That evening, after having dinner together, Xu Xing, Tang Mian, and Wang Zicong walked back as the golden glow of the setting sun bathed the school field, casting long shadows of the swaying trees and towering street lamps.

Tang Mian mentioned she needed to return to the dormitory, so the three parted ways midway, leaving Xu Xing and Wang Zicong to head back to the classroom together.

In the repetitive life of a high school senior, some students were buried under an ocean of exam papers, no longer paying attention to the sunset or the breeze outside. Others found brief moments to breathe, leaving behind piles of tests, standing in the corridor, enjoying the evening wind, and dreaming of the holidays after the June exams.

Xu Xing sat in the classroom, leaning against the wall. He turned to glance at the daily question written on the backboard, silently reciting the prompt before turning back to copy it into his notebook.

Today’s daily physics problem was quite lengthy, taking up nearly a third of the board. The dense white chalk writing squeezed in next to the class signatures at the center of the board.

Lu Che, leaning his head lazily against the window, absentmindedly played with a gel pen in his hand. His calm and gentle gaze rested on the face of the person in front of him, who occasionally turned around, carefully tracing his features.

Whenever Xu Xing turned to look at the backboard, his thin lips would subconsciously part slightly, revealing glimpses of his neatly aligned teeth. Whenever he coughed softly, the tip of his tongue would briefly peek out.

Lu Che, touching the tip of his nose, forced his greedy gaze away from that soft sight.

He reached out and roughly swept away the scattered books and small items on the desk, clearing a space. With sincere enthusiasm, he invited Xu Xing, “Class monitor, why don’t you just turn around and copy the question? Watching you twist your neck back and forth must be tiring.”

Xu Xing rubbed the back of his neck. It was true that his neck was starting to feel sore from all the turning, but he stubbornly refused Lu Che’s offer, “No need, I’m almost done.”

Hearing this, Lu Che stood up, glanced at Xu Xing’s notebook, and chuckled, “You’re still missing more than half.”

Xu Xing ignored him, turning his head to focus on the blackboard, silently memorizing the next sentence before turning back to write it down.

His handwriting was neat and clear. Just as he finished writing the words “guide rail” at the end of the sentence, he heard a deep, magnetic voice from behind: “At the start, blocks B and C are connected by a rope—”

“…”

Xu Xing turned his head to look at Lu Che, only to see him sitting on his desk, with his arm resting on the windowsill near Xu Xing.

Lu Che lowered his head to meet his gaze and said softly, “Go on, keep writing. I’ll read it for you.”

Xu Xing hesitated for a moment before turning around to write down the sentence Lu Che had just recited. The person behind him immediately continued, “A compressed light spring is placed between them—”

There was still half an hour before the evening study session bell would ring, and other classmates were slowly returning to the classroom.

Fu Dai and Zhou Mang came back together.

The first thing Fu Dai did was glance at Xu Xing’s desk, noticing that Xiong Huan hadn’t returned yet. Only then did he leisurely shift his attention to his own deskmate—

Perhaps it was because Lu Che’s voice was naturally deep and pleasant, but even reciting a physics problem made it sound like a heartfelt love letter.

Fu Dai, propping his face on his hand, couldn’t help but tease, “A-Che, since when did you become so supportive and caring? Shouldn’t you be reading love poems to girls instead of reciting problems to the class monitor?”

Xu Xing’s pen paused imperceptibly.

Lu Che smiled nonchalantly and replied, “Which girl should I be reading love poems to? Our Chinese class representative?”

Xiong Huan was their class’s Chinese class representative.

Fu Dai immediately retorted, “Get lost, just keep helping the class monitor read.”

Lu Che leaned back, hands behind his head, and laughed, “Alright, I’ll take your advice.”

Xu Xing finished copying the problem, ignoring the banter behind him, stood up with his water bottle, and walked to the front to fill it with warm water. Instead of immediately returning to his seat, he went outside to the corridor for some fresh air.

Xu Xing leaned his chin on his thermos cup, zoning out as he stared at the ink-like orange sunset in the distance.

“Hey, Xingxing, what’re you doing?”

Xu Xing snapped out of his thoughts and turned to see Tang Mian walking over from the other end of the corridor with a smile.

He waved away his tangled thoughts and replied half-heartedly, “I’m just tired.”

His gaze fell on Tang Mian’s damp hair, and he raised his eyebrows slightly in surprise, “You actually went back to the dorm to wash your hair?”

Standing beside him, Tang Mian pushed him away with a playful huff, “Why do I need your permission to wash my hair?”

Xu Xing chuckled, “No, it’s just that tomorrow’s Saturday. Don’t you feel like you wasted it by washing your hair today?”

Washing your hair on Friday or Saturday felt like a waste—this phrase had originally come from Tang Mian herself.

Tang Mian gave Xu Xing a sideways glance and lifted her chin, “I’m in a good mood today, that’s why.”

She dramatically flicked her hair and hummed as she turned and walked into the classroom.

Xu Xing followed her, walking back into the classroom just as the bell for the evening study session rang.

The next morning.

During the usual morning class, there was a small incident: Fu Dai was caught playing with his phone during class, right in front of the grade director, and was immediately called to the office for a talk.

It was a bit of a funny situation. Normally, Fu Dai slept through both the early study session and the first period, but today, he seemed possessed by sudden determination. He announced, “From today, I’m going to study seriously. Ke Di, don’t bother me in class anymore.”

Ke Di found it hilarious and replied, “Go ahead, I’ll sleep and won’t disturb your passion for learning.”

Fu Dai stared at his textbook with determination, managing to stay focused for half of the class. He nearly dozed off several times, yawning and pinching his leg to keep himself awake.

In the end, he couldn’t take it anymore. Sneakily, he pulled out his phone from under the desk. When he noticed Lu Che watching him with a teasing smile, Fu Dai quickly explained, “I’m too tired, just gonna play a game to refresh myself before I get back to studying.”

Lu Che half-heartedly responded, “Oh,” and turned back to the blackboard.

But—

Before Fu Dai could even open his game, the director unexpectedly appeared at the back door and caught him red-handed.

Whenever Fu Dai played with his phone, Ke Di usually kept watch for him, but today, without his lookout, he was busted.

After class, Fu Dai returned from the office with a dark expression, his hands empty.

Ke Di couldn’t stop laughing as he slapped the desk, “What happened? Wasn’t our buddy Fu Dai determined to study hard today? How could the director not notice and still confiscate your phone? I really feel for you, man. Even if you pulled out your phone during class, it was definitely for learning purposes!”

Fu Dai resisted the urge to strangle Ke Di and muttered, “Shut up.”

After teasing him, Ke Di consoled him, “It’s Saturday, so you can get your phone back after school this afternoon. Not a big deal.”

Their school had a semi-closed management system, allowing students to carry their phones to stay in touch with family. The punishment for using phones during class was light—aside from a minor demerit, the phone would be returned on weekends, and sometimes they had to run laps around the track. To Fu Dai, these punishments were nothing. He was just frustrated—

He had even stuck a piece of paper over the back door, but of all days, the director showed up today, peeled back the A3 sheet, and caught him pulling out his phone from under the desk, completely unaware of what was happening.

Frustrated, Fu Dai said, “I think our director is just too strict. I told him I studied all morning, but he wouldn’t cut me any slack.”

His logic was nonsense. Xu Xing chimed in, “Don’t say that. The director’s not unreasonable.”

Fu Dai, still angry, didn’t like what he heard. He snapped, “Class monitor, come on, you’ve never even dealt with him. How do you know he’s reasonable?”

Teenage boys, brash and immature: when they disliked someone, they wished the whole world would condemn that person, so they could feel justified.

Lu Che noticed the sarcastic tone in Fu Dai’s words and cut in, “It’s not the director’s fault. Stop acting like a child.”

Ke Di, still laughing, added, “Hey man, when you see the director, just admit your mistake right away, keep your posture low, and remember you still have your future mother-in-law to think about.”

At this, Fu Dai deflated, casting his gaze toward the girl sitting a few seats ahead, feeling dejected. He used to be a notorious troublemaker, and during his junior year, he spent a long time butting heads with his “future mother-in-law.”

It wasn’t until later, when Xiong Huan captivated him, that he decided to straighten up, smooth out his rough edges, and try to be a good, rule-abiding student.

Now that he’d kept up the act for so long, he couldn’t afford to mess it up. If he gave his future mother-in-law the impression that he was “back to his old ways,” it would be disastrous.

Although Fu Dai was frustrated, he let the matter slide for the time being.

Kedi quickly changed the subject and asked Lu Che, “Bro Che, what are you doing on Sunday?”

Leaning against the wall, Lu Che stretched and lazily replied, “Sleeping.”

Such a brief answer clearly wasn’t what Kedi wanted, so he pressed further, “Sleeping all day? Your life must be so boring.”

Lu Che, glancing at Xu Xing’s back, sighed dramatically, “What can I do? I’m all alone at school, no friends or family around. Even if I go outside, I have no idea where to go.”

He emphasized how utterly pitiful his situation was.

Then, he poked Xu Xing’s back and asked, “Class monitor, can I come over to your house and hang out tomorrow?”

Xu Xing, frowning, immediately rejected him, “No.”

“…”

Kedi burst out laughing and teased, “Bro Che, you can come hang out with me!”

Lu Che responded half-heartedly, saying sure, but in his mind, he thought, “No way.”

Just then, the homeroom teacher walked in through the back door, handing a leave request slip to Xu Xing.

Xu Xing, responsible for recording class attendance, took the note and glanced at it: Lin Peisang was on sick leave.

He looked toward the first row of desks and only then noticed Lin Peisang’s empty seat. Xu Xing placed the note to the side, planning to log it in the class record book after the next period.

With only two classes on Saturday afternoon, Xu Xing went straight home after school.

That night.

Xu Xing sat at his desk, finishing his math and science homework, when he heard the “ding” of a message notification.

He unplugged his phone from the charger and saw a message from Xu Yin saying, “Got the package.”

Xu Xing opened WeChat, ready to reply with an “OK,” when he noticed a red dot next to his contacts. Tapping on it, he saw that someone named LC had sent him a friend request with a note: “Class monitor~”

Xu Xing frowned at the squiggly line.

He clicked on the person’s profile with a look of disgust. The completely black profile picture didn’t tempt him to click on it. His finger hovered over the “Add to Blacklist” button for a long while before he reluctantly pressed the green “Approve” button.

The interface’s “Processing” and “Verified” messages appeared almost instantaneously, followed by a flood of photos from LC—

Lu Che bombarded him with over a dozen pictures.

After they all finished loading, Lu Che sent a text message: “Class monitor, help me pick one for my profile picture, okay?”

Xu Xing: “…”

Xu Xing felt like cursing. Every single photo was of Lu Che. Judging from the backgrounds, they were obviously taken when Lu Che participated in the city basketball competition. The photographer was quite skilled—the boy in the photos exuded confidence and pride, a far cry from the clingy, whiny persona he displayed on WeChat.

And besides—

Any guy who asks someone else to choose a profile picture for him nowadays is clearly not normal.

Xu Xing, speechless, tapped away on his phone’s nine-grid keyboard.

Xu Xing: “Are you crazy?”

Lu Che: “You know I’m a bit shy. It took me a while to come up with this excuse to send you these photos.”

Xu Xing: “Why would I want your pictures? Are you sick?”

Lu Che: “Do whatever you want with them. Use them as you like. Don’t be shy. [/smile]”

“…”

Xu Xing: “Get lost.”

He muted his phone and set it face down on the desk, ignoring Lu Che’s follow-up messages asking, “Aren’t I considerate?” and “I hope the class monitor returns the favor.”