Chapter 6  

He Cheng mentioned he had an idle electric bicycle, so He Yang assumed it was similar to Uncle Li’s second-hand one—old, unused for years, and practically worthless. With that in mind, she figured swapping it wouldn’t be a big deal. The old electric bicycle in her hands was indeed a hazard.  

What He Yang didn’t expect was that the replacement would be so new.  

It looked as if it had just been bought from the store, and it worked perfectly.  

She was overjoyed and increasingly convinced that He Cheng was a kind-hearted, good-natured person. But her happiness didn’t last long—soon, it was doused by a bucket of ice-cold water.  

The reason? The senior year had organized a mock exam.  

He Yang had been back for a full week now. During that time, she not only had to attend classes and complete homework but also juggle a part-time job. It was exhausting. If this had been her high school self, she wouldn’t have minded at all—she might have even found it fulfilling. But the current He Yang was someone who had spent four years of university slacking off, followed by two more years of slacking in the workforce.  

She didn’t consider herself a hardworking person. The only thing she could count as luck was knowing when to push herself—like in high school, when she pulled her grades up to meet the college entrance requirements, or during her senior year of university, when she crammed day and night for civil service exams. She had made the most of those critical turning points in her life.  

But outside of those crucial moments, she was the type to slack off whenever possible.  

Even though the current situation was also critical.  

But asking her to return to the classroom and give 200% effort? She simply couldn’t do it.  

Or rather, she *wanted* to give her best for another shot at the college entrance exam, but even at her peak now, she couldn’t match even a third of her high school self’s performance.  

After all… she was older now.  

So the results of the mock exam were predictable—she had regressed.  

She had *really, really, really* tried her best to study.  

But her brain just couldn’t keep up. How could her 24-year-old mind possibly match the agility of her 18-year-old self?  

He Yang was utterly dejected.  

Li Kexin stared at He Yang’s nearly blank test paper as if she’d seen a ghost. “You… what happened? The political essay question—you only wrote two lines! That’s twelve points right there! And this other essay—you just analyzed the material without connecting it to the key concepts. This was your strongest subject! You had everything memorized! How could you…”  

He Yang clamped a hand over Li Kexin’s chattering mouth. “Stop. I’m already devastated.”  

Li Kexin mumbled incoherently, her eyes wide with shock even as her mouth was covered. She finally wriggled free and blurted, “…Are you doing this on purpose?!”  

He Yang shot her a glance. “Yeah, yeah. These essay questions are so easy—just match the key points and you’ll score. But you might not believe me when I say this—overnight, all my high school knowledge vanished. All that’s left is this much.” She pinched her thumb and forefinger together. “Which is my current score.”  

“What kind of nonsense are you spouting?”  

“…Hah.”  

A sudden downpour pounded against the windows.  

Li Kexin tugged at her bangs anxiously. “Are you serious? Did you get a fever and fry your brain or something?”  

He Yang spread her hands helplessly.  

Li Kexin’s own grades had slipped a little, but nothing as drastic as He Yang’s—whose performance was bad enough to guarantee a one-on-one scolding from their homeroom teacher.

He Yang was actually quite happy to see Li Kexin so worried—this sisterhood was worth it! She comforted her in return: “It’s fine, just treat it like my brain malfunctioned. There are still a few months left before the college entrance exams. If I push myself, I can catch up.”

The basic problem-solving skills were there.  

What was missing was the accumulated memorization over time.  

Humanities subjects were like this—they required rote learning of vast amounts of knowledge. Right now, He Yang only had the framework; she needed to fill it in with content. It wasn’t a small task, but fortunately, it was manageable.  

Cheerfully lost in thought, He Yang walked shoulder-to-shoulder with Li Kexin toward the school gate.  

She carried an umbrella in one hand and pushed her electric bicycle with the other.  

When the results came out, she had already asked Uncle Li for leave until the exams were over, throwing herself entirely into studying. The electric bicycle had become her means of commuting to school—before, she had always taken the bus.  

As the two reached the gate, they saw a crowd gathered ahead. Li Kexin, sharp-eyed, immediately nudged He Yang’s arm: “It’s He Cheng!”  

He Yang stood on tiptoe to look.  

He Cheng stood in a corner, holding a black umbrella. He wore his school uniform—the winter version, a blue jacket with white stripes and black trousers.  

Dense raindrops slid off the umbrella, forming an invisible barrier around him. No matter how many people hurried past, he remained with his eyes lowered, exuding an air of cool detachment. The sky was overcast, thick with dark clouds, yet the spot where he stood seemed bathed in light, his porcelain-white skin glowing like a dazzling pearl.  

He was a strikingly handsome person.  

Even standing quietly, he drew a crowd of onlookers.  

“He took leave before—I thought he wouldn’t come for this exam. Who knew he’d not only show up but also score so well? First place again. It’s infuriating how some people just have it all.”  

Li Kexin sighed, then perked up again. “See the girl in front of him? That’s Class Two’s class flower—Zhao Miao, the one I told you about before. She and He Cheng are both from City A. Word is she came to Yangkui High because of him. They’re childhood sweethearts, both good-looking, both top students—a perfect match made in heaven. The rest of us can only look up in envy.”  

He Yang’s attention had been fixed on He Cheng at first, but she squinted and indeed saw a bright-eyed girl standing before him.  

Zhao Miao wasn’t wearing her uniform. She had on a white cotton maxi dress with a cardigan draped over her shoulders, her glossy black hair cascading down, framing her delicate, flawless face.  

Black ankle boots showed off her slender, straight calves. Holding a floral umbrella, she swept a glance over the subtle stares around her, then spoke in an intimate tone: “My family sent someone to pick me up. Come with me.”  

He Cheng didn’t respond, his gaze fixed on the ground.  

Zhao Miao wasn’t discouraged by his silence.  

Her family had business ties with the He family, and she had often seen He Cheng as a child. He Cheng was beautiful and came from a good family, but he ignored people, always sitting in corners. Young Zhao Miao had been upset about it for a while, but as she grew older, she let it go—if he ignored her, he ignored everyone else too.  

Besides, others didn’t even have the privilege of speaking to him. If she talked enough, she could occasionally get a few words out of him.  

The way He Cheng treated her was still different from how he treated others.  

A look of concern crossed Zhao Miao’s face. “You just recovered from your illness—you can’t get caught in the rain. I’ll wait here with you a little longer. If your driver doesn’t come, you can ride back with me. We’re going the same way anyway.”  

He Cheng replied, “Thank you, but no.”

He Cheng felt a chill as raindrops fell unpleasantly on him. He shifted slightly to the side and glanced toward the school gate, his gaze suddenly freezing.

The calm, unrippled depths of his eyes cracked open, and beams of light burst forth as if competing to shine.

He sidestepped the surrounding crowd and walked up to He Yang, noticing the electric bicycle she was pushing. It felt like a secret, carrying memories only the two of them would understand.

Like sunshine after rain, a gentle smile appeared on his face.

“Why did you take so long to come out?”

Li Kexin was stunned by He Cheng’s familiar tone.

Did He Cheng actually know He Yang?

Why did his voice sound so… so suggestive, as if the two of them had arranged to meet at the school gate after class?

Countless gazes, almost tangible, landed on He Yang.

He Yang was equally bewildered.

At most, she and He Cheng had only met once before. Although he had said some thought-provoking things afterward, He Yang had dismissed them as casual remarks and hadn’t taken them seriously.

Why would He Cheng want to be friends with her?

It was completely impossible.

Even though modern society preached equality, real life was different—everyone had their own exclusive social circles.

He Cheng was a top student, wealthy.

What could he possibly gain from befriending her?

No matter how much she thought about it, He Yang couldn’t bring herself to believe what He Cheng had said that day.

About how no one wanted to be friends with him—wasn’t it more that he didn’t want to be friends with others?

Li Kexin pinched her. “He Yang!”

He Yang yelped, glaring. “That hurt!”

Li Kexin whispered, “He Cheng is talking to you, why are you spacing out? Did you really fry your brain? You’ve been acting weird lately. And how do you even know He Cheng?”

“…It’s a long story.”

He Cheng stood straight, his gaze lowered slightly.

His eyes lingered on He Yang’s arm, where Li Kexin’s hand rested—annoyingly in the way. It made him uncomfortable.

His clenched hand tightened further, his right hand flexing as if recalling the sensation of holding He Yang’s hand that day. But after so long, not a trace of her warmth remained. The rain left his palm cold and damp, and his heart felt like it was soaking in icy water, aching and swollen.

He Yang snapped out of her daze and forced herself to endure the overt and covert stares around her, offering an awkward smile. “What a coincidence.”

He Cheng masked his emotions perfectly. By the time He Yang looked at him, all traces of frustration in his eyes had vanished, leaving only gentleness.

“How are you getting home?” he asked.

He Yang pointed at the electric bicycle. “I’m riding this.”

“But it’s raining. How will you hold an umbrella?”

“There’s a raincoat in the basket.”

“Oh.”

Li Kexin’s family came to pick her up, and she reluctantly said goodbye to He Yang, glancing back repeatedly.

He Yang closed her umbrella and pulled out the raincoat from the basket. Before she could put it on, He Cheng stepped forward, his large umbrella shielding them both from the rain. She paused, quickly slipping into the raincoat.

He Cheng didn’t move, keeping the umbrella over them both.

He Yang remembered the tone of his earlier question—it had sounded somewhat dejected. Why? She glanced around but didn’t see any car waiting for him, so she asked redundantly, “Your family hasn’t arrived yet?”

He Cheng lowered his eyes, looking crestfallen. “No. I called, but maybe the signal was bad—it didn’t go through.”

The rain grew heavier.

He Cheng wasn’t in good health, his face pale, having coughed several times earlier. He stood unsteadily in the wind and rain, looking utterly miserable.

He Yang got on the electric bicycle and twisted around to pat the rear seat. “Hop on, I’ll take you back.”

He Cheng’s grip on the umbrella handle suddenly loosened.

Without refusing, he took a long stride and sat on the back seat. This time, he couldn’t press close to He Yang—there was a handlebar separating them. Half a head shorter than her, his gaze landed on her slender back.

He Yang was completely covered by her raincoat from head to toe, appearing only as a red silhouette from behind.

He Cheng stared intently.

“I’ll go slow. Hold the umbrella tight so you don’t get wet.”

He Yang’s voice fell like the raindrops around them, drip-drip-dripping onto his heart, scalding like hot oil that suddenly burst into flames.

He slowly pressed his cheek against her back, his arms moving as if to embrace her completely.