Chapter 7: That Smile Was a Little Creepy

“Handsome, so handsome,” Cheng Yuan sighed, holding onto Bei Xiaolin’s warm hand as if the world itself had turned soft and sweet.

Bei Xiaolin had been her best friend in high school. After the college entrance exams, Cheng Yuan went to a vocational school, while Xiaolin headed to Suzhou to chase her dream of becoming a star. They stayed in touch for a while, but after Cheng Yuan moved to Haicheng for work, the connection gradually faded.

The last time they spoke, Xiaolin had been bubbling with excitement, saying she was about to release her first album. Cheng Yuan still remembered her voice on the phone, full of hope and joy.

Then the news hit—Xiaolin had died.

She’d read it in an entertainment tabloid: an overdose of sleeping pills. By the time Cheng Yuan rushed to Suzhou, it was too late. Xiaolin had already been cremated. All that was left were a few scattered belongings in a rented room. Cheng Yuan never found out why her friend had taken her own life.

“Hey, Cheng Yuan, that compliment was so fake,” Bei Xiaolin teased, shooting her a playful glare. “What’s going on in that head of yours?”

“Xiaolin, did you finish your homework?” Cheng Yuan changed the subject and handed in her completed assignment.

Bei Xiaolin glanced at the fully answered worksheet and froze. “No way. Cheng Yuan, whose homework did you copy?”

“I didn’t copy anyone’s!” Cheng Yuan huffed. “I did it myself. From now on, I’m going to study seriously.”

“Seriously?” Bei Xiaolin blinked at her, clearly skeptical, but before she could press further, the teacher entered the classroom.

Still, she couldn’t stop sneaking glances at Cheng Yuan throughout class. Cheng Yuan didn’t nap once. She took notes earnestly, brows furrowed in concentration.

Did the sun start rising from the west?

Even during the ten-minute break, Cheng Yuan kept busy—either running to the restroom, reciting ancient texts, or memorizing English vocabulary. It wasn’t until after lunch that Bei Xiaolin finally cornered her. “Yuanyuan,” she said, clutching her arm dramatically, “what’s gotten into you? Are you really planning to turn over a new leaf?”

“I am,” Cheng Yuan said with unwavering determination.

She refused to let history repeat itself. She wouldn’t spend this life bowing her head, bullied into submission, and spiraling into despair. This time, she would grow stronger through every setback. No one would stop her from studying hard.

“But… aren’t you scared of Meng or Li Liang anymore?” Bei Xiaolin asked quietly, scrutinizing her as if seeing her for the first time. “You’ve completely changed in just a few days.”

Cheng Yuan gave her a sidelong glance. “Being afraid—did that ever stop them from bullying me?”

Her bangs veiled her brows, but her peach blossom eyes shimmered with a quiet intensity. Even a fleeting glance was captivating—charming, yet oddly chilling.

“But…” Bei Xiaolin wanted to protest, but no words came. Luckily, they sat in the back row, and their whispers went unnoticed.

After a long pause, Bei Xiaolin finally asked, “Has Li Liang given you any trouble recently?”

“He won’t,” Cheng Yuan said simply, her tone laced with quiet finality.

She glanced at Bei Xiaolin’s pristine test paper. “Today’s test had On Teachers on it. Did you memorize it?”

“Nope.” Bei Xiaolin slammed her Chinese textbook shut and flopped dramatically onto the desk. “Yuan Yuan, you keep working hard. I support you. Me? I’m just not cut out for studying.”

Spring drowsiness, autumn fatigue, summer lethargy—now that it was autumn, she definitely needed her noon nap. Otherwise, how would she have the energy to game all night?

Cheng Yuan didn’t argue. She just kept silently reciting On Teachers in her mind.

It had been years since she’d studied. Most of what she’d learned had faded, even though she later earned a degree through self-study. Then came the years of running a clothing business—endless inventory checks, account books, renovations. She’d even bought a house.

But her father’s accident had changed everything. She’d never been able to move in. The place felt tainted—like it had been bought with his life.

This time, she would do it right. She and her father would earn enough together and buy a home they could both be proud of.

“In ancient times, those who wished to learn always had teachers. A teacher is someone who transmits the Way, imparts knowledge, and resolves doubts…”

Cheng Yuan recited the text quietly. Memorizing ancient passages was already difficult. English would be even worse—she hadn’t used it in years. And after her first year of high school, she’d barely stepped into a classroom.

There were only eight months left until the Gaokao. For someone like Bei Xiaolin, who barely studied, getting into a school like Shanghai University would be nearly impossible.

When classes finally ended, Xiaolin woke up and clutched her stomach. “Let’s get dinner. I’m starving.”

Cheng Yuan had only made it halfway through her history review, but Xiaolin’s pitiful groaning was relentless.

My stomach’s about to stage a full-blown riot,” she whined.

Cheng Yuan sighed and shut her book. As they walked, she flipped open her English textbook and began memorizing vocabulary.

Xiaolin groaned. “Yuanyuan, give it a rest. Can we talk about games instead?”

“I played Super Mario yesterday,” she said, eyes lighting up. “So much fun! There’s this sky level—you can literally climb into the clouds! I’m definitely going to beat it this time.”

“Remember that sewer level you played last time? I thought it was too dark. The sky levels are better—the graphics are prettier. You know, the one where…”

She chattered non-stop, even through dinner, fully recharged from her nap.

Afterward, Cheng Yuan suggested, “Xiaolin, let’s take this path back to the classroom.”

As they passed the bamboo grove, Cheng Yuan stopped.

Bei Xiaolin hesitated. “What if Li liang’s waiting for us?”

To avoid him, they always stuck to the main road and never walked alone. Cheng Yuan reassured her, “Don’t worry. I saw him still eating earlier.”

But halfway there, Bei Xiaolin nearly collapsed when she spotted Li Liang standing directly in their path.

She clenched her teeth. “Yuan Yuan, didn’t you say he was still eating?!”

“I’ll count to three, and we’ll run,” Xiaolin whispered urgently. “One, two, three—”

She bolted.

After a few steps, she realized Cheng Yuan wasn’t behind her.

Cheng Yuan stood still.

Even worse, Li Liang’s two sidekicks had appeared behind them, blocking their retreat.

Panicked, Xiaolin hurried back and grabbed her arm. “I’ll hold them off. You go get help.”

But Cheng Yuan just smiled.

“Why aren’t you running?” Li Liang called out, genuinely surprised.

Usually, just the sight of him made her flinch. Her red-rimmed eyes always reminded him of a scared little rabbit. Watching her tremble gave him a twisted sense of satisfaction.

But now—

“Why should I run?” Cheng Yuan replied, her peach blossom eyes gleaming. “You and I still have unfinished business.”

Her smile deepened.

For the first time, Li Liang noticed how beautiful her smile was—her eyes curving like crescent moons.

But something about it sent a chill down his spine.

It was the smile of someone who no longer feared him.