Chapter 18 

With Jin Chuan out of town and nothing tying her down at school, Zhong Yao was already feeling sleepy by 9 p.m. after chatting with Shiwu on the phone.

It was then that He Lingli messaged her:

[YaoYao, someone destroyed our class blackboard out of jealousy. It’s all ruined, sob sob qwq]
[Everyone said not to tell you because you’d be the most upset… but I think you’re the one who needs to know. Otherwise, you’ll be totally confused tomorrow morning…]
[And I know how much you put into this. Sob sob YaoYao, what should we do QAQ]

Zhong Yao instantly snapped awake. Even though she had mentally prepared for the worst, the moment she saw the photos, her heart clenched.

Just a few hours ago, the blackboard had been perfectly intact. Now the red and yellow chalk were smeared into an indistinguishable mess. Someone had even splashed water on it, and now damp chalk dust was dripping down the board. The whole thing looked like a paint bucket had exploded on it.

In this state, it wasn’t just a matter of cleaning the board—it would take a miracle to restore the artwork.

But Zhong Yao didn’t care about that. She practically leapt out of bed, threw on whatever clothes she could find, and rushed out the door.

All she knew was—she couldn’t just give up.

Only Zhong Yao herself knew how much time, effort, and heart she had poured into that blackboard.

The concept sketches in her notebook had been revised over and over, with countless drafts scrapped. She had given up her weekends to carefully select the perfect poem—eventually settling on “Snow” from Qinyuanchun. Before writing any part of it on the final board, she always practiced on the front classroom blackboard to warm up her hand.

The actual painting had taken five days—but the preparation behind it far exceeded that.

She couldn’t stand seeing all of that effort destroyed, trampled, and wasted. Fueled by determination, she hailed a cab to school.

She didn’t even know if she could get into the campus this late, or if she’d have enough time to fix it.

But what she did know was—she couldn’t just sit and do nothing.

On her phone, Panda also messaged, telling her the truth and trying to comfort her.

With only one night left, everyone had already accepted it couldn’t be saved.

Zhong Yao bit her lip in silence. In the end, she didn’t tell any of them that she was foolishly rushing to the school.

She simply replied:

[Thank you for telling me. I’ll figure something out!]

As the night rushed past outside the car window, Zhong Yao began mentally calculating: how long it would take to clean the blackboard alone, and how long it might take to repaint it.

If she spent the entire night on it, it would be hard—but since she’d already done it once, maybe there was still a chance to pull off a miracle.

Her mind was a mess the whole ride.

The moment she got out at the school gate and saw the tightly shut doors and the pitch-dark security office, a wave of helplessness hit her.

The campus security was already off duty—there wasn’t even a chance to beg the guard to let her in. How was she supposed to make a miracle happen now?

That overwhelming sense of powerlessness crept in and began to crush the last bit of hope she had left.

Her nose stung with frustration and despair, but she forced herself not to cry—because once she started crying, she knew she would lose all control.

She didn’t want to give up. She truly didn’t.

Taking a deep breath, she slapped her cheeks and blinked the tears back, then began circling the perimeter of the school.

Taoli Middle School was one of the top three ranked schools in Beijing, outstanding in every way. Because it enrolled many students from elite families like Qi Yu and Shen Qingqing, the campus security was also extremely strict.

The perimeter walls were lined with shards of broken glass, and the tops of the ornamental iron fences were sharp and jagged, glinting coldly under the streetlights.

Zhong Yao stood in front of the iron fence and swallowed nervously. A dangerous idea began to form in her mind.

Compared to scaling the main wall or gate, this fence seemed just a little easier. It was high, and the top was sharp, but if she climbed carefully—like she would a tree—maybe, just maybe, she could do it.

Once the thought appeared, it was impossible to push away. Her desire to protect her work overwhelmed her fear. Incredibly, Zhong Yao found herself seriously preparing to climb the fence and sneak into school.

She gripped the upper bars tightly, wedged her foot into the gaps, and began climbing—slowly, cautiously. The higher she got, the more her body trembled.

“Hey. Even if your blackboard got ruined, you don’t need to go dying on campus, do you?”

A familiar voice rang out behind her, startling Zhong Yao so badly that her panic exploded.

Her foot slipped—and she fell backward.

Letting out a cry, she braced for the impact—but Qi Yu rushed forward and caught her just in time.

The moment he touched her, she sprang away as if burned, glaring at him with flushed cheeks.

“What are you doing scaring people like that?! I was halfway up already!”

Qi Yu shook his head. He didn’t even ask why she was climbing the fence. He simply said:

“Do you know what happens if you get caught sneaking into school?”

“Well, no one would’ve known if you hadn’t said anything!” Zhong Yao muttered, biting her lip and looking away.

“Please.” Qi Yu pointed to a nearby tree. “You think the school’s security cameras are just for decoration?”

Zhong Yao followed his finger—and spotted a red light blinking from a camera nestled in the tree’s branches.

So, her little wall-scaling stunt had probably already been recorded.

Still, she insisted stubbornly,

“You wouldn’t understand how much this means to me.”

“Really?” Qi Yu raised an eyebrow. “It means enough for you to risk detention, write a formal reflection, apologize in front of the whole school at Monday’s flag-raising ceremony, and have your guardian—Jin Chuan—get called in over a blackboard?”

Zhong Yao froze and turned sharply to look at him. So… he did know. He knew why she was here.

She stared at him, neither confirming nor denying it, clearly caught in indecision.

But Qi Yu didn’t wait for an answer. Instead, he suddenly grabbed her hand—and started running.

The night wind hit her face as the boy turned back and said:

“Fine. Then I’ll help you make that miracle happen.”

Zhong Yao was stunned. She didn’t know what he was planning. But somehow—maybe out of instinct or trust—she didn’t pull her hand away.

Somehow, she believed he really could get her back into school.

Qi Yu led her on a long run around the school grounds. Finally, they slipped into a narrow alley and stopped in front of a metal security door.

Only then did Zhong Yao realize—Tang Yiming and Song Shi were already waiting there.

Surprised, she quickly pulled her hand back from Qi Yu’s.

“You guys…” she looked at the two of them, and a realization dawned in her heart. Her expression softened with emotion.

“We’re here to uphold justice!” Song Shi said as she looped her arm around Zhong Yao’s, then turned to Qi Yu. “Come on, Qi Yu, open the door already! I can’t handle all this sappy stuff from girls!”

Tang Yiming rubbed his hands together, shivering.

“Yeah, hurry up, Brother Yu. I’m freezing! Plus I had to listen to Stone babble the whole time—it’s torture.”

They really had all come here in the middle of the night—for her.

Yet she didn’t even consider them real friends yet.

Zhong Yao had never dared to hope for something like this.

As Qi Yu turned to unlock the door, she said seriously:

“Thank you. Really. Thank you all.”

Her heart swelled strangely with gratitude—enough to dull even her panic.

“Alright, alright, let’s go already!” Song Shi gave her a gentle push. “If you cry, I’m leaving immediately!”

“What kind of loyalty is that?” Tang Yiming shot back. “You came from the school next door. I literally rolled out of bed and didn’t say a word. If you dare leave, I’ll report you for climbing the wall on the school forum tomorrow!”

These two could bicker anywhere, anytime. Zhong Yao didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

As their banter continued, she suddenly realized—the place they had entered was the school’s snack shop!

“Qi Yu, how do you have the key to the school store?” she asked nervously. She was worried they had done something illegal, like stealing the keys, just for her sake.

Her anxious tone made Song Shi laugh.

“Don’t worry, Yaoyao,” she patted her on the shoulder, “the owner’s son is a huge Qi Yu fan. He secretly gave him a key so he could come and go without dealing with fans or the media.”

“Did anyone ask you to explain?” Tang Yiming rolled his eyes. “You just like butting in!”

In his opinion, it was ridiculous that after finishing a late shoot, Qi Yu’s first stop wasn’t home—but running here to help Zhong Yao fix a blackboard. There had to be something going on.

As the two of them looked like they were about to start another argument, Qi Yu interrupted with a sharp:

“Shut up. Now’s not the time to argue.”

“It’s okay,” Zhong Yao tugged lightly on his sleeve, motioning for him not to worry. “Honestly, this kind of banter actually helps ease the nerves. I feel really confident about fixing the blackboard now.”

However—

Ten minutes later, Zhong Yao wanted to take that back.

Three big-shot teen stars—two with top-notch singing and dancing skills, one skilled in martial arts—yet not a single one of them knew the first thing about making a blackboard poster.

Drawing? Nearly nonexistent. Calligraphy? Just being able to write legibly on the board was already a stretch…

In the end, the only two tasks the three of them were remotely qualified for were: cleaning the blackboard and tidying up afterward. Everything else still had to be carried entirely by Zhong Yao.

That said, having Qi Yu and the others help wash the blackboard did save her a lot of time—though they had to wait quite a while for it to dry.

Zhong Yao didn’t waste that waiting time. She went up to the classroom’s main blackboard to warm up, going through a rough simulation of both her drawings and the calligraphy layout.

It was during this moment that Qi Yu finally understood why she had been so determined to break into the school. She could sketch the entire layout from memory. Who knew how many times she must have practiced it alone?

Next to him, Tang Yiming and Song Shi were clearly stunned too, frantically sending messages in the group chat:

[Tang Duck]: Holy crap, is it a southern thing to be this artistically gifted? That blackboard was insane enough, and this little beauty can just recreate it from memory???

[Lil’ Rock]: Isn’t that obvious? Anyone who can push Qi Yu into a lake is clearly no ordinary person!

Down by the podium, Qi Yu glanced at the serene girl under the classroom light and clicked his tongue before replying in the group:

[Qi Yu]: Stop making a fuss, it’s annoying. If you wanna chat, take it outside.

Tang Yiming & Song Shi: ??

The two of them exchanged wide-eyed looks, faces plastered with the expression of having just uncovered a massive secret.

Then they fell completely silent and quietly snuck over to Class Eight next door. Tang Yiming even sent Qi Yu a private message:

[Tang Yiming]: Bro, we’ll leave you to your romantic moment. Just call us when it’s time to clean up, okay?

Qi Yu hadn’t replied yet when Zhong Yao turned around and asked curiously, “Where did Song Shi and Tang Yiming go? They just disappeared.”

He paused for a beat and, with a perfectly straight face, said, “Tang Yiming wanted to admire the moon, so he dragged Song Shi outside with him.”

“…?”

Zhong Yao was too focused on the blackboard to question it. She muttered, “What a weird hobby…”

Qi Yu stifled a laugh and pointed toward the back of the classroom. “The board’s probably dry enough. Shall we start?”

“Really?!” Zhong Yao perked up instantly and walked over briskly.

The board was still a bit damp, but since painting the flag required water blending anyway, she didn’t wait any longer.

The moon climbed higher and higher, and the school was so quiet that only the sound of the wind could be heard.

In Class Eight, Tang Yiming and Song Shi huddled close together under a jacket, fast asleep.

Meanwhile, in Class Nine, the girl showed no signs of exhaustion, layer after layer applying red chalk. Qi Yu, sitting behind her, got tired just from watching. He saw her arms lift and lower, again and again—several times he wanted to go help and just say, Let me color it for you.

But he didn’t.

Because he realized that every stroke followed a precise texture and direction, with careful pressure—things he couldn’t possibly replicate. It was already difficult enough to patch the board into something halfway decent, and he didn’t want to ruin all her hard work.

Zhong Yao deserved a better outcome than “good enough.”

So instead, Qi Yu simply moved silently behind her, handing her fresh chalk, holding the water basin, doing whatever small things he could.

Zhong Yao was tired, sore, and sleepy—but she turned and gave him a small smile before forcing herself to keep going.

She painted through the entire night.

Finally, as the horizon blushed orange-red, she drew the last stroke. In disbelief, she realized: she had restored the blackboard poster. Completely.

In fact, without a week’s worth of dust covering it, the colors looked even more vivid than before.

“Qi Yu!”

The boy had just dozed off and was jolted awake by her excited voice. He opened his eyes to see Zhong Yao’s face dusted in chalk.

Her eyes sparkled as she pulled him toward the board. “Look! We really made a miracle happen!”

No girl had ever grabbed his sleeve like this, face glowing with starlight, and said something so pure. He was used to girls screaming and chasing him—but never this.

For a split second, Qi Yu felt like he was dreaming.

Before he could make sense of the feeling, Zhong Yao let go.

She seemed to realize their relationship wasn’t at that level yet, and quietly lowered her gaze, lost in thought.

The sun had begun to rise, casting a faint golden glow across the classroom and lighting up her face.

Qi Yu opened his mouth to say something—but couldn’t figure out where to start.

Bathed in the early sunlight, the girl looked up at him again.

She asked, “Qi Yu, can we be friends?”