Chapter 8: Class

In the blink of an eye, it was the day of military training.

The soft morning light filtered in as the 7 a.m. alarm gently pulled Lin Yumo from her dreams.

She rubbed her sleepy eyes, rose with slow, light movements, and walked to the sink.

Water flowed gently from the tap; she cupped it in her hands and patted her cheeks. In the mirror, the girl’s brows were relaxed, her lips naturally curved into a faint smile—an expression filled with anticipation for the day ahead.

Entering the walk-in closet, her gaze landed on the neatly folded military training uniform.

Her fingertips brushed over the coarse fabric, and memories surfaced—wearing this same outfit in her past life, sweating under the scorching sun.

She drew a deep breath, then slowly put it on. The fabric fit snugly over the body that had been shaped by a summer of yoga and nourished by her “golden finger.”

Standing before the full-length mirror, the girl’s skin was like smooth jade, naturally luminous; the faint curves of her young body spoke of budding youth, and her upright posture gave her a touch of poise and elegance.

She combed her waterfall-like black hair until it was smooth, then skillfully braided it into a side ponytail. When she put on the military cap, the eyes beneath the brim shone with expectation.

At this hour, her parents were still asleep, but Aunt Wu had already laid out a steaming breakfast on the table.

Lin Yumo sat down, picked up a cup of jasmine milk, and took a light sip. The rich creaminess of the milk mingled with the delicate fragrance of jasmine in her mouth. She then began her breakfast in an unhurried, orderly way.

After eating, Uncle Wu was already waiting at the door. The car rolled slowly out of the driveway, passing students on bicycles headed to school.

Though the Lin family home was quite close to the school, her parents still preferred Uncle Wu to drive her so she could get familiar with the route—this care warmed her heart.

At the gates of City A No. 1 High, the early morning was already a sea of green.

Stepping out of the car, she felt her breath catch slightly at the bustling crowd.

A few fresh, youthful gazes landed on her before quickly sliding away, though some still lingered with curious glances.

Some students who seemed to know each other looked at her, froze for a second, nudged one another, and then smiled, leaning in to whisper.

Lin Yumo simply returned a gentle smile—graceful and composed, as if she had long been accustomed to such attention.

Following the signs, she arrived at the door of Class 7, Grade 1. The moment she pushed it open, the noisy classroom abruptly fell silent.

Some who were still mid-conversation, thinking the homeroom teacher had arrived, stopped talking and looked toward the door. Instead of the teacher, they saw a refined, delicate-looking girl.

After a brief pause, the noise swelled again.

At first, Lin Yumo felt a flicker of nervousness at the attention, but it passed quickly. She glanced around the classroom, noting that about half the students had arrived, and her gaze settled on a cute girl with twin ponytails.

The girl’s bright eyes brimmed with curiosity and friendliness. Lin Yumo returned her smile and walked over to sit beside her.

“You’re so pretty—I noticed you the moment you came in,” Song Xingran said with a sunny grin, her eyes curving like crescent moons.

The warmth in her tone was infectious, and memories from Lin Yumo’s past life surged forward—back then, she had been sitting alone in the last row, upset over a poor exam result, missing out on so many wonderful encounters.

The girl’s voice was as crisp as wind chimes. “I’m Song Xingran! You have this scent… uh…”

“Jasmine?” Lin Yumo replied without thinking, then froze.

She suddenly realized that this faint, lingering fragrance might very well be something brought on by her mysterious mark.

Song Xingran suddenly leaned in, her nose almost brushing Lin Yumo’s cheek. “Yes! Like jasmine after the rain!”

She eagerly grabbed Lin Yumo’s wrist—only to let out a small gasp upon touching her. “Your skin… it’s cool, like jade!”

The corners of Lin Yumo’s lips curved upward as she said softly,
“Thank you.”

Suddenly, Song Xingran leaned in, her warm breath brushing against Lin Yumo’s ear.

Lin Yumo lowered her gaze with a faint smile, tilting her fair ear slightly toward her. A few strands of hair swayed gently with the motion.

“Little Jasmine, can I call you that?”

Song Xingran’s voice was sweet as honey, the ending lilted upward with a hint of playfulness.

Lin Yumo’s eyelashes quivered—the nickname nudged open a box in her memory that had long been sealed away.

Her lips softened into a gentle curve.
“Of course you can.”

Before the words had fully fallen, Song Xingran had already grabbed her wrist excitedly, crumpling the fabric of her military training uniform in her palm.

“Little Jasmine, let me tell you something!” The girl’s bright eyes arched like crescents.

“I know someone who looks just as good as you!” She deliberately lowered her voice, though the excitement still spilled through.

“His name is Chi Ling—he moved straight up from No. 1 High School’s junior division!”
When she spoke the name, Song Xingran unconsciously straightened her back, as if introducing some rare treasure.

The fingers Lin Yumo was using to adjust her military cap stilled slightly.
That name was like a drop of ink falling into the still lake of her heart, sending ripples through her calm.

“He was the top scorer in this year’s high school entrance exam!”
Song Xingran’s eyes sparkled as she gestured animatedly.

“I heard the principal personally gave him a scholarship, and he looks like he stepped straight out of a comic…”
She suddenly lowered her voice even further, leaning in with a conspiratorial air.

“The kind who looks cold and untouchable, but actually makes you really want to make him cry!”

Cough— Lin Yumo choked at the brazen words.

Song Xingran stopped abruptly, her cheeks flushing.
“Aiya, well, you get it—he’s just… really, really attractive!”

How could she not know him?
Lin Yumo’s fingertips absentmindedly rubbed the cuff of her military training uniform, but her heartbeat had already gone out of rhythm.

Memories surged like a tide.

She remembered that noisy summer afternoon filled with cicada song, hiding in the corridor after a poor physics test result.

The boy holding a basketball then… his image slowly overlapped with the one in Song Xingran’s description.

The sunlight filtering through the gaps in the plane tree leaves, the dappled light on his hair, and the casual smile when he turned around—all of it had been the reason for so many of her sleepless nights.

Later, she quietly paid attention to him—she knew his grades were excellent, knew about his family background, knew his personality.

She remembered how she would always pretend to pass by his classroom between periods, how her gaze would skim over the dense confessions on the “wall of love” and feel a mix of sourness and envy.

Those passionate words, those brave girls—they had all reminded her of her own timidity.

Now, Song Xingran’s words felt like a key, unlocking both the sweetness and the regret in her memories.

Still, Chi Ling had been her silent motivation.
Whenever she felt unhappy, she would look at secretly snapped photos of him on the wall of love. She kept following him quietly all the way until the college entrance exams ended, when he was admitted to A University as the provincial top scorer, and they went their separate ways forever. “Little Jasmine? What are you daydreaming about?”
Song Xingran waved her fingers in front of her eyes.

Lin Yumo came back to herself, her fingertips gently pressing her warm earlobe as she lowered her gaze, hiding the turbulence in her eyes.

“It’s nothing. I was just thinking… it’s really something to meet someone that outstanding.”

Her voice was soft, carrying a sigh only she could hear.