Chapter 5

When She Rui took Zhong Yao home to pack her things, Jin Chuan was gone again.

Zhong Yao let out a long breath, suddenly feeling that living on campus wasn’t such a hard decision after all. After all, wasn’t she alone at home anyway?

She had thought it through—she couldn’t let herself have strange feelings just because her dad happened to be Jin Chuan. No matter who this heartless father was, she had to stick to her original plan:

Stay in school, pick up a small monthly allowance. If she didn’t get one, she’d figure out how to earn her own money through work-study programs. And once she turned eighteen, graduated, and became an adult, she’d return to Auntie Liu and Shiwu. She’d help run the shop and keep being Shiwu’s best friend.

Since she hadn’t unpacked, Zhong Yao was ready to leave with just a lift of her suitcase.

But after some thought, she decided to leave a note for Jin Chuan:

“My mom taught me not to lose my temper for no reason. Last night was my fault. I’m sorry.

Auntie She Rui is taking me to school. I’ve decided on my own to live on campus.

—Zhong Yao”

After writing the final period, she felt that she hadn’t embarrassed her mother, and that she had also formally said goodbye to this father.

Then she dragged her suitcase toward the door.

It was like déjà vu—as soon as she opened the door, she ran right into Jin Chuan standing outside.

Their eyes met, and Jin Chuan immediately felt another headache coming on.

When he realized Zhong Yao had disappeared and wasn’t answering her phone, he had nearly agreed with She Rui’s proposal. After all, neither of them had the time or energy to constantly chase after a missing child.

He was already in a foul mood, and now that he saw the kid again, he couldn’t help but say:
“Zhong Yao, is this what your mom meant by obedient? Running away from home all the time?”

Zhong Yao had planned to calmly say goodbye to her father—but didn’t expect him to dare mention her mother.

She frowned and said sternly,
“Don’t talk about my mom. How was I disobedient? I’m going to live on campus now—isn’t that exactly what you wanted?”

Jin Chuan froze. Suddenly, everything clicked.

So she had overheard his conversation with She Rui this morning? That’s why she ran away and didn’t answer any calls?

Before he could confirm, she added,
“I already called Auntie She Rui. I’m heading to school to check in now.”

Her too-mature voice, laced with grievance, scratched at his nerves like static in his ear—unsettling and hard to ignore.

Jin Chuan wasn’t about to become Superdad overnight, but he had never intended to be as cold as She Rui had suggested. He’d actually wanted to let the kid decide whether to board or not.

Now that she had made her choice—his ideal outcome—she was still acting like she was being forced. And that stirred something in him again.

The girl clearly didn’t want to talk anymore. She turned her back on him, suitcase rolling behind her.

Staring at that small, stubborn figure standing straight despite her size, Jin Chuan, almost involuntarily, reached out and grabbed the handle of her suitcase.

“What are you doing?”
Zhong Yao turned back, face full of defiance.
“I don’t need you to take me.”

She looked every bit like a little brat who kept saying “no” while holding a giant grudge in her heart.

Damn it, Jin Chuan cursed internally. Fine. He owed her this.

He chuckled dryly, then tugged the suitcase so hard it made her stumble a few steps backward. He said lightly:
“Who said you were living on campus? You’re just a middle schooler—of course you’re staying at home with me.”

——

Despite how unfamiliar and awkward Zhong Yao felt around Jin Chuan, he was still her father—a grown-up whose words were final and beyond argument.

He forcibly placed her suitcase by the entrance, grabbed her by the arm, and brought her outside to the underground garage where they met up with She Rui.

Zhong Yao was left alone in the car while the two adults stood outside, clearly in a heated conversation.

When the car door reopened, she was informed: She Rui would still take her to school to register that afternoon, while Jin Chuan would go back to prepare her room at the villa.

Before she could even process or protest, She Rui had already driven off.

Just like that, in a complete daze, she found herself fated to live under the same roof as her celebrity father.

Zhong Yao believed this outcome was simply a result of being overpowered by the authority of adults—she had no way to resist.

It absolutely did not mean that deep down, she wanted to live with her father. Absolutely not.

Throughout the drive, Zhong Yao was dazed and scattered.

Her thoughts shifted by the second. By the time she arrived at the school for registration, she was visibly distracted.

While She Rui was in the office whispering mysteriously with a teacher, Zhong Yao stood blankly on the balcony, taking in the view of the beautiful campus. Unlike the short, squat buildings of Yunshui Middle School, the buildings here were tall and grand.

The campus was lush with greenery—rows of poplar trees standing tall and straight, flowers and lawns wherever you looked, and even a lake with willow trees hanging over the shore. She thought she saw a pair of mandarin ducks playing in the water.

It was even more beautiful than the universities she had imagined. For a moment, Zhong Yao was mesmerized, and suddenly felt like Beijing wasn’t all that bad after all.

Her past experiences with school had been far from pleasant. Though this unfamiliar city made her uneasy, the brand-new environment stirred a faint sense of hope.

She silently prayed:
May the students who study in such a beautiful place… not be as cruel.

“Zhong Yao, class is about to start. Come with me to the classroom,”
a voice behind her interrupted her thoughts—the voice of her new homeroom teacher.

She instantly remembered his name: Jiang Kexue. He was an older male teacher.

Zhong Yao instinctively looked toward She Rui.

She Rui patted her shoulder.
“Go ahead. I’ll pick you up this evening.”

Only then did she nod gently and obediently greet,
“Hello, Teacher Jiang.”

Jiang Kexue led her through an archway, across a domed glass atrium, and up several flights of stairs, finally arriving at the classroom door.

Class 9, Grade 8.

It was just before class, and all the students were already seated. As soon as Zhong Yao stepped into the room, dozens of eyes turned to look at her.

That all-too-familiar sensation of being scrutinized made her tense up. She instinctively straightened her back.

She hated this kind of attention, but because of her striking appearance and unusual family background, she’d lived under such gazes since she was little. So despite her dislike, she handled it fairly well.

“Everyone, quiet down,”
Jiang Kexue tapped the podium.
“We have a new transfer student. I hope you’ll all be kind and welcoming, and show her the spirit of Class 9.”

Then he turned to Zhong Yao and encouraged,
“Go ahead, introduce yourself to the class.”

Jiang Kexue was like most of the teachers she’d encountered—once they knew her background, they’d tend to look after her a bit more.

But Zhong Yao had suffered plenty in peer relationships. The more you said, the more mistakes people found. Others often twisted her words. She glanced around the room—none of them looked as high-and-mighty as kids on TV. Most just looked like ordinary students, like the ones at Yunshui Middle School.

So—

After a long silence and a deep breath, Zhong Yao finally forced out four simple words:
“I’m Zhong Yao.”

The classroom went silent. The students stared wide-eyed, their gazes growing more curious.

What a strange and mysterious transfer student.

She Rui had already briefed Jiang Kexue on Zhong Yao’s background. He had taught many students, was traditional but highly experienced, and didn’t gossip—exactly why She Rui had transferred Zhong Yao to his class.

Understanding the girl’s initial discomfort, Jiang Kexue smiled warmly and pointed to a chubby boy sitting near the window:
“Panda, move back one seat. He Lingli, you’ll be Zhong Yao’s deskmate. Be kind and helpful, alright?”

Down below, He Lingli blinked and gave a playful salute:
“Yes, sir! Mission accepted!”

Laughter erupted in the room as Zhong Yao walked toward her seat. But strangely enough, she didn’t feel embarrassed or out of place.

Maybe it was because all the teasing seemed directed at He Lingli, not her. She sat down beside the girl, who seemed completely unfazed by the laughter. Smiling, He Lingli pulled over a Chinese textbook and said,
“You probably don’t have textbooks yet, right? Let’s share this one for today. After class, I’ll go with you to the academic office to pick yours up!”

In Zhong Yao’s 14 years of life, aside from Sun Shiwu, hardly anyone had spoken to her so kindly—using words like “let’s” and “I’ll go with you.”

He Lingli’s friendliness caught her off guard, leaving her slightly flustered.

She paused, then forced herself to appear calm and gave her deskmate a slight nod.
“Mm. Thanks.”

Zhong Yao didn’t dare respond with equal warmth. Her elementary school deskmate had once been just as friendly—only to later turn on her over a boy and constantly pick fights. That same girl had falsely accused her of stealing money. Her name was Tan Xiao.

So now, facing kindness again, Zhong Yao couldn’t help but be overly cautious.

But He Lingli didn’t seem to mind at all.

Even with Zhong Yao’s somewhat distant demeanor, she kept cheerfully explaining everything about the school:

“Our Chinese teacher’s young, but a total stick-in-the-mud. She even nags girls about getting their ears pierced—so annoying!”

“Our English teacher is super cool—totally a girlboss, goddess-type teacher…”

“Our class monitor? She’s also the class beauty, and she has a crush—no wait, a full-on public crush—on Qi Yu!”

He Lingli was like a walking, talking radio station. Zhong Yao got the feeling there was nothing about this school her deskmate didn’t know.

Maybe she was just trying to help Zhong Yao settle in as quickly as possible. But for some reason, Zhong Yao still felt slightly overwhelmed.

She herself had once been labeled the class beauty, even the school beauty—rumors about her and various boys had always been the favorite topic of gossip.

So when He Lingli excitedly told Zhong Yao:

“You know Qi Yu, right? That guy—”

Zhong Yao quickly cut her off.
“Um, He Lingli, class is starting. Can we talk after the lesson?”

“Oops, sorry,” He Lingli stuck her tongue out, sheepish. “I talk too much. Oh, and by the way, ‘Fatty’—that’s the guy sitting behind you, Panda—he used to chat with me nonstop.”

Zhong Yao replied, “Mm. The teacher’s here.”

For every ten things He Lingli said, Zhong Yao might respond to one. Perhaps even He Lingli realized it was getting boring and finally quieted down.

But the silence lasted less than three minutes before He Lingli leaned over again and whispered:
“Zhong Yao, students as obedient and well-behaved as you are really rare these days.”

Zhong Yao: …

She began to think maybe she had misjudged He Lingli. For someone this talkative and openly cheerful—with, admittedly, a rather prominent chest—she probably wasn’t a bad person.

The corners of Zhong Yao’s lips lifted in a faint curve, though she still only gave a small nod and a quiet “Mm.”

Then she looked up at the blackboard, where the Chinese teacher, dressed in a professional outfit, was writing the title of the lesson in large characters:
“Mr. Fujino.”

“This piece is an essay. At the time, China’s situation…”

The teacher’s formulaic tone pulled Zhong Yao’s mind elsewhere. Her gaze drifted out the window, settling on the fluttering poplar leaves dancing in the breeze.

It was as if the sorrow that had built up over the past few days was cut open by wind and leaves. For the first time since arriving in Beijing, Zhong Yao felt a sense of calm.

–

The moment the bell rang, He Lingli dragged Zhong Yao out of the classroom at lightning speed.

As they rushed through the hallway teeming with students, Zhong Yao gasped, “Hey, slow down!”

“Can’t!” He Lingli declared. “Next class is English—our goddess is teaching. I can’t be late!”

So Zhong Yao had no choice but to follow her deskmate in a whirlwind sprint.

The academic office was on the far side of the field. As soon as they stepped onto the sports ground, a sudden explosion of cheers and screams erupted from the basketball court to their left.

He Lingli halted in her tracks, immediately forgetting her goddess and pulled Zhong Yao in another direction.
“Come on, let’s take a look!”

Zhong Yao: …

She didn’t want to be late and draw attention to herself, so she wasn’t keen on stopping. But not wanting to reject He Lingli’s friendliness, she followed anyway.

“Holy crap!” He Lingli exclaimed the moment they reached the front row. “Is that Qi Yu? Didn’t he take the day off for some event? What’s he doing playing basketball here? And—”

“And that new white hair makes him look amazing, right?!” a girl beside her chimed in.

He Lingli nodded so hard she nearly sprained her neck.
“Yes, yes! Qi Yu’s so cool. Dyeing his hair white while he’s in the spotlight? I bet he’ll be back on the school flagpole making a public apology next Monday!”

The other girl scoffed, “No way. Haven’t you seen Weibo? Qi Yu dyed it on purpose to dodge that TV program. The production team flipped out when they saw the photos of his hair!”

While the two girls chattered away, Zhong Yao stood behind them, feeling more and more uncomfortable.

She furrowed her brow and nudged He Lingli’s shoulder.
“He Lingli, can we go get the textbooks now? There’s only five minutes until class.”

Only then did He Lingli remember Zhong Yao. But instead of leaving, she pulled her even closer to the front row.

“Goddess is precious, but class is pricier. Yet for Qi Yu, I’d toss both aside!”
She gazed at the court, starry-eyed, and pointed at the white-haired boy executing a slam dunk.
“Zhong Yao, allow me to formally introduce you to our school—no, the entire entertainment industry’s rising star: the son of pop legend Qi Cheng and Grand Slam-winning actress Xiao Manru—superstar second-gen, Qi Yu!”

Zhong Yao wasn’t interested at first. But when she heard entertainment industry, she instinctively followed her deskmate’s finger.

And then she saw it—a cold, rebellious face she knew all too well. That white-haired boy, sweating on the court, was the same one who had dragged her into that chase earlier that morning, with an attitude as arrogant and dismissive as it was infuriating.

Zhong Yao froze, stunned. She couldn’t look away.

At that very moment, Qi Yu twisted midair for a layup—and locked eyes with her.

He hesitated for a beat, and the basketball was stolen right out of his hand.

“Dude! Qi Yu, what are you looking at?!”
Next to him, Tang Yiming elbowed him and curiously followed his line of sight.

Naturally, he spotted Zhong Yao too.

“No freaking way!” Tang Yiming’s eyes widened. “Isn’t that the same cutie from this morning?! So she is a student here? Holy crap—wait, was she pretending not to know you?!”

Zhong Yao had no idea what just happened, but she saw Qi Yu’s expression turn visibly colder.

He jumped back into the game and quickly reclaimed the ball, making her think perhaps he didn’t care about seeing her again.

Just as she turned to urge He Lingli to leave—

A basketball came flying straight at her.

The throw wasn’t particularly fast—it looked more like a bad pass that had gone off-course. Reflexively, Zhong Yao reached out and caught it to avoid getting hit.

Then, from a short distance away, she heard Qi Yu’s lazy, roguish voice call out:
“Hey, classmate, mind tossing that ball back?”

---

Author’s Note:
Qi Yu, your current swagger is tomorrow’s regret. 🙂