The underground parking lot of the hospital was empty and desolate, filled with the strong smell of disinfectant, and with its vast area and dim lighting, it was impossible to see the end in one glance.

To break the eerie silence, Chen Jingjing chattered away along the way.

As expected, the topic naturally revolved around Ying Ni.

Chen Jingjing asked, “What kind of classmate is she to you?”

Chen An replied, “A high school classmate.”

Chen Jingjing thought for a moment. “Mingde?”

Chen An hummed in response.

Chen Jingjing was surprised. “Mingde?”

When Chen An was in high school, she was still in the town attending primary school, playing with mud and throwing sandbags every day, completely unaware of the world outside the mountains.

In her concept, the best school was the county’s top high school, which the adults often mentioned—whoever’s child got in would be praised as if their ancestors were smiling.

Therefore, Chen Jingjing thought the county’s top high school was the best school in the world.

Until Chen An received the acceptance letter from Mingde.

The building on the cover was so beautiful—sharp, crimson-colored tower tops, the shining plastic track under the sunlight, the lush green lawn, and the glass house built on water.

It was a style she had never seen before, like the castle in a fairytale book.

Chen Jingjing was happy for her brother, but the neighbors all lamented that Chen An didn’t get into the county’s top school.

Later, a teacher from the town school commented, “But it’s Mingde! Every year, dozens of students go to Tsinghua or Peking University! The county’s top school only sends out one, and that’s if you rely on extra points or self-improvement programs. You probably don’t know, but the tuition at Mingde is hundreds of thousands per year.

The students there are either children of entrepreneurs or the children of leaders. Their network is broader than anyone going to Tsinghua or Peking University. The county’s top school is nothing compared to that!”

Chen Jingjing didn’t quite understand, but she was extremely sensitive to numbers involving money.

Hundreds of thousands for one year’s tuition—she couldn’t even imagine what kind of family that would be.

However, Ying Ni indeed gave her the impression of being the daughter of a wealthy family—beautiful, graceful, and though she appeared aloof from a distance, she wasn’t hard to approach up close.

She took care of her mother, helping her bathe, massage, and empty the bedpan without hesitation. Her attitude toward the medical staff was the best Chen Jingjing had ever seen, always smiling and thanking everyone for their hard work.

Her manners were better than most family members she had seen in the hospital.

“Why can’t she afford the medical fees?” Chen Jingjing wondered.

Chen An’s expression was calm, but his slightly lowered eyelids clearly indicated he was thinking. After a few seconds, he finally replied, “There’s been some trouble at home.”

Chen Jingjing recalled how helpless Ying Ni looked earlier, standing next to the payment window, dialing the phone repeatedly, and suddenly felt a bit uncomfortable.

“I didn’t know she was your classmate, so I didn’t lend her money. She took out an online loan with frighteningly high interest. I asked her to call her relatives, and she said she did, but they didn’t have money. I asked her about friends, and she wouldn’t speak…”

Chen Jingjing sighed long and hard as she thought about her situation. “Maybe it’s because she didn’t want to lose face.”

The car slowly drove out of the parking garage, and Chen An’s voice sounded unusually quiet in the car. It was a long time before he spoke again.

“She doesn’t have many friends.”

“How is that possible!” Chen Jingjing straightened up, not believing it. Isn’t beauty the ultimate weapon?

Chen An replied, “She has a bad temper.”

“Ah…” Chen Jingjing leaned back, furrowing her brows as she recalled her decent interactions with Ying Ni. “I think she’s fine. She’s just not very warm, but it’s not to the point of having a bad temper.”

Chen An said, “That’s because you don’t know her well.”

Chen Jingjing shot him a look, her voice full of meaning, “So, you know her well?”

Chen An replied, “A little better than you.”

Chen Jingjing leaned forward, scrutinizing her brother’s expression, which was still emotionless. But just a few minutes ago, Chen An had bought instant noodles downstairs and even prepared them for her to take up.

After pondering for a while, she came to a conclusion that differed from his indifferent demeanor.

“It’s probably not just a little.”

Chen An didn’t respond. Chen Jingjing opened the vanity mirror, and the surrounding lights turned on. The soft, diffused glow perfectly enhanced the skin and contour of her face.

Having never had companions, she had always been independent, so she envied the girls in class who were well-liked. She often dreamed of herself being like them—eyes a bit bigger, nose a little higher, and the face smaller.

Perhaps if she had been like that, her peers wouldn’t have been so cruel to her, and the cold looks from adults might have turned into smiles.

“No friends, but what about suitors?” Chen Jingjing snapped the mirror shut and looked at her brother. “There must be a lot of people who like her, right?”

The road outside was desolate, and they passed a street lined with late-night snack stalls. The light and shadows moved across the windshield from right to left, flicking past Chen An’s eyes and nose, before vanishing in the retreating street scene.

After a few seconds, he responded with a barely audible, “Mm.”

Not just a few.

…

Luo Zan was an expressive person. After attending the birthday party of Shi Feiyu, where he witnessed a chaotic breakup scene, he returned to the dormitory every day, chattering about it to Chen An.

Chen An wasn’t very interested in gossip, as most of his energy was split between his studies, part-time work, worrying about Wu Qingmei’s chemotherapy, and taking care of Jingjing.

Only at night, when he returned to the dorm, could he temporarily clear his mind for a short while.

Therefore, when Luo Zan babbled away, he would usually just nod or respond with simple phrases like “Is that so?” or “Really?” without elaborating.

He would stop whatever he was doing to look at him and listen attentively, but never commented.

Luo Zan noticed this but couldn’t find a way into the group during the day. Chen An was always polite, and his lips were sealed. So, he’d wait until Chen An was washing up or hanging laundry, and then boldly share his opinions.

One day, while Chen An was brushing his shoes on the balcony, Luo Zan stood next to him, saying, “You know Jin Xi, right? His dad is the police chief, and he’s good friends with Qi Mingchen.

They do everything together, and the teachers always joke that they wear the same underwear. But this afternoon, they had a fight in the equipment room!”

“Qi Mingchen even had a nosebleed!” Luo Zan chuckled. “Can you guess why they fought?”

Chen An was rolling up his sleeves, brushing his shoes and asking softly, “Why?”

Luo Zan scoffed, “It’s because of that fox spirit in our class who’s leading them on!”

Chen An lightly brushed his shoes, careful not to break the sole. He kept his expression neutral but noticed a small water droplet fall onto his jaw from the brush.

“Is that so?” he replied quietly.

Luo Zan continued, “She’s jumping back and forth between Jin Xi and Qi Mingchen. Both of them like her and confessed, but after things went sour, they both insisted on fighting for her.

This afternoon, they got into a fight in the equipment room. Ying Ni was there too, and instead of stopping them, she said that the one who wins gets to be her boyfriend.”

“Can you believe that?!”

Chen An paused for a moment.

If it were anyone else, it would indeed be outrageous, but given Ying Ni’s personality, it seemed reasonable. Chen An wasn’t bothered. After all, with the chaotic environment in the town school, two boys fighting over one girl was considered quite innocent.

Realizing that he didn’t react much, Luo Zan suddenly felt embarrassed about his overreaction, his words full of contempt—“fox spirit,” “leading them on”—and if Ying Ni found out, he’d definitely be in trouble.

So, he pressed his lips together, feeling somewhat awkward.

Chen An shook the water off his hand. “So, did Jin Xi win?”

Hearing this, Luo Zan breathed a sigh of relief. “Let me tell you.” He put the shoes he had cleaned on the railing and turned around. “But wait, you’ll never guess the aftermath.”

Chen An raised an eyebrow. “They lost, didn’t they?”

“Damn! How did you know?!” Luo Zan exclaimed. “Jin Xi got his eye blackened, and Ying Ni said it didn’t count. When Jin Xi asked how bad he had to beat him, Ying Ni said it had to be bad enough to get him arrested.”

“Seriously! How could a girl be like this?!” Luo Zan, who was good with words, couldn’t find an adjective to describe it.

“Rebellious,” Chen An said as he entered the room.

“Exactly!” Luo Zan followed him in, “Why like her of all people? You’ll get your bad karma!”

Chen An took the matter as a breeze, letting it pass.

No marks were left.

However, a week later, during PE class, as Chen An walked out of the bathroom, he ran into a scene of competition. Jin Xi and Qi Mingchen were facing each other, their tension palpable.

He instinctively took a step back, and the voices reached him.

“You’re talking shit about me in front of Ying Ni? It was you who brought me there, okay! I didn’t even take my pants off because I was afraid of getting sick.”

“Bullshit! Do you even have any shame? You think I’m still talking about you? You’re stealing my girl, you deserve to die.”

“I deserve to die? You’re the one looking for death!”

Then came the sound of them fighting.

Chen An took a step to the side, watching them with indifference.

He recalled a classic line from a show—

“Spring is here, everything comes back to life, and it’s the season for animal mating.”

In the animal world, lions fight fiercely for a mate, scratching each other’s faces and eyes without care for their lives. They fight in a cloud of dust for twenty minutes until they are exhausted and fall asleep side by side, each lying at the foot of a tree, just like two stray dogs that can’t live without each other.

But Chen An wasn’t interested in the lives of these boys.

He turned and walked away.