, her roommates teased her about it. Despite being carefree for over a decade, she had been too shy to confess her feelings for half a year. Occasionally, her friends even helped create opportunities for her.

Zhang Mei whispered, “I checked. His birthday is at the end of next month.”

Tang Yin asked, “Are you planning to give it to him on that day?”

“Mm-hmm,” Zhang Mei twirled her fingers nervously. “You guys have been encouraging me to confess. Now that we’re in our final year of high school, I want to give it a shot myself.”

She had hesitated to confess for a reason.

If the class president didn’t reciprocate her feelings, being in the same class would make things awkward for a long time. That was her greatest fear.

But seeing Tang Yin’s bold actions these past few days had given her courage. Even if things didn’t work out, at least they could remain strangers—it might even help her get over him sooner.

Though she said this, deep down, she still hoped for success.

“Then go for it,” Tang Yin said casually, spinning her pen. “I heard a girl from Class Thirteen likes him too.”

Zhang Mei panicked for a moment. “Really?”

Her voice was a bit loud, drawing the teacher’s glance. She quickly turned around and pretended to read her book.

Less than a minute later, Zhang Mei secretly handed Tang Yin a few light green paper strips, likely because of what Tang Yin had just said.

Tang Yin set her pen down, suddenly intrigued. Watching Zhang Mei’s movements, she folded a small pentagram and placed it in her pencil case.

A faint smile unconsciously bloomed in her eyes.

After a short while, Su Kexi couldn’t resist leaning over. “How come I didn’t know someone from Class Thirteen liked the class president?”

“Oh, I made it up.”

“...”

Tang Yin appeared unfazed. “Since she’s made up her mind and put in some effort, the class president should see it. There’s a saying, isn’t there? ‘I like you—it has nothing to do with you.’”

“But what if the class president doesn’t like her? You know his personality.” Su Kexi worried. “It’d be bad if Zhang Mei gets hurt.”

Tang Yin glanced at her. “How will we know unless she tries?”

Su Kexi nodded. “True. Then, should you try something like this to capture Lu Chi?”

Without waiting for a response, Su Kexi teased, “I think you might as well give him your study materials. Two top students together—solving problems is their idea of fun.”

This was precisely why the top-ranking class representatives often ended up dating each other, and the teachers would turn a blind eye.

Everything depended on grades—if you didn’t have them, you were just cannon fodder.

Tang Yin gave her an ambiguous smile and then pulled out a Huanggang Secret Test Paper from under her desk.

Su Kexi’s eyes widened. “Oh no, when did you get the Huanggang ? Stay away from me! Just seeing it gives me a headache!”

The Huanggang Secret Test Papers were her worst nightmare.

In the past, to get closer to Lu Yu, she had fought her way from the last exam room to the fifth one. Her desk was filled with Huanggang papers, and she practically drowned in them day and night. Now, just seeing them made her feel unwell.

Compared to those, 5·3 and Wang Hou Xiong felt like angels sent from heaven.

Tang Yin didn’t even look up. “Turn your precious head away.”

Su Kexi suddenly realized. “Oh, right.”

She quietly turned her head and pulled out a romance novel she’d been hiding for days, deciding to cleanse her eyes.

Tang Yin was absolutely doing this on purpose!

It had been a week since Lu Chi transferred in. After the initial introduction, no one paid much attention to him—he always seemed to carry a subtle air of pride. But after two joint exams, everyone could only look up to him in awe.

Previously, Tang Yin had ranked first in the school, followed by Zhao Ruying from their class, both scoring around 700 points—a very high score. Now, Lu Chi consistently scored over 730 points. The higher the score, the harder it was to catch up—the gap between them was vast.

Technically, this period was supposed to be Chinese class, but their homeroom teacher, Mr. Wu, turned it into a class meeting instead. He spoke at length about effort, the elite zero-class that would start in two or three months, and finally let them study independently.

By senior year, almost all regular classes disappeared. Sometimes Chinese class was repurposed for extra studying, testing, or homework.

The next evening, during self-study, the student who had gone home for IV treatment returned.

“Report,” a boy called from the doorway.

The teacher waved him in.

The boy grinned as he walked toward the back row, exchanging hand gestures with a few classmates before sitting down.

Lu Chi glanced at him a few times. Perhaps because of his illness, his new deskmate looked pale, though his buzz cut gave him a sunny appearance.

“Hey there, new deskmate. I’m Tang Ming,” Tang Ming greeted cheerfully. “I heard you’re the top of our grade. If I don’t understand something in the future, I’ll definitely ask for your help.”

Lu Chi nodded slightly. “H-hello.”

Tang Ming was a bit surprised—he hadn’t expected his deskmate to stutter.

He had only heard that Lu Chi performed exceptionally well academically and rarely spoke, but no one mentioned this. Still, having dealt with similar people before, he knew how to interact politely.

Since the teacher was present, he kept his voice low, briefly introducing himself before quickly organizing his books and test papers.

They had just finished an exam yesterday, and he had missed the afternoon test while away. Now, during evening self-study, he needed to bring his books from the dormitory to the classroom. His roommate had helped carry his materials, including stacks of supplementary books, all piled onto his desk.

With the first mock exam approaching, the number of test papers would only increase. It was crucial to organize them every few days; otherwise, everything would become chaotic.

Halfway through sorting, he paused, flipping through a book before scratching his head and nudging his deskmate. “Hey, isn’t this your book?”

Lu Chi looked confused. “N-no.”

“How can it not be yours? Your name is written inside.” Tang Ming handed the math book to Lu Chi. “I wouldn’t have guessed—your handwriting is so delicate. My handwriting looks like chicken scratches. I can’t even bear to look at it myself.”

The book was opened to the title page, where “Lu Chi” was written lightly in pencil, slanted across the page.

Lu Chi froze for a moment, taking the book in his right hand and staring at it for a few seconds. He hesitantly replied, “It m-might’ve been w-written... by accident.”

The tips of his ears, hidden behind his hair, turned slightly red and warm.

“No worries, no worries,” Tang Ming said dismissively. “Probably got mixed in because my stuff is such a mess.”

He held his new deskmate in high regard. Even while resting at home, he had heard about these scores. As far as he knew, the top scorer from First High School during this joint exam still fell ten points short of Lu Chi’s score.

This carried significant weight. Jia Shui Private School, being a private institution, was often seen as an outsider by public schools. Now that it had claimed the top spot, it naturally left a bitter taste in others’ mouths.

Moreover, this was senior year. If the top scorer of the college entrance exam came from Jia Shui Private School, word would spread, and more students would flock here.

Still, the real exam hadn’t arrived yet, and these scores weren’t final.

Science subjects differed from humanities. Getting one major question right could boost your score by over ten points, whereas in humanities, answering a question might fill pages without hitting the key points. Every mock exam brought a fresh ranking.

While Tang Ming was lost in thought, he glanced over and saw his deskmate quietly erasing the name from the book.

Then, gently sliding it back.

“Why erase it?” Tang Ming wiped his face and lowered his voice. “You erased it so cleanly.”

The teacher was watching over the self-study session from the podium, but Tang Ming couldn’t resist breaking the silence.

A few seconds later, he whispered again: “If you’d left the signature, maybe after the college entrance exam, I could’ve shown it off. The top student of Jia Shui Private School, the future top scorer of H City—and my deskmate!”

Endless chatter, boundless energy.

Lu Chi couldn’t help but ask: “Do all of you surnamed T-Tang like to t-talk so much?”

Hearing this, Tang Ming was baffled. “People surnamed Tang? There’s only me with the surname Tang in the experimental class. Who else has the same surname? Introduce me—I bet we might even be related five hundred years ago...”

But his deskmate offered no response.