WG - 18

Chi Zhiyu was actually being kind-hearted.

After all, it was lunchtime, and seeing someone she knew, she simply thought of sharing a table. You couldn’t exactly chase someone away and not let them sit down.

That would have been too petty.

“I thought you’d find some way to reject him, but I didn’t expect you to just let him sit down,” Wu Xuan glanced at her. “I even thought you might have changed your mind.”

“Changed my mind?” Chi Zhiyu laughed. “What kind of phrasing is that?”

Wu Xuan teased, “Thinking maybe you’ve realized how good Jiang Jinxu is and suddenly taken a liking to him.”

“Dream on?” Chi Zhiyu raised an eyebrow.

Wu Xuan chuckled as they walked toward the teaching building. “But seriously, what do you think of Jiang Jinxu?”

Chi Zhiyu thought for a moment. “He’s pretty nice.”

Wu Xuan nodded in agreement, then waited a few seconds. “Hmm? That’s it?”

Chi Zhiyu blinked. “Handsome?”

“...”

Wu Xuan asked, “Why are you using such a questioning tone?”

Chi Zhiyu shrugged. “Isn’t that from your perspective?”

Wu Xuan retorted, “He’s my god, of course I think he’s handsome!”

“Oh, alright.”

Chi Zhiyu said dismissively, “He’s very handsome.”

Seeing her casual response, Wu Xuan glanced at her. “So I take it you only think Xie Ye is handsome, right?”

Hearing this, Chi Zhiyu lazily responded with an “Ah,” “Probably.”

Wu Xuan clicked her tongue. “Poor Jiang Jinxu. He’s handsome and has a great personality.”

“What’s there to feel sorry about?” Chi Zhiyu yawned. “I’m just advising him to focus on studying.”

“I’m not so sure,” Wu Xuan analyzed. “Today he ate with you, and he might feel quite happy about it.”

Chi Zhiyu raised an eyebrow. “This makes him happy?”

“?”

“If dancing together every day doesn’t make him faint with happiness, what does?”

“...”

As they walked upstairs, Wu Xuan was still lamenting over her idol.

“Stop feeling sorry for him. If you like him, go for it,” Chi Zhiyu encouraged.

“What nonsense.” Wu Xuan laughed. “What do you mean, ‘go for it’?”

“Isn’t your idol human too?”

“Are you a pervert? How can you just say ‘go for it’ like that?”

Chi Zhiyu blinked. “If I could go for it, I’d go for it too.”

“Hold on.” Wu Xuan caught the key point and raised an eyebrow. “What are you saying… who are you going for...?”

Chi Zhiyu paused, something flashing through her mind.

Realizing this, she stopped for two seconds, turned to look at Wu Xuan, and narrowed her eyes. “You’ve been found out.”

Wu Xuan: “...”

Wu Xuan: ?

“Your mind is full of evil thoughts.”

“...”

The conversation died.

Fortunately, they had just arrived at the classroom door.

After saying goodbye to Wu Xuan, Chi Zhiyu entered through the back door of Class 3 and noticed that Xie Ye’s seat was still empty.

They hadn’t returned yet?

She blinked, pulled out her chair, sat down, and started tidying up the test papers on her desk.

Silently sighing.

Although they only had five classes in the morning, the homework felt like it was for ten classes—all test papers.

However, the school did show some consideration for the students’ struggles. The three afternoon classes for senior three were mostly review and Q&A sessions, no new lessons.

Everyone could work on their own assignments, reducing time pressure.

But Chi Zhiyu didn’t have much time. She had dance practice in the afternoon, and her already limited schedule had been squeezed further.

So general homework had to be pushed to the evening or done during the ten-minute breaks between classes.

Class started at two in the afternoon, and it was still early.

A bunch of people had returned to the classroom after eating. Some were openly playing on their phones, a few gathered together, probably playing some shooting game, with gunfire sounds rising and falling.

Chi Zhiyu rested her cheek on her hand, her eyes lowered, staring at the chemistry questions on the test paper. Her fingers twirled her pen rapidly, perfectly in sync with the gunfire sounds coming from the front.

She skimmed through the questions, couldn’t help but yawn, and casually wrote “C” in the brackets of the question.

The gunfire continued.

When Chi Zhiyu looked up, she saw Lin Jie rushing back holding his phone, hurriedly sitting sideways in his seat.

Apparently, the battle was intense.

Chi Zhiyu, sitting behind him, watched his fingers move rapidly across the screen, then looked at his game interface and raised an eyebrow.

She wouldn’t have guessed.

Her timid desk mate was actually a gaming addict.

“You can’t judge a book by its cover”—indeed, a wise saying.

While Chi Zhiyu was thinking, someone from the neighboring table suddenly shouted, “Damn, I got sniped! Lin Jie, come help me quick.”

Hearing this, Chi Zhiyu glanced toward Lin Jie’s phone screen.

The game displayed a first-person perspective. He was holding a gun, crouching in some jungle, surrounded by trees and grass.

Upon hearing the call for help, Lin Jie hummed in acknowledgment. His left hand moved his character forward, and on the screen appeared a flamboyantly dressed player half-kneeling behind a rock.

Lin Jie jumped around to dodge bullets and quickly reached the rock. Just as he was about to rescue the other player, a female voice suddenly came from the side.

“There’s someone at forty-five degrees northwest.”

Lin Jie instinctively checked the compass at the top of the screen, adjusted his direction, spotted the enemy hiding behind a tree, and immediately fired a headshot.

Before he could react, the game displayed a victory message.

The boys from the neighboring group cheered with a few “Wow, Lin Jie’s awesome, headshot!”

Lin Jie snapped out of it and turned around, only to meet Chi Zhiyu’s beautiful face. He froze.

What’s going on?

When did Chi Zhiyu come back?

Seeing his obvious stunned expression, Chi Zhiyu smiled slightly. “I didn’t expect you to be so good at games, Lin Jie.”

“No, no,” Lin Jie shook his head. “Not at all.”

“I understand, I understand,” Chi Zhiyu nodded. “You’re being modest. Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone.”

Lin Jie’s face inexplicably reddened. “No, you misunderstood. I was just randomly playing. It was only when you spoke earlier that I noticed.”

“It was your skill, I just happened to say something,” Chi Zhiyu humbly replied.

“No, no, I’m terrible.”

“No, no, I think you’re quite strong.”

As the two flattered each other, the boys from the other group called out to start another round.

Lin Jie hadn’t exited yet, but the game had already automatically entered the starting interface. A bunch of characters were bouncing around, waiting to board the plane.

Seeing this, Lin Jie hesitated for a moment, then turned to ask Chi Zhiyu, “Do you want to play?”

Earlier, she had mentioned directions and pointed things out, so he assumed she had played this game before.

“Sure,” Chi Zhiyu put down her pen and took his phone. But after thinking for a moment, she added, “I’m really bad. If we lose and it affects your score, it’s okay, right?”

“It’s fine, just play.”

“Alright.”

The rules of this game were actually quite simple—it was a battle royale survival game, similar to special forces training. Ninety-nine players boarded a plane, chose different landing spots, hid themselves, and eliminated enemies from other teams. The last one standing wins.

Chi Zhiyu naturally started the game, choosing to follow her teammates as they parachuted down.

After a while, she realized these boys were incredibly bold—they had chosen P City, the most intense battlefield.

She landed and within seconds, the sound of gunfire erupted.

Chi Zhiyu quickly ran into a house, ignoring whatever was on the ground, picked things up hastily, and ran upstairs.

Whether by divine favor or luck, she spotted an AKM rifle on the ground. She quickly swapped it for the sickle in her hand and ran into the bathroom.

She crouched down.

“...”

Lin Jie stared dumbfounded at the lightning-fast series of actions.

Chi Zhiyu ignored his gaze, her eyes glued to the screen, completely still. Outside the house, the sound of gunfire continued nonstop, like firecrackers.

After a brief silence, she suddenly heard distinct footsteps approaching. On the minimap in the upper right corner, red footprints appeared, circling around.

Chi Zhiyu immediately furrowed her brow. As the footsteps grew closer, her tension mounted.

In an instant.

A figure appeared at the stairway. Chi Zhiyu quietly raised her gun, aimed at the figure, but didn’t fire.

Lin Jie, who had been watching intently, opened his mouth to call out to her, but his peripheral vision caught a tall figure approaching from behind her.

He froze, forgetting to speak.

Xie Ye glanced at Chi Zhiyu, who was sitting with her back to him, head down, seemingly absorbed in something. He slowly approached her from behind, noticing the game on her phone, his eyelashes flickering.

He lifted his gaze and met Lin Jie’s eyes.

When their gazes locked, Lin Jie stiffened.

Chi Zhiyu was fully focused on the game, oblivious to anything outside her phone.

Meanwhile, the enemy in the game had searched the area and found no one else, seemingly heading toward the bathroom.

Chi Zhiyu pursed her lips, preparing to press the shoot button.

Suddenly.

A pair of slender hands reached out. Long, pale fingers pressed against her thumb, controlling her movement slightly to the left.

Chi Zhiyu was startled, then heard his cold, concise command in her ear: “Shoot.”

Her finger pressed down as he spoke.

Bang! A shot rang out, delayed by a beat.

It missed.

Xie Ye clicked his tongue, clearly dissatisfied.

Hearing the sound, Chi Zhiyu turned her head.

She met his profile.

Perhaps because it was hot, Xie Ye hadn’t zipped up his jacket. It was open, revealing his white school uniform shirt underneath. The jacket hung loosely on both sides, adding an air of arrogance.

To guide her earlier, he had leaned close from behind, hovering above her shoulder. His incredibly handsome face was close to hers.

His breath was near.

Xie Ye lowered his gaze to the phone in her hand. His left palm encircled it, his fingertips moving with hers as he took over the game controls.

The warmth transferred to her skin.

Chi Zhiyu withdrew her hand, unconsciously glancing at his always captivating, pale, and slim wrist.

She was still admiring it.

Then, in the game, there were several “bang, bang, bang” sounds. After a moment, clean, precise shots followed one after another.

Not long after, Xie Ye emotionlessly tossed the phone onto the table with a “thud.”

Very commanding.

Seeing this, Chi Zhiyu and Lin Jie both looked at the screen.

The screen was completely black.

Dead.

“...”

The atmosphere fell silent for two seconds.

Xie Ye narrowed his eyes and lifted his gaze to Chi Zhiyu.

Their eyes met.

In an instant, Chi Zhiyu understood what he wanted to convey.

—A mistake.