Chapter 16

Qin Xiaoxiao’s lowered head and furrowed brows were interpreted by Feng Maoxing as: My cousin has been deeply hurt after learning the cold truth.

Feeling sorry for her, he pulled his cousin to the second floor of the cafeteria and generously ordered a table full of stir-fried dishes.

Faced with the spread of dishes on the table, Qin Xiaoxiao asked curiously, “What day is it today?”

Feng Maoxing thought to himself: My cousin is hiding her sadness and pretending nothing’s wrong. He called out to Qin Xiaoxiao, “Go ahead and eat.”

Can the two of them really finish all this food? Although her uncle’s family was wealthy, they shouldn’t be so extravagant and wasteful. Qin Xiaoxiao couldn’t hold back and said, “You ordered too much.”

“It’s not too much, not too much,” Feng Maoxing shook his head. He had seen this kind of thing on TV—when girls are heartbroken, they turn their sorrow into appetite, eat a lot, and their mood improves.

Upholding the traditional Chinese virtue of frugality, “Teacher Qin,” unaware of her cousin’s good intentions, slipped into her professional habit and patiently advised, “How is this not too much? There’s no way the two of us can finish all this food, and in the end, won’t it just go to waste? Every grain of rice, every bowl of porridge, we must remember how hard it is to come by. Even a little bit of food—”

“Then you can take care of it,” he interrupted.

“I can’t possibly eat this much,” Qin Xiaoxiao replied.

“But aren’t you…” Feng Maoxing’s bright eyes studied her face intently, not missing a single expression. Then, he hesitated and asked, “You’re not sad anymore?”

“Sad about what?” Qin Xiaoxiao connected all of Feng Maoxing’s words and actions since the afternoon and finally understood—her cousin was worried that she was upset about that matter.

“You…”

“I’m not sad,” Qin Xiaoxiao said with a smile. “Why would I be sad?”

Feng Maoxing was shocked. “The person you like doesn’t genuinely like you…”

“Who do I like? I don’t even like him.”

Feng Maoxing still couldn’t quite believe it. “But last time, I saw you secretly slipping a love letter into his desk.”

“No,” Qin Xiaoxiao said, a bit helpless. “It’s not what you think.”

She recalled the incident, trying to figure out whether Feng Maoxing had seen the time she was returning a phone or the time she delivered a love letter for Wang Xin… “It wasn’t a love letter; it was a phone. I was afraid someone would see, so I wrapped it in paper.”

“It wasn’t a love letter?”

“Mm.”

“You really don’t like the school… Ji Wenchen?”

Qin Xiaoxiao nodded. “That’s right.”

Feng Maoxing popped a large meatball into his mouth and chewed, digesting both the meatball and his cousin’s words.

“Then I’m relieved,” he said, his left cheek bulging with food. “When are you breaking up with him?”

“I don’t know,” Qin Xiaoxiao said as she picked up her chopsticks. “Whenever he brings it up, we’ll break up.”

…

During the seating rearrangement in May, Qin Xiaoxiao’s table was assigned to the back of the classroom.

Right behind them was Ji Wenchen, who occupied two desks all by himself.

On the day of the rearrangement, Yang Min quietly complained to Qin Xiaoxiao, “Oh, come on, why did they have to put the two of us near the school bully?”

Qin Xiaoxiao was busy organizing her things and didn’t respond.

“I’m going to be so intimidated by the school bully’s terrifying aura that I’ll be trembling in fear…” To match her words, Yang Min crossed her arms and mimed a dramatic “trembling” performance.

“He’s not in the classroom right now,” Qin Xiaoxiao glanced at Yang Min, “so you don’t have to speak so quietly.”

“What if one of his lackeys hears my complaints, tells him, and then the school bully uses his fists to teach me a lesson?”

Qin Xiaoxiao: “…”

With no teacher in the classroom, Yang Min couldn’t keep her mouth shut. “What’s up with the class monitor? Still sitting in front of us—has he latched onto our table or something?”

“I was about to ask why your desk seems glued to my chair,” Tao Lei, no matter what he was doing, could always fire back instantly at Yang Min’s attacks.

“Who the hell wants to sit front and back with you?” Yang Min retorted mercilessly. “Seeing your greasy back of the head every day is enough to make me sick!”

“You… you tomboy! Your pockmarked face is even greasier!”

Yang Min had freckles on her face and hated it when people mentioned them. Her voice rose two pitches in anger: “You sissy! Shorty! Third-rate cripple!”

“Better than you, dimwit! Paramecium!”

…

Here they go again—those two would bicker every now and then, and Qin Xiaoxiao was long used to it.

It was just a bit noisy.

“Eat so much and get so fat, your IQ must be—” Tao Lei’s attack was suddenly cut short. He awkwardly shut his mouth and turned back around.

“And what about my IQ? Run out of words, huh?” Yang Min thought Tao Lei had been defeated by her brilliant argument. She happily crossed her legs, ready to press her advantage, but the sound of a chair scraping against the floor behind her made her swallow her words instantly.

No way—there’s no acting cocky in front of the school bully…

Moreover, this school bully was so fond of sleeping in the classroom that if they disturbed his rest, they’d probably get beaten up.

Clearly, Yang Min wasn’t the only one with this thought.

The classroom, which had been as noisy as a marketplace earlier, quieted down significantly.

Completely oblivious to the situation, Qin Xiaoxiao finished organizing her new desk. She stretched her arms lazily, leaning her upper body slightly backward, only to unexpectedly bump into something behind her.

She turned her head to look back.

It was a delicate, beautiful hand hanging lazily downward. The hand was smooth, with slender fingers and no unnecessary lines, exuding a soft yet refined elegance.

Its owner had their eyes closed, with their side profile resting on their bent right arm, while the other hand—the one in question—was casually placed on the desk, extending beyond the edge and reaching into her space.

Surely, she couldn’t be blamed for accidentally bumping into his hand, right?

Qin Xiaoxiao noticed the faint flutter of his butterfly-like eyelashes and decisively turned back around without a word.

Ji Wenchen’s eyes opened a sliver, staring at the slightly slender back in front of him for several seconds before closing again.

His left hand, entirely oblivious and as if by right, maintained its intrusive position.

…

The classroom was pitch black. Ji Wenchen yawned and straightened up from the desk.

A faint layer of moonlight spilled in.

It didn’t take long for his eyes to adjust to the darkness.

Something suddenly bumped against his calf and foot—lightly, without pain. Ji Wenchen saw Qin Xiaoxiao standing by the desk, her hands raised, fumbling around in a flustered manner as if completely unable to see anything.

Then, his hand grasped her wrist, forcing her into an empty corner of the wall—a movement so swift it felt instantaneous, even he wasn’t fully aware of it.

She looked at him, her eyes in the darkness shimmering like water.

As if guided by some unseen force, he leaned in closer.

Their warm breaths intertwined.

Even though he could only make out the faint outline of her face, he instinctively knew where her lips were.

It was as if something there was beckoning him, tempting him…

“Ah Chen… the movie…” An irritating voice accompanied by a hand landing on his shoulder broke the moment. Ji Wenchen frowned and opened his eyes.

“Surprised to see me?” In the dim light, Jiang Zhousi failed to notice the impatience on Ji Wenchen’s face and threw an arm around his shoulder in a brotherly manner.

“Get lost.” Ji Wenchen shook off his hand, and anyone could hear the anger packed into that single word.

Jiang Zhousi plopped down on the empty chair next to Ji Wenchen. “What’s wrong, huh?”

Ah Chen’s temper when waking up was a bit intense, but he had never been this harsh with his buddies before… Jiang Zhousi, judging by his own standards, guessed, “Did I interrupt your spring dream… Hey! Hey, man!”

The next thing he knew, Jiang Zhousi—chair and all—was kicked a full meter away. Heartbroken and utterly dumbfounded, he thought: It was just a joke! Even if he guessed wrong, did Ah Chen really need to resort to kicking?

One of Jiang Zhousi’s notable traits was his thick skin. He quickly forgave his good buddy Ji Wenchen’s outburst of violence, dragging his chair back and sitting down again. “I heard your class was watching a movie this period, so I skipped self-study just to come find you.”

“What movie is it?” Jiang Zhousi squinted at the multimedia screen at the front of the classroom. “Caribbean? We’ve already seen that, huh.”

Ji Wenchen lowered his lashes, casually opened the can of Sprite Jiang Zhousi had brought, and absentmindedly took a sip.

“Should we go play some games? Nah, can’t—Old Luo’s doing rounds during the third period tonight… How about watching some short films? Come on, come on, I just saved a few new ones on my phone.”