Chapter 22: He’s Not a Renminbi

The young man’s gaze lingered on Cheng Yuan. With her bangs swept back, revealing a smooth, radiant forehead, she was even more stunning than when he’d first seen her.

“Excuse me, please move,” Cheng Yuan repeated calmly.

Standing beside her, Bei Xiaolin tugged at her sleeve and whispered, “Could he be here… for you?”

Cheng Yuan dismissed the idea without a second thought. “Impossible.”

“Cheng Yuan, these are my old notes. I thought they might help you with your studies,” the young man said, his voice uncertain as he nervously extended a stack of materials. He seemed unused to giving things to people, and in his awkwardness, one sheet slipped from his hands and fluttered to the ground.

He bent down quickly to retrieve it.

“Who are you? And why are you giving me these?” Cheng Yuan asked, eyeing him suspiciously. If it were the old me, I’d probably find him handsome—your typical school heartthrob. But now… he just seems immature. Like a kid, acting on impulse.

The young man froze in place, still crouched, and looked up at her, astonished. His handsome face flickered with disbelief. Standing up slowly, he took a step back, his expression complicated.

“You don’t remember me?” he asked after a long pause.

Cheng Yuan studied his face for a moment before shaking her head. “No. I don’t.”

His lips tightened as he gave her a long, searching look. Then, without another word, he turned and walked away. His final glance seemed to accuse her of forgetting something important.

“That was weird,” Cheng Yuan muttered, watching him leave. A moment later, she sensed someone staring at her from the doorway of Class Seven. The intense gaze made her uncomfortable.

“Yuanyuan, tell me! What did you do? Don’t you know who that is? How could you not know?” Bei Xiaolin buzzed beside her.

“He’s not a hundred-yuan bill. Why should everyone know him?” Cheng Yuan replied dryly, her attention shifting back to the source of that unsettling gaze. Eventually, her eyes locked onto a girl in the crowd with a high ponytail—Meng Yue.

“That was Ye Mingyu!” Bei Xiaolin whispered excitedly. “The top student in our grade! Total heartthrob! And I heard his family is loaded!”

By the time Cheng Yuan looked again, the girl with the ponytail had already disappeared into the classroom.

“Whether he’s Ye Mingyu or Zhou Mingyu, I don’t know him,” Cheng Yuan said flatly.

Bei Xiaolin gave her a look. “You really don’t know him? Then how did he end up giving you study materials?”

“Maybe he’s lost his mind,” Cheng Yuan muttered.

Bei Xiaolin was speechless.
Why is life so unfair? I’d kill for Ye Mingyu to hand me anything.

Back in the classroom, Bei Xiaolin continued to chatter while Cheng Yuan focused on her homework, seemingly indifferent.

Then, Cheng Yuan suddenly stopped writing.

Bei Xiaolin blinked. “What’s wrong?”

“What did you just say?”

“I said… like, eighty percent of the girls in school are into him?”

“The sentence before that.”

Bei Xiaolin thought for a second. “Oh, I said Meng Yue likes him too.”

Cheng Yuan’s eyes darkened.

That made things clearer. Li Liang was one of Meng Yue’s followers. She’d always thought he was just a bully who picked on easy targets, but now… it seemed more complicated.

Could this be the real reason she was targeted throughout high school?

Did she know Ye Mingyu at all?

She racked her brain but still couldn’t recall any encounter. That evening, after dinner, she sought him out.

“You remember me?” Ye Mingyu’s eyes lit up when he saw her.

“No. I don’t,” Cheng Yuan replied honestly. Seeing the disappointment in his face, she added, “When did we meet?”

Ye Mingyu gave a bitter smile. “So you really don’t remember.”

“Then tell me,” she pressed.

“Do you remember the person you saved by Peach Blossom Lake? It was a Friday night, first semester of freshman year.”

Cheng Yuan’s brow furrowed. She did remember going to Peach Blossom Lake back then to study in peace. One time, someone had fallen in, and she’d jumped in without thinking.

“I saved you?” she asked slowly.

He nodded. “Later, I even gave you a thank-you note. You told me you wanted to focus on your studies and didn’t want to be friends—not even pen pals.”

Cheng Yuan blinked. That didn’t sound right.

“I never received any letter. And I certainly didn’t thank you like that.”

Ye Mingyu looked stunned. “That’s impossible. I gave you a thank-you note, a gift, and even a hundred yuan.”

“A hundred yuan?” Cheng Yuan echoed in disbelief. “Who did you give it to?”

“Meng Yue,” he said, puzzled. “She said she was your friend. She told me you got everything, but that you didn’t want to be disturbed.”

Everything clicked into place.

No wonder Meng Yue had been so hostile toward her. She had kept everything for herself—his note, the gift, even the money. Then she had Li Liang make Cheng Yuan’s school life miserable.

“You really didn’t get any of it?” Ye Mingyu asked, still trying to process it. “She never mentioned anything to me either…”

“I didn’t receive anything,” Cheng Yuan said, her voice flat. There was no point in protecting Meng Yue. Her gaze lingered on Ye Mingyu’s conflicted face. He had been the unwitting cause of all her suffering.

“I’m sorry,” Ye Mingyu said quietly, bowing deeply. “I meant to give it to you myself, but… my grandmother passed away that week. I just wanted to say thank you properly, but—”

“You already thanked me that day,” Cheng Yuan interrupted. “Besides, it’s all in the past. I’ve forgotten it.” She turned and quickly walked away, unable to bear the sight of his face a moment longer.

After Ye Mingyu left, Cheng Yuan remained seated on the grass, deep in thought.

“Meng Yue, since you’re here, why are you hiding?” Cheng Yuan called out, her eyes fixed on a decorative tree. A shadow lingered behind it.

“You think saving Ye Mingyu means you can have him?” Meng Yue’s haughty voice rang out, just as Cheng Yuan remembered it—arrogant, entitled, and sharp. The daughter of the County Secretary, with a food factory magnate for a maternal grandfather—she had every reason to be proud.

“Even if you tore your heart out and handed it to him,” Meng Yue sneered, “he still wouldn’t care.”

Cheng Yuan smirked. “Then what are you afraid of?”