Chapter 19: Monthly Exam Results

The next morning, the sunlight crept through the gauzy curtains, climbing onto the alarm clock at the head of the bed. At exactly eight o’clock, Lin Yumo opened her eyes on time.

Barefoot, she stepped onto the plush carpet, her fingertips brushing over the neatly hung uniforms in her wardrobe before finally taking down a crisp white short-sleeved shirt.

The dark blue ribbon twirled between her fingers into a delicate bow, its crisp snap against the pleated skirt like a rhythm unique to youth.

In the mirror, the girl tied her long hair into a high ponytail, a few wisps falling along her cheeks. The small jasmine tattoo on her wrist appeared and disappeared with her movements, adding a hint of youthful charm to her school-style outfit.

Pushing open the heavy glass door of the library, she was met with a blend of ink and polished wood.

Her gaze swept over the neatly arranged bookshelves and froze on a spot by the window—where a familiar back was bent over a desk, writing quickly. The black ink pen glided smoothly over the draft paper.

Even without seeing his face, she knew it was Chi Ling—because more than his face, Lin Yumo was familiar with his back.

The white shirt he wore billowed slightly in the air conditioning, and the hair at the back of his neck trembled faintly with the rhythm of his writing. Morning light edged his profile in gold.

So, even a top student wasn’t born with extraordinary talent—he, too, worked silently.

A “top student” was simply someone who knew better than others how to race against time.

Lin Yumo thought this quietly, but her footsteps didn’t stop.

She didn’t walk toward Chi Ling, nor choose a seat close to him.

Instead, she went straight to a place with fewer people and farther from the air conditioning, pulling out the chair gently to sit down.

Her purpose for coming to the library was to study in peace—she didn’t want to be distracted by anything else.

The wooden chair gave a soft creak as she took out her physics textbook from her canvas bag, her fingers brushing the raised texture of the cover, as if reliving the battle with the exam’s difficult problems.

The central air conditioning hummed above, and sunlight through the glass cast neat patches of light across the desk.

The hour hand crept past ten when the steady scratching of his pen suddenly stopped.

Chi Ling stretched his sore arm, his long, defined fingers wrapping around a thermos. The metallic click of the lid unscrewing rang out clearly.

As he tilted his head to drink, his peripheral vision caught a scene in the distance—

A girl in a blue-and-white school-style outfit, head bent over her work, the slanted sunlight spilling over her profile. Her lashes cast a fan-shaped shadow beneath her eyes, and her focused expression was like a serene oil painting.

Chi Ling’s Adam’s apple moved slightly, and the water at his lips suddenly felt a little warm.

He lowered his eyes, finishing the rest of the warm water in one go. Droplets slid down the inside of the cup and spread into a small water mark on the wooden surface.

When he picked up his pen again, the equations on the draft paper seemed to grow clearer, and he drew his focus back to the task.

On the fourth day of the holiday, Lin Yumo set down her fountain pen, massaging her aching temples.

When she instinctively glanced toward that familiar spot, she saw that the pale wooden desk held only a thick stack of practice books, the spines glinting coldly in the sunlight.

Suddenly, a girl with a bow in her hair tiptoed over.

Her ears were flushed red as she trembled, sticking a purple sticky note to the open page of a book before fleeing like a startled rabbit.

The curled edge of the sticky note quivered in the breeze from the air conditioning, like the trembling lashes of the girl just now.

Lin Yumo immediately lowered her head, the tip of her pen leaving a dot of ink on the draft paper.

She forced her gaze back to the force diagram she was working on—but when her eyes fell on “Fn = mg,” her peripheral vision betrayed her, tracing the outline of that sticky note—a diamond shape with a purple background patterned with tiny cherry blossoms.

She counted the beats of the second hand until, at the seventh tick, the figure in the white shirt finally appeared at the end of the bookshelf.

When Chi Ling sat down, he first placed his thermos quietly on the desk. The metal met the wood with a near-silent click. Then he reached for the book in front of him.

He picked up the love-heart-decorated sticky note, his brows knitting almost imperceptibly.

Lin Yumo saw his fingertips pause briefly as they brushed the edge of the note. His usually cool gaze remained unreadable as he skimmed its contents.

The next moment, the purple slip was pinched between two fingers, tracing a clean arc before landing perfectly in the trash bin three meters away.

Lin Yumo pulled her eyes back, the pen tip unconsciously tracing the lines of the force diagram on the paper.

Across the long table, the figure in the white shirt was already once again immersed in the sea of books, as if the earlier brief exchange had never happened.

Lin Yumo took a deep breath, reining in her drifting thoughts and pulling them back to the complex force diagram in front of her.

By the time dusk spread across the floor-to-ceiling windows, she was pushing open the front door. The sensor light in the entryway flicked on instantly.

From the living room drifted a mingled scent of roses and lilies. Her mother was kneeling on the wool rug, fingers sliding a red rose into a ceramic vase. The setting sun gilded her hair like gold leaf, while dewdrops clinging to the thorns sparkled in tandem.

“Little Jasmine’s home,” her mother said, her voice like cotton candy soaked in honey. When she turned, the ends of her hair lifted a few petals, letting them fall onto her skirt.

Lin Yumo crouched down, fingertips brushing over the vivid, almost dripping red blooms. “Why such a passionate color palette today?”

“Because my Little Jasmine did wonderfully today.” Her mother angled the last stem of lisianthus into the vase, then finally flipped her phone screen toward her. In the moment the screen lit up, the numbers for each subject leapt into view like sparks catching fire—

Lin Yumo carefully took the phone in both hands. Her eyes settled on the page:

Dear Parent of Lin Yumo,
This is the score report and rankings for Lin Yumo, Class 7, Year 1, A City No. 1 High School:

Chinese: 139
Math: 149
English: 150
Physics: 65
Chemistry: 88
Biology: 100
Politics: 95
History: 95
Geography: 100

Total Score: 981/1050
Class Rank: 1st
Grade Rank: 3rd

Her eyes lit up instantly. When she saw the math score, she couldn’t help murmuring, “So the teacher was right—if the method is correct, they only deduct one point for not finishing the final answer.”

Still… physics had clearly dragged her down a bit.

She had thought she’d done well, but never expected results this good.

Her eyes curved like crescent moons as joy swelled in her chest.

“I’ve transferred ten thousand yuan to you as a reward.” Her mother’s fingertips brushed her brow bone, as gently as wiping dew from a petal.

“Your dad’s on a business trip in Germany. He just called and said he wants to get you a custom Steinway music folder.”

Before the words had even faded, Lin Yumo buried herself in her mother’s arms, nose brushing the faint fragrance on her skirt.

Her mother’s palm caressed the smooth skin of her face, the pad of her thumb tracing the warmth and delicacy of her daughter’s cheek.

Hearing her daughter’s soft, grateful words, her own heart felt steeped in honey, so sweet it trembled: “The money your dad and I earn is for you to spend. We just want you to be happy.”

Her voice was tender, filled with nothing but doting affection.

Nestled at her mother’s side, Lin Yumo helped her trim stems and adjust bouquets with meticulous care—every gesture steeped in love and gratitude.

When the flowers were arranged, she carefully selected a small bundle of fresh, pure white jasmine to take back to her own room.

Placing them in the vase by her bed, the delicate petals quivered softly, as if sharing in her delight.

Late at night, she lay in bed, moonlight spilling through the sheer curtains to coat her face in a gentle glow.

Staring at the ceiling, the corners of her lips curled upward into a satisfied smile.