Chapter 6 – Punching and Kicking Square Dance

When Lin Chuge arrived at her grandparents’ home, on the other side, Song Bonian had also been invited to the Lin household.

He sat alone on the sofa in the Lin family’s first-floor living room, facing Lin Chuge’s parents.

Cold drinks and fruit were set on the coffee table. Chi Haiyin told Song Bonian to make himself at home.

Lin Yuqing began asking about his daily life and studies, and Song Bonian answered politely one by one.

Afterward, Lin Yuqing finally got to the main point: “Bonian, has Chuchu run into anything at school recently? If she’s being bullied or having any kind of trouble, and you know about it, don’t keep it from Uncle and Auntie.”

Not entirely unexpected.

Being invited to their home specifically to talk, and with Chuchu deliberately left out—what else could this be about?

But Song Bonian wasn’t sure how much they knew.

If what he thought and what they thought weren’t the same matter, it could cause trouble.

After a pause, he put on a curious look: “Why do you ask that, Uncle?”

Lin Yuqing frowned: “You don’t know either?”

Song Bonian countered: “What’s wrong?”

Lin Yuqing sighed faintly, his tone heavy: “Chuchu… the other day she actually said she wanted to study hard.”

A cautious question mark appeared in Song Bonian’s mind.

Wasn’t it about wanting to start a romance?

Lin Yuqing’s words successfully left him speechless.

Chi Haiyin added from the side: “Yes, out of nowhere she suddenly said she wanted to study, and even memorized books all night.”

“Bonian, you know Chuchu’s nature. Since when has she ever cared about studying?”

“To suddenly say she wants to, it worries us.”

Song Bonian did know that Lin Chuge wasn’t the type who enjoyed studying.

But he also knew very well how much the two before him doted on her, even spoiled her.

Still, some things he didn’t know—like this bit about staying up all night to study. To him it sounded like a whim, but with her, it was unusual enough.

“Are Uncle and Auntie worried she’s being bullied at school?” he guessed carefully. “Or something else?”

Lin Yuqing said: “We’re mainly afraid she’s being wronged somehow.”

“At first, we thought maybe it was because her allowance wasn’t enough,” Chi Haiyin frowned. “But…”

Even after transferring more allowance to her, she still kept thinking about studying.

Clearly, the root wasn’t there.

By now, Song Bonian had reached a basic judgment—

The two elders didn’t know about Chuchu and Pei Zhou.

Which meant he must not bring it up.

Even though puppy love and wanting to study hard hardly matched up.

“Chuchu is doing fine at school,” he reassured them. “She isn’t bullied, nor do teachers give her a hard time—there shouldn’t be anything to feel wronged about. As for suddenly wanting to study hard, maybe she has a goal now and wants to work toward it.”

Lin Yuqing and Chi Haiyin were both taken aback: “A goal?”

Song Bonian’s expression was perfectly calm as he nodded: “Mm.”

Lin Yuqing asked: “What do you mean?”

Song Bonian thought for a moment: “For example, maybe Chuchu has her eye on a university she wants to apply to. In that case, wanting to study is normal.”

“That popular male star lately—didn’t he graduate from B University? I think I heard Chuchu mention him once.”

Lin Yuqing and Chi Haiyin exchanged a look, then nodded: “That could be it.”

Their daughter had studied dance, piano, guitar, drums—each time, there had always been some similar reason.

The two suddenly felt more at ease.

They realized their earlier panic had simply been concern clouding judgment.

Seeing their faces relax, Song Bonian smiled: “So Uncle and Auntie can rest assured. Chuchu is doing well at school. If she wants to study, that’s a good thing and should be encouraged. I’ll help her too.”

“Thank you, Bonian,” Chi Haiyin said gently. “Of course we’ll support her. I’ve already contacted the best tutor for her.”

Keeping his composure, Song Bonian smiled: “No need to thank me. After all, Chuchu and I are friends.”

---

Pei Zhou came out of the study just as Auntie finished preparing dinner.

Before he could refuse, Grandma Lin had pulled him into the dining room and pressed him into a chair.

Seeing how happy his grandparents were, he didn’t want to spoil their mood, so he sat down obediently.

Thus, he was forced to eat dinner together with Lin Chuge and the four elders.

After dinner, as the lights of the city came on, the elders pulled their granddaughter and grandson out for a walk.

The elders strolled slowly, chatting idly. Thoughtfully, Lin Chuge and Pei Zhou walked even slower, falling behind.

The two were quiet.

Still thinking about what happened in the study, and noticing Pei Zhou seemed unhappy afterward, Lin Chuge wanted to redeem herself. She sneaked a glance at him. A few seconds later, another glance.

It earned her an annoyed question: “What are you staring at?”

She smiled and skipped the earlier topic, asking instead: “Want me to buy you a milk tea later?”

He gave her a sideways look. “Are we that close?”

She honestly shook her head.

He chuckled, uninterested in her “sudden friendliness, surely with an ulterior motive.”

Lin Chuge almost said more, but closed her mouth.

Yet soon, Pei Zhou realized he had completely misunderstood what she meant about milk tea.

When they reached the nearby plaza, they found many middle-aged and elderly folks dancing in formation, and their grandparents happily joined in without hesitation.

Pei Zhou didn’t know when his grandparents had developed such a hobby, but he didn’t mind.

Until his grandma insisted on pulling him into the dance.

That was another matter.

Of course, he didn’t want to.

He was someone feared by classmates—didn’t he have a reputation to maintain?

But such reasons meant nothing in front of elders.

With his grandma gripping his arm tightly, he didn’t dare shake her off too hard for fear of hurting her.

So he was dragged into the square dance, forced to wave his arms and kick his legs awkwardly.

It was as embarrassing as it could get.

Meanwhile, Lin Chuge happily ran off to buy milk tea.

When she returned, she sat innocently on a bench, sipping her drink and playing with her phone.

Finally breaking free from his torment, Pei Zhou came over with a dark face, sat heavily on the other end of the bench, and glanced at her.

She stifled laughter and offered him the extra cup she bought: “Want some?”

His eyes narrowed at the trace of gloating in her expression.

“You knew, didn’t you?”

She blinked innocently, sipping her own drink: “I told you earlier I’d buy you milk tea.”

Pei Zhou: “…”

“You asked me, ‘Are we close?’” she reminded him.

Pei Zhou: “…”

“So I could only buy for myself,” she said.

Pei Zhou: “…”

She shook the drink in her hand. “Well, want it?”

Sulking, he snatched the iced lemon soda, stabbed the straw in, and downed half the cup in one go.

The cold drink eased some of his irritation.

The elders were still dancing happily. Pei Zhou sat for a while, but quickly grew bored.

Just then, he noticed Lin Chuge had set down her drink and was completely absorbed in her phone, chatting away.

From his angle he couldn’t see the messages, but he watched her brows furrow, then her lips curve into a smile, her emotions shifting constantly. Her fingers never stopped tapping.

Meanwhile, he, sitting right there, was completely ignored.

Was this reasonable?

Remembering her shy, blushing face earlier, he decided it wasn’t.

But—what did it have to do with him?

He leaned back lazily, crossed his legs, and pulled out his own phone.

Lin Chuge was chatting with Song Bonian.

After leaving the Lin home and returning to his room, Song Bonian had messaged her, reporting what her parents were worried about and explaining the excuse he’d given them about her sudden desire to study. They needed to be on the same page to avoid contradictions later.

She was deeply impressed by his quick thinking.

Especially since that excuse was one her parents would definitely believe—it made her plan to study sound even more justified.

A huge favor!

She thought she would never call Song Bonian a bootlicker again.

This was clearly loyal, devoted, steadfast!

What a truly good friend!

Ending the conversation in high spirits, she looked up—only to catch a pair of eyes darting away quickly.

Turning, she saw Pei Zhou had moved closer at some point, now shifting back to the far side of the bench.

She froze.

He twisted his mouth, covered it with a scowl, and snapped: “Why are you always staring at me?”

Lin Chuge: “…”

Wasn’t it just now him who leaned over to look?

Never mind.

She let it go, tucked away her phone, picked up her milk tea, and took a sip, lips still curved.

Her silence only made Pei Zhou more irritated.

What kind of attitude was that?

He had clearly seen it—

She’d been chatting with his class’s monitor, Song Bonian. And enjoying it, too.

“You and our class monitor seem pretty close,” Pei Zhou remarked casually, twirling his phone, pretending indifference.

But in Lin Chuge’s ears, it sounded sour.

Amused, she turned her face toward him, gazing at him seriously.

Her eyes were so bright and clear, it felt like she could see straight through him.

Uncomfortable, his face darkened further, when suddenly she said: “I am close to Song Bonian—we’ve known each other for over ten years.”

“But we’re just friends. Nothing beyond that.”

Her words were clear and direct, leaving no room for misunderstanding.

Which, ironically, only made it sound like she was deliberately preventing one.

Tch.

What misunderstanding could there be?

Straightening, he curved his lips. “I just asked casually. Why are you so worked up?”

Lin Chuge: “…?”

Since the topic had come up, she seized the chance.

“How about you and Song Bonian? Are you two close?”

Pei Zhou was speechless.

“What makes you think we are?”

“You’re in the same class but don’t really talk? Why?”

He drawled lazily: “I don’t like good students.”

Lin Chuge: “?”

“I’m a good student,” she pointed out.

Pei Zhou: “…”

His expression soured, and she pressed: “Am I not?”

Her face was so serious that it was clear—she truly believed she was a good student.

He didn’t want to crush her, but couldn’t help chuckling: “What kind of good student only scores 37 in math?”

Lin Chuge: “………………………”

“How do you know I scored 37?” she blurted, then recalled her dream and quickly fell silent. A moment later she coughed lightly. “Grades aren’t the only way to judge good or bad students.”

“True.”

Pei Zhou stood, bathed in the warm glow of a nearby streetlamp.

He looked down at her slightly, and said:

“You’re right—you are a good student. But I’m not. So it’s better for you to stay away from me.”