After the ice pack, Jiang She wanted to apply some bruise-relieving ointment to Chu Tao, but Chu Tao stopped him.

The ointment had a strong smell, and if he applied it, the whole room would reek of it. If he went home smelling like that, Song Mian would definitely notice, and he wouldn’t be able to hide that he’d been in a fight.

Jiang She seemed rather disappointed.

He had just discovered his calling to “save lives and help the injured,” but his efforts were snuffed out before they could even begin.

“Come on, give me a chance; I want to be a good person,” Jiang She joked, pretending to plead.

Chu Tao didn’t feel like entertaining his nonsense and grabbed his clothes, ready to put them on. “Your neighbor’s trash is still waiting for you to take out.”

Jiang She, still fooling around, replied, “Hold on, what’s the rush?”

He pretended to block Chu Tao, casually pulling him into an embrace. With his height and long arms, he could easily hold Chu Tao close.

But he didn’t push too far, instead gently and tentatively encircling Chu Tao for a moment.

“Stop messing around, Jiang She!” Chu Tao ducked, dodging Jiang She’s arms, and quickly pulled his shirt over his head, not giving Jiang She a second.

For the first time in his life, he dressed so quickly, he could almost set a world record.

“Tch.”

Jiang She sighed.

Chu Tao sniffed, noticing that the scent of the suppressant on him had faded a bit—probably wiped off with the ice towel.

He held his hand out toward Jiang She. “Mind lending me your suppressant again?”

Jiang She tossed him the bottle of hyacinth and white musk-scented suppressant.

“This one’s really strong; it affects your pores’ ability to breathe. Why are you spraying so much?”

Chu Tao lied, “It smells good.”

In reality, he needed something strong—only a powerful suppressant could block his gland’s reaction to Jiang She.

Jiang She offered, “If you like it, I’ll give you a bottle.”

Chu Tao declined, “No need. I have some at home.”

Jiang She insisted, “Why so polite with me?”

Chu Tao threw on his school jacket, glancing at the small tear in it. “Alright, I need to head back.”

He picked up his phone and realized it was dead.

He hadn’t been paying attention to the battery, so it must have shut off while Jiang She was applying the ice pack.

Now he had no way of knowing if Chu Xingning had replied or made it home safely.

Chu Tao felt a bit unsettled.

“I’ll walk you back,” Jiang She offered, following him to the door.

Chu Tao stopped and gave him a look. “No need, I need to swing by at school to grab my bag first.”

He still had homework to finish and needed his textbooks.

Jiang She shrugged, as if it were obvious. “I need to pick up my bag too.”

Chu Tao raised an eyebrow, looking skeptical. “What do you need your bag for?”

“Got homework to finish,” Jiang She said shamelessly, entirely unembarrassed.

Chu Tao retorted, “Doesn’t it embarrass you to say that?”

“Tch.” Jiang She reached out and tugged Chu Tao’s collar, lecturing him. “You’ve gotten pretty bold, haven’t you? You know who you’re talking to, right?”

Chu Tao rolled his eyes, ignoring the way his collar was being tugged, and dragged Jiang She toward the door to put on his shoes.

The neighborhood was as quiet as usual, though the night air felt clearer somehow—maybe because his mood had lightened.

Chu Tao glanced at the time; it was nearly nine. If they didn’t hurry, even the seniors would be getting out of evening study soon.

He couldn’t waste any more time, so he picked up the pace toward the school.

With his long legs, Jiang She took big strides, moving ahead of him, and kept goading him.

“Hurry up, hero of Class Three.”

Chu Tao jogged a few steps to catch up, but as soon as he did, Jiang She sped up again. Not one to back down, Chu Tao picked up the pace, chasing after him.

The two raced back to school like maniacs, each clutching a pillar, gasping for breath when they finally stopped.

Chu Tao caught his breath, clutching his ribs.

“Jerk! I’m injured, remember?”

The pain that had subsided started flaring up again after the sprint. Chu Tao gritted his teeth and rubbed his ribs with his palm.

Jiang She moved closer, looking slightly guilty. “Let me check.”

He reached out as if to touch Chu Tao’s chest, which startled him, and he quickly dodged away.

This was the school, and even though it was after hours, the security cameras were still on.

The school strictly monitored students’ interactions, and being too close could even lead to expulsion.

For Young Master Jiang, there were no such worries, but for Chu Tao, it was different.

However, Chu Tao didn’t notice that the pillars they were leaning against were right in front of the tiered classroom.

These pillars were rumored to be a “dating hotspot”—Omegas from the east side and Alphas from the west often met here. The front of the pillars was monitored, but the back was a convenient blind spot, perfect for couples looking to get a bit closer.

Chu Tao had no intentions of getting too close to Jiang She, so they both stood openly on the front side of the pillars.

But as they playfully nudged and pushed each other, Chu Tao vaguely heard some girls squealing in excitement.

“Ahhh, are they about to mark each other?”

“The shy one doesn’t seem too willing, but the other one’s hands aren’t behaving!”

“I love a little forced romance! Hurry up already!”

“He’s touching his waist! It’s like a kitten being pinned by a tiger!”

Chu Tao: “…”

Girls, you can fangirl, but maybe don’t do it where we can hear.

Embarrassed, Chu Tao raised his collar to cover his face, pushed Jiang She away, and bolted upstairs.

Jiang She stumbled a bit but wasn’t upset. He shrugged and took long strides to catch up.

“Ahhhh, the shy one’s blushing!”

“Who are they? Their heights match perfectly, but I couldn’t see clearly from this distance.”

“Maybe they’re from one of the senior classes? Getting desperate before exams.”

“Exactly! If they’re this touchy before exams, imagine how crazy they’ll be after!”

“Spill the details, sister!”

With his face flushed, Chu Tao climbed two flights of stairs before he could no longer hear the girls’ daydreaming.

Holding his ribs, he walked quickly toward his classroom.

The lights in most of the second-year classrooms were already off, and Chu Xingning’s classroom was dark as well.

When he reached Class Three, Chu Tao flipped on the light and saw the room was empty.

He went to his seat, folded up his worksheets, gathered his reference books, and shoved them into his bag.

Then he looked over at Jiang She. “Weren’t you going to take your homework too?”

Jiang She hadn’t moved, leaning on Chu Tao’s desk and fiddling with his thermos.

“Nope, just here to walk you home.”

Chu Tao frowned. “I’m biking home. Why would I need you to walk me?”

Jiang She raised an eyebrow. “You think you can bike in that state?”

His shoulder and ribs did hurt, but not so much that he couldn’t handle biking.

“I’m not that delicate,” Chu Tao muttered.

Jiang She scoffed, “You’re so used to taking hits, you wouldn’t even take a chance to be delicate?”

Chu Tao froze for a moment.

He was indeed just as he said—not the least bit delicate, because that’s how his parents had raised him. They always told him that boys should be tough.

But he’d never really thought about it; being delicate wasn’t a crime—some people were, and some weren’t.

Jiang She said, “Today’s fight should’ve been mine. Since you took it for me, there’s no harm in me giving you a ride home.”

Chu Tao’s bike did have a back seat. His family had bought two mountain bikes, one for him and one for Chu Xingning, each fitted with a rear seat so they could all go out riding together.

Jiang She grabbed Chu Tao’s bag, slung it over his shoulder, and walked to the blackboard, pausing for a moment.

The board still listed all the homework left by the teachers in various subjects, which the class monitor would erase the next morning.

Feeling inspired, Jiang She jumped onto the platform, grabbed a piece of chalk, and quickly scrawled in the middle of the board:

“I love you, Class Monitor.”

To keep Chu Tao from rushing up to stop him, he wrote it fast and pressed hard with the chalk.

Chalk dust scattered down, some landing on the dry floor, while some drifted into the cool air.

Jiang She’s handwriting was bold and lively, with a certain flair, but it was clear enough to see exactly what he had written.

Chu Tao, realizing what was happening, flushed red to the tips of his ears.

He stormed onto the platform, gritting his teeth. “Jiang She, you—!”

Snatching up the blackboard eraser, he pushed Jiang She aside, ready to wipe away those words.

But Jiang She blocked him, reaching out quickly to stop him.

In their struggle over the blackboard eraser, they sent up little clouds of white dust.

Chu Tao coughed twice and finally seized his moment, pressing the eraser hard against the board and erasing most of the writing.

Jiang She grabbed another piece of chalk, intending to rewrite it, but Chu Tao, determined to keep him from doing so, smacked the eraser hard against the board, sending out even more chalk dust and forcing Jiang She to back away.

With the classroom empty, the two of them played around on the platform, covering each other in chalk dust.

Chu Tao’s hair was speckled with chalk dust; under the light, it looked almost like he had gone gray.

After messing around for a while, Chu Tao finally managed to erase the words from the board.

Leaning against the podium, he kept a close eye on Jiang She, wary of him grabbing another piece of chalk to write something else.

Jiang She didn’t look much better, with chalk dust all over his school uniform, his sleeves and the backs of his hands covered in white. He’d probably inhaled quite a bit too.

With one hand on the board, Jiang She smirked and teased, “Are you that afraid someone will see?”

Chu Tao, hearing that, gave the board an extra couple of swipes with the eraser. “No one’s seeing anything now.”

The area where Jiang She had written was now spotless, cleaner than if it had been licked; there was no trace left.

Jiang She’s smirk didn’t fully fade as he tossed the half-used chalk piece into the tray with a lazy, somewhat serious look. “As long as you remember what I wrote.”

The chalk arced through the air in a neat parabola, landing perfectly in the chalk tray.

Chu Tao’s grip loosened, and the blackboard eraser slipped from his hand, tumbling awkwardly onto the floor.