DXXZL - 7

The commotion drew attention, especially Zhang Sheng’s loud cursing. The teacher in charge of the equipment room walked in and, upon seeing the tense standoff between the boys, immediately scolded them: “What are you doing? Do you want to fight or what?”

The only one who wanted to fight was Zhang Sheng.

Since Zhang Sheng had said he wanted to mess with Jiang Tu, Cao Ming—being such close friends with him—felt obligated to play along. How else could they call each other brothers in the future? The other boy had been dragged into the situation against his will. While he didn’t particularly like Jiang Tu, he certainly didn’t want to escalate things to a physical fight.

The boy quickly defended himself: “Teacher, we’re innocent! We weren’t fighting!”

The equipment teacher clearly didn’t believe him and warned: “You know that fighting on school grounds results in disciplinary action, right?”

“Yes, I do. And I won’t fight on school grounds, so please don’t worry, teacher,” Jiang Tu replied calmly. He brushed the dust off his glasses, put them back on, picked up the basketball, grabbed a tennis racket from the side, and headed straight for the door. “I’m going back to class.”

The equipment teacher: “….”

He turned around and called out—hey, what did this student mean? Not fighting on school grounds but implying he might fight elsewhere?

Jiang Tu returned to the playground, tossed the basketball to Ding Xiang, and handed the tennis racket to Zhu Xingyao, who had mentioned earlier that she wanted to play tennis.

Zhu Xingyao hesitated for a moment before quickly saying, “Thank you.”

Jiang Tu nodded briefly and turned to leave.

Ding Xiang called out to him: “Jiang Tu, aren’t you playing basketball?”

“No.”

He wasn’t in the mood to play. Turning around, he headed toward the track field.

Zhu Xingyao held the tennis racket and glanced back. Other boys were playing basketball or engaging in some sport during their PE class, but Jiang Tu always ran a few laps and left.

After completing a 3,000-meter run, Jiang Tu, drenched in sweat, made his way back to the teaching building. As he passed by the first-floor physics office, two tall boys walked out. They lazily trailed behind him as one of them joked grumpily, “Damn it, I heard the whole grade is spreading rumors that I got first place. Who the hell started that?”

“Hahaha! What can we say? Everyone has high expectations of you! Getting second place in your first competition isn’t bad at all—it just doesn’t quite match your ‘male god’ status.”

“Shut up!” the boy shot back. “I just hope Zhu Xingyao doesn’t think I came in first too, only to find out I didn’t.”

Jiang Tu suddenly stopped in his tracks at the second-floor corner, looking down below.

Lu Ji looked up and met his gaze. He paused, feeling like the person seemed somewhat familiar.

Xu Xiangyang slung an arm over Lu Ji’s shoulder and whispered, “Keep your voice down! We’re still close to the office. What if a teacher hears us?”

No matter which high school you’re in, early romance is strictly prohibited. Jiang Cheng No. 1 High School was particularly strict about this, calling parents at even the slightest hint of a budding relationship. In short, they aimed to nip any romantic feelings in the bud.

Still, the restlessness of adolescence was something no one could fully explain or suppress. It was as if, once you reached this age, these feelings would uncontrollably sprout and grow, impossible to hold back.

It was no secret among their close circle of friends that Lu Ji liked Zhu Xingyao.

“What are you staring at…” Xu Xiangyang followed Lu Ji’s gaze upward and was startled by Jiang Tu’s calm, penetrating stare. After meeting his eyes briefly, Jiang Tu walked away. Xu Xiangyang blinked, pointing vaguely at the air above and asking Lu Ji, “Wasn’t that Jiang Tu from the neighboring class?”

The preliminary physics competition had taken place in early September, right after the start of the school year. Jiang Tu had initially intended to participate and attended meetings with students like Lu Ji and Xu Xiangyang in the office, exchanging brief greetings. Zhu Xingyao had also been there.

However, Zhu Xingyao had declined to compete, stating she didn’t need a guaranteed university admission slot. No amount of persuasion from the teachers worked. She left the office, and every boy’s gaze followed her—including Lu Ji’s. Only Jiang Tu didn’t turn his head; his gaze remained fixed outside the window, calm and detached.

Lu Ji recalled this and nodded: “It’s him. He changed his glasses—I almost didn’t recognize him.”

Xu Xiangyang clicked his tongue a few times: “No wonder… he looks much better now, almost on par with you.”

Lu Ji smirked but didn’t respond. Both Class 7 and Class 8 of Grade 1 were on the third floor. As they passed by Class 7, Jiang Tu leaned casually against the wall, legs stretched out, tilting his head back as he drank water.

Lu Ji glanced down at the ground floor. Zhu Xingyao and a few other girls had already reached the base of the teaching building. He peeked inside Class 7, where Jiang Tu was sitting along with a few other girls. Sliding his arm over Xu Xiangyang’s shoulders, Lu Ji entered through the back door of Class 7. “We’re not supposed to disrupt class, so let’s hang out here for now and go back later.”

“Ah…” Xu Xiangyang allowed himself to be pulled in. “Alright, fine.”

Lu Ji sat down in Ding Xiang’s seat and turned to Jiang Tu with a smile. “Mind if we sit here for a while?”

Jiang Tu set down his water bottle and glanced at him. “Do as you please.”

True to his word, Lu Ji acted completely casual. He then asked, “Can I borrow some paper and a pen?”

Without saying a word, Jiang Tu pushed over a piece of scratch paper and a pen. Lu Ji took them and began scribbling furiously on the paper. “It’s a shame you didn’t participate in the competition. There was a tough question in the final round that I overlooked and ended up getting wrong.”

Lu Ji and Jiang Tu were polar opposites. Lu Ji was always surrounded by a group of friends and was popular among both boys and girls. Lin Jiayu had mentioned several times how Zhu Xingyao, the school’s “goddess,” and Lu Ji, the “male god,” were often talked about together.

“Wanna give it a try?”

Lu Ji placed the notebook in front of Jiang Tu.

Just as Jiang Tu was about to decline, he glanced down and saw the page filled with messy handwriting. His expression grew slightly complicated—he hadn’t realized Lu Ji’s handwriting was so atrocious.

The next moment, Zhu Xingyao’s voice came from the doorway: “Lu Ji? Did you get it wrong? They’re supposed to come back tomorrow.” She stepped into the classroom and looked up to see Lu Ji sitting beside Jiang Tu. Lu Ji was smiling brightly at her, exuding warmth, while Jiang Tu, wearing glasses, sat quietly beside him, creating a striking contrast.

Both of them were looking at her.

She stood there, mouth slightly agape, at a loss for words. Lu Ji raised his hand cheerfully: “You didn’t get it wrong—we came back half a day early.”

What shocked Zhu Xingyao wasn’t just Lu Ji’s early return but also the sight of him sitting at the same desk as Jiang Tu. Coming to her senses, she looked at Lu Ji, thought for a moment, and said, “Congratulations…”

“Wait.”

Lu Ji cut her off, fearing she’d say something like, “Congratulations on coming in first place,” which would embarrass him.

He scratched his nose awkwardly: “Uh, no, I didn’t get first place. I came in second.”

Zhu Xingyao smiled: “That’s still impressive.”

Lu Ji seized the opportunity: “I was just saying there’s a tough question I couldn’t solve. I asked Jiang Tu to give it a try since he got a perfect score in physics during the entrance exam. Do you want to take a look?”

Jiang Tu lowered his eyes, knowing full well that Lu Ji was just using this as an excuse to talk to Zhu Xingyao. Without showing any emotion, he picked up the pen and began solving the problem.

“Go take a look,” Li Xixi nudged Zhu Xingyao forward. “You’ve got strong physics genes. I believe you can handle it.”

“Well, alright. I’ll give it a try.”

Zhu Xingyao walked over, followed by Zhou Qian and a few other girls.

Jiang Tu handed her the problem. Zhu Xingyao blinked: “Aren’t you going to solve it too?”

“I’ve already memorized the question.”

Zhu Xingyao took the notebook and glanced at the handwriting, which resembled an indecipherable script. She pursed her lips silently. Though she had heard that Lu Ji’s handwriting was atrocious, seeing it in person was still quite a shock. Li Xixi suddenly coughed and, after glancing at Lu Ji’s handsome features, diplomatically remarked, “Lu, your handwriting is truly… unique!”

Lu Ji’s handwriting was the kind that prompted immediate complaints from anyone who saw it. He looked at Zhu Xingyao and cleared his throat awkwardly: “Uh… can you even read this?”

Zhu Xingyao responded tactfully: “If I look at it a few more times, I’ll get it. Your handwriting… it’s similar to my mom’s prescriptions in medical records. I’m used to reading them.”

The subtext: Thankfully, my mom’s a doctor; otherwise, I wouldn’t be able to decipher this either.

Lu Ji: “….”

Everyone burst into laughter. Xu Xiangyang chimed in with a jab: “Exactly! It’s like a doctor’s prescription—takes forever to figure out what it says.”

Lu Ji chuckled nonchalantly: “Well, I’m planning to become a doctor in the future. Everyone’s welcome to come see me for appointments.”

Xu Xiangyang: “Hell no! Who wants to go to the hospital?!”

The group laughed even harder.

Zhu Xingyao smiled as she sat down at the desk in front of Jiang Tu and extended her hand toward him: “Jiang Tu, can I borrow a pen?”

Jiang Tu paused, glancing briefly at her delicate hand before placing the pen he was holding into her palm. He then picked up another one for himself—he only had two pens, and the one he handed over had smoother ink flow.

Jiang Tu and Zhu Xingyao worked on their problems face-to-face, seemingly undisturbed by the lively chatter around them. Out of the corner of his eye, Jiang Tu noticed her slender white fingers and elegant handwriting. He even made an observation: whenever she was deep in thought, she habitually pressed the tip of the pen against the corner of her mouth, instinctively about to bite it.

He quickly spoke up: “Don’t bite it.”

His voice was low and cold, carrying a hint of sharpness.

Zhu Xingyao was startled and immediately realized what she was doing. She gave an awkward smile: “Sorry, it’s a habit. I forgot it was your pen…”

“Dirty,” he said curtly.

Everyone froze for a moment. Lu Ji glanced first at Jiang Tu, then at the old fountain pen, and gently reminded her: “Pens have bacteria. Don’t bite it.”

Zhu Xingyao nodded absentmindedly, though she wasn’t sure whether Jiang Tu meant the act of biting was unhygienic or that the pen itself was dirty…

She lowered her head and murmured softly: “Okay…”

Jiang Tu knew she might have misunderstood but narrowed his eyes slightly and ultimately decided not to explain. The pen he had just picked up wasn’t dispensing ink smoothly, so he forcefully scribbled a few strokes. The ink finally flowed, almost piercing through the paper.

A few minutes later, the bell rang, signaling the end of class. The entire teaching building buzzed with activity. A group of boys who had just finished playing basketball returned to the classroom, sweaty and curious about the crowd surrounding Jiang Tu’s seat.

“What’s going on here?”

“Oh, Lu Ji said there was a tough competition problem, so he asked Jiang Tu and Zhu Xingyao to give it a try.”

“Huh? Lu Ji’s back?”

In no time, everyone gathered around, forming tight layers of spectators.

Jiang Tu frowned slightly and quickened his pace. After a minute, he stopped writing and placed his answer in front of Lu Ji.

Lu Ji glanced at it, raising an eyebrow slightly—the answer was correct.

His attention, however, remained on Zhu Xingyao. Just by looking at her steps, he could tell she had made a mistake—similar to the one he had made initially.

When the bell rang, Zhu Xingyao finally stopped writing. She looked up at Jiang Tu: “Let’s compare answers.”

Jiang Tu glanced at her solution and said nothing.

He pulled the notebook back and placed it in front of her.

Zhu Xingyao looked at it, then turned to Lu Ji. Lu Ji’s lips curved slightly: “Unfortunately, your answer is wrong.”

Just as his words faded, a shout came from the doorway: “Holy crap! Lu Ji and Xu Xiangyang, how dare you skip your own class and hang out in Class 7? Are you trying to become son-in-laws here?”

Lu Ji: “….”

Xu Xiangyang: “….”

Everyone else: “…………”

After a brief silence, the room erupted into laughter. A girl from Class 8 shouted: “I object! Lu Ji belongs to our class!”

Lu Ji felt a headache coming on.

The boy outside continued shouting: “Xu Xiangyang, you’re still the class monitor of Class 8! Get your ass out here!”

Xu Xiangyang thought inwardly: What does this have to do with me? The one who wants to be a son-in-law is Lu Ji!

Suddenly, Jiang Tu stood up. His expression remained completely neutral as he looked at the crowd blocking the doorway. In a flat tone, he said: “Excuse me. I need to step out for a moment.”

The laughter in the room dimmed, and everyone quietly moved aside to let him pass. As soon as he walked out, the doorway became congested again.

A group of boys who had just finished playing basketball squeezed together, reeking of sweat. The air was stifling. Zhu Xingyao picked up Jiang Tu’s notebook and waved it at Ding Xiang: “Tell Jiang Tu I borrowed it to take a look.”

Ding Xiang quickly replied: “No problem, feel free to take it.”

He sounded so casual, as if the notebook belonged to him.

Zhu Xingyao returned to her seat with Li Xixi. Meanwhile, Lu Ji and Xu Xiangyang exited through the back door of Class 7. Zhou Yuan stood in the corridor, grinning as he watched them. Lu Ji walked over and kicked him lightly: “What’s wrong with you? Why did you yell ‘son-in-law’?”

Zhou Yuan yelped in pain, lowering his voice to ask: “Aren’t you interested in the goddess?”

“Even if I am, this isn’t the way to go about it. It’d only make things awkward.” Lu Ji leaned lazily against the railing, then suddenly remembered something important. Turning to Zhou Yuan, he asked: “By the way, what about the thing I asked you to buy for me?”

“Don’t worry, I’ll bring it to you tomorrow.”

“Alright, thanks.” Lu Ji patted his shoulder with a smile. “I’ll treat you to barbecue later.”

Because of Lu Ji’s return, the corridor was livelier than usual. When the bell rang for the next class, everyone reluctantly headed back to their classrooms. There was still one more class before dismissal.

Jiang Tu washed his face in the restroom and returned to the classroom just as the bell rang.

His notebook, passed along row by row, finally reached him. The girl sitting in front of him handed it over with a small smile: “Zhu Xingyao asked me to pass this to you.”

“Thanks,” he said, taking the notebook and sitting down.

It was the first time the girl had heard him say “thank you,” and she couldn’t help but feel flattered.

Ding Xiang leaned over, pointing to the page filled with Lu Ji’s messy handwriting, and mercilessly criticized it: “Look at Lu Ji—he’s so handsome, and his grades are great. Who would’ve thought his handwriting could be this ugly? Even my left hand writes better than this. So yeah, people can’t be perfect.” He paused, then quickly added: “Well, except for my goddess. She’s flawless.”

Jiang Tu noticed a few elegant words written at the bottom of the scratch paper: Thank you, I understand now.

He leaned against the wall, his eyes lowered, and murmured softly: “Mm.”

Mm?

Ding Xiang was momentarily confused. He turned to look at Jiang Tu, unsure which question he was responding to—whether he agreed that Ding Xiang’s left-handed handwriting was better than Lu Ji’s messy scrawl or whether he shared Ding Xiang’s opinion that Zhu Xingyao was perfect.

The last class of the day was history—a notoriously sleep-inducing subject, especially for boys who had just finished gym class. A large number of students had already dozed off. Jiang Tu glanced sideways at Ding Xiang, who was snoring lightly in his sleep, while absentmindedly twirling a black water-based pen in his left hand. Suddenly, his thumb pressed down on the button.

A few seconds later, he stared at the three crooked words on the scratch paper, then abruptly tore it off, crumpled it into a ball, and tossed it aside.

When the dismissal bell rang, Jiang Tu slung his bag over his shoulder, threw the crumpled paper into the trash can, and walked out of the classroom. At the bike shed, he encountered Zhang Sheng, who was leaning casually against his bike, flipping him the middle finger.

Jiang Tu remained expressionless as he mounted his bike and rode away.

This scene was witnessed by Ding Xiang and two other boys.

The next morning during reading class, Ding Xiang couldn’t help but warn Jiang Tu: “Although Zhang Sheng is pretty annoying, it’s best to avoid him. His family has money, and if you really get into trouble with him, it’ll be a hassle.”

Jiang Tu wasn’t afraid of loan sharks chasing him for debts—how could he possibly fear Zhang Sheng? Still, he said politely: “Thanks.”

…

Two envelopes slipped out of Zhu Xingyao’s desk. Li Xixi quickly stepped on them and, taking advantage of the others not paying attention, picked them up. She turned to Zhu Xingyao, grinning slyly like a little fox: “Shall I open them for you?”

Since the start of the school year, love letters had been a constant presence in Zhu Xingyao’s desk. She rarely opened them herself; Li Xixi always handled that task. Sneakily hunched over her desk, Li Xixi began opening the letters while whispering updates: “This one’s from someone in Class 9, this one’s from Class 15, and this one’s from Class 1—I know him, he’s on the basketball team, pretty good physique…”

Zhu Xingyao simply responded with an “Oh” to acknowledge she’d heard.

Li Xixi crumpled the letters into balls and tossed them into the desk drawer. Turning back to Zhu Xingyao, she smiled brightly: “They’re all just plain-looking losers, not worth your time. But…” She leaned closer to whisper conspiratorially, “What if Lu Ji wrote you a love letter? Would you accept it?”

Zhu Xingyao: “….”

Li Xixi continued: “Lu Ji is handsome, has great grades, and many girls adore him. There’s no guy in the entire grade who can compare to him, right?”

Zhu Xingyao thought about Lu Ji’s “doctor’s prescription handwriting” and found it hard to imagine him writing a love letter. She replied: “Impossible.”

Sometimes, the more impossible something seems, the more likely it is to happen.

…

In the neighboring Class 8, Zhou Yuan arrived late and was scolded by Teacher Xie Ya before sheepishly returning to his seat.

Lu Ji glanced up at him. “You stayed up all night gaming again?”

“Bullshit,” Zhou Yuan retorted, pulling a delicate envelope from his bag and handing it over. “I forgot this thing when I left home, so I had to go back. Do you know how hard it was? This is the concert ticket you asked me to buy—it wasn’t easy to get, had to pay a scalper high prices. Don’t forget to pay me back.”

It was a ticket to the Chen Lan Orchestra cello concert, scheduled for this weekend.

Lu Ji glanced at it and smiled. “Thanks.”

Teacher Xie Ya stood at the podium, glaring coldly in their direction. Zhou Yuan quickly zipped his lips shut. Once she left, he turned to Lu Ji and asked: “How are you planning to give it to her? Are you giving it to her directly?” He offered some advice: “I think it’s best not to. What if she’s already seen it? If she rejects you face-to-face, wouldn’t that be embarrassing? I can’t bear to watch.”

“I don’t plan to give it to her in person,” Lu Ji paused. “I’ll put it in her desk after school. She’ll see it tomorrow morning.”

“Do you want me to write something for you?” Zhou Yuan stifled a laugh. “Your handwriting’s too ugly—you might get rejected just because of that.”

Lu Ji: “Go away.”

…

Today was Jiang Tu’s turn to clean up. He was the last to leave, just about to close the classroom door, when Lu Ji suddenly rushed in, breathless, bracing himself against the doorframe. He looked at Jiang Tu: “Wait, let me borrow a pen.”

Jiang Tu glanced at him, took a pen from the desk, and handed it over.

Soon after, Zhou Yuan came running up.

Lu Ji sat down at Ding Xiang’s desk and turned to warn Zhou Yuan: “Don’t even think about it. There’s no way I’m letting you handle this for me.”

Zhou Yuan caught his breath and slumped into the adjacent seat. “Fine, fine, fine. My goodwill gets mistaken for ill intentions. I’m done caring.”

Jiang Tu didn’t know what they were up to. He turned to Lu Ji: “I’m locking the door soon. Hurry up and write whatever you need to.”

Then, he watched as Lu Ji placed an exquisite envelope on the desk—unlike ordinary love letter envelopes, this one was wide and elaborately designed with a golden cover that read: Cello Concert Ticket.

Lu Ji carefully pressed a sticky note under his hand and meticulously wrote a few words, clearly making an effort to keep his handwriting neat.

He slipped the note into the envelope, stood up, and waved it teasingly at Zhou Yuan, smirking lazily: “Now it won’t get mistaken for trash and thrown away. Get it? Idiot.”

Jiang Tu watched silently as Lu Ji walked over to Zhu Xingyao’s desk, placed the envelope inside, and left.