Jiang Yi got out of bed and locked the door. Lu Li sat on the bed still shaken.

Lu Li sighed in relief, “Thank goodness we didn’t get caught.”

Jiang Yi felt conflicted, felling like Lu Li made it sound like they were doing something wrong.

“Are you planning to climb over the wall again tomorrow morning?” Jiang Yi asked, turning to Lu Li.

Lu Li nodded.

Jiang Yi rubbed his nose and whispered, “My dad is used to waking up early to grind soy milk.”

Lu Li felt a sense of foreboding, “What time does Uncle Jiang usually get up?”

“Around five,” Jiang Yi answered honestly.

Lu Li: “…”

Jiang Yi, holding an alarm clock, offering help sweetly, “Do you want to set it yourself or should I do it for you?”

Lu Li: “…”

Resigned, Lu Li took the alarm clock and set two alarms—one for 4:50 and the other for 4:55.

The next morning, as the sky began to lighten, the alarm rang. Without opening his eyes, Lu Li quickly silenced it and, still half-asleep, canceled the next one set for 4:55. Jiang Yi, beside him, seemed to stir at the sound. Lu Li quietly lifted the covers and slowly pushed open the window, trying not to make a sound.

From the living room, he could hear the soy milk machine running, and feeling reassured, he took a deep breath and swiftly jumped over the balcony. But as soon as he looked up, he saw Jiang’s father watering plants with a watering can, staring at him in shock.

Dressed in his pajamas, Lu Li froze: “…”

Jiang’s father: “…”

The 4:50 a.m. breeze still carried a chill, and the water from the watering can continued to pour out. In the suffocating silence, Lu Li braced himself and awkwardly said, “Good morning, Uncle Jiang.”

Jiang’s father’s hand holding the watering can trembled as he awkwardly forced a smile, “Haha, good morning, young master.”

An hour later.

Jiang Yi woke up, finding the space next to him empty. Relieved, he changed into his school uniform and opened the door to wash up. As he passed through the living room, he froze.

He took a few steps back and peeked into the living room. There, sitting at the dining table in his pajamas, was Lu Li, sitting motionless. Across from him sat jiang’s father, with his hands resting on his thighs.

“…”

Jiang Yi rubbed his eyes, thinking he hadn’t fully woken up.

Seeing Jiang Yi, his father cleared his throat, “Go wash up, kiddo. After that, come have breakfast.”

Jiang Yi nodded dumbfoundedly.

During breakfast, when Jiang’s father went to the kitchen to check the steamer, Jiang Yi whispered, “Why didn’t you leave?”

Lu Li, feeling wronged, whispered back, “You told me Uncle Jiang wakes up at five to grind soy milk, but you didn’t mention he gets up at 4:30 to knead dough for buns.”

Jiang Yi awkwardly rubbed his nose, “I didn’t know about that.”

Jiang’s father, worried that store-bought food might not be hygienic, especially for Jiang Yi’s fragile health, insisted on preparing everything himself. Jiang Yi had assumed his father only made soy milk; he didn’t realize he made buns from scratch too.

Jiang’s father brought two plates of buns from the kitchen and saw the two children sitting quietly, looking well-behaved and not daring to make a sound. He set the plates down and gently suggested that next time Lu Li came to visit, he should use the front door. If anything happened to the young master of the Lu family because he climbed the wall to see Jiang Yi, he wouldn’t know how to explain it to the Lu family.

Heavens knew that seeing Lu Li jump down from the window early in the morning almost gave him a heart attack.

Lu Li bit into his bun, nodding meekly.

---

After the competition, Jiang Yi’s “Rocket Class” had its routine seat swap, which occurred once every three months. The seating arrangement was based on academic ranking, with the highest scorer choosing first, the second highest choosing second, and so on.

Most students opted to keep their original seats, and Jiang Yi was no different. He was the first to enter the classroom and chose his usual seat, waiting for Cai Fang.

The second to choose a seat was Cheng Chao. He stood at the door, glancing around, then leisurely sat next to Jiang Yi.

Jiang Yi was taken aback, watching as Cheng Chao smiled, appearing gentle and refined on the surface, but in a low voice, he said, “What are you looking at?”

“I don’t want to sit with those guys.”

He was tired of people asking him for help with questions all day, finding it utterly annoying.

Jiang Yi: “…”

He realized that ever since the restroom paper incident, Cheng Chao didn’t even bother pretending around him anymore. It seemed like he just did whatever was comfortable.

This was proven true in the days that followed. During self-study periods, Cheng Chao would openly read novels instead of textbooks and would casually ask Jiang Yi to keep an eye on the teacher for him, as if he had completely let his guard down.

After the competition, Jiang Yi had no extra classes for a change, so he went to the basketball court to wait for Lu Li to finish training. Recently, Lu Li had been walking on air, thrilled that every time he played, Jiang Yi would quietly sit in the stands, waiting for his practice to end.

Because of this, the entire basketball team noticed that during this period, Lu Li no longer looked stern or spoke harshly. He even played with a gentler demeanor, helping players up when he accidentally knocked them over.

Qin Lan, sitting in the stands, saw through everything. He and Zhong Mao took turns guarding Jiang Yi like sentinels, worried that the older members of the team might give him trouble.

Qin Lan didn’t mind sitting next to Jiang Yi, since he liked him. Jiang Yi was good-looking, quiet, and Qin could feel the attention of many girls around them.

But Zhong Mao wasn’t as willing. He felt that Jiang Yi, being too attractive, drew too much attention. Zhong Mao had recently gotten a haircut that he thought was cool, with some highlights, but just as he was about to show it off, his dad called two hairstylists to the house and had it all shaved off.

Because Zhong Mao had cursed in anger, his father made sure to leave no hair at all, giving him a very short buzz cut.

As a result, Zhong Mao had been sensitive about his appearance lately. After all, his head was practically bald and looked comically shiny.

At the age of thirteen or fourteen, when one was especially concerned about others’ opinions, having a head that resembled a shiny egg was particularly embarrassing.

When Jiang Yi first met Zhong Mao, his gaze lingered on his head for a long time. Afterward, Jiang Yi kept glancing at Zhong Mao’s head.

Noticing this, Zhong Mao clenched his fists and reminded himself that Jiang Yi was Lu Li’s childhood friend, the apple of Lu Li’s eye—he couldn’t curse or hit him. He shouldn’t even glare.

Still, Zhong Mao silently fumed, staring coldly at the ground.

Two minutes later, he heard Jiang Yi’s voice, full of admiration, “Your haircut looks really good.”

Zhong Mao: “???”

Jiang Yi stood beside him, gazing at his smooth, round head, which was perfectly shaped without any dents, curving smoothly. Unable to hold back, Jiang Yi repeated, “It really looks great.”

He thought to himself enviously, seeing such a perfectly shaped head in the mirror every morning would surely put him in a good mood for the rest of the day.

Zhong Mao stared at Jiang Yi, dumbfounded by his genuine compliment.