It was noon, and the sunlight was bright and blinding. Chu Tao, squinting against the light, looked up at the roof of the teaching building. After a while, his eyes began to sting, and he saw a kaleidoscope of colors, like pieces of a tangram, appearing before his eyes.

He tightly shut his eyes, squeezing out a few tears, and the visual distortions caused by the sunlight gradually dissipated.

The retractable gate at the school entrance was no challenge for Chu Tao and Jiang She. Chu Tao propped himself up with his arm, stepping on a support point, and easily vaulted over. Jiang She quickly followed, jumping over as well.

Chu Tao brushed the dust off his hands and lifted his leg to run toward the teaching building.

Jiang She casually asked, “Who’s that person?”

Chu Tao pressed his lips together, furrowing his brow. “I’m not sure, I just think I recognize them!”

The school gate was several hundred meters from the teaching building. The road was flat and unobstructed, and Chu Tao could see the security guard quickly entering the building.

Outside the building, the sunlight blazed down ruthlessly from above, while inside, there was a stark contrast, a quiet and vast darkness separated by only a thin line.

The entrance to the building loomed like a giant, bloodthirsty mouth, arrogantly towering in the sunlight. The security guard who had just rushed inside had already vanished.

Chu Tao stood at the door for a moment, dazed, before rushing up the stairs without hesitation.

The main teaching building had seven floors: the first five were classrooms, the sixth had various meeting rooms, auditoriums, and teacher activity rooms, while the seventh floor was a mysterious place, blocked by a rusty iron fence. Through the gaps in the fence, one could glimpse the faint glow of glass windows inside.

It was said that the seventh floor used to be a student laboratory for chemistry and physics experiments. However, as competition between schools in Huainan grew more intense, the experimental lessons gradually turned into demonstrations by the teachers, with students merely watching.

It saved both time and medication, and since then, the seventh floor had never been opened again.

The official explanation was probably correct, but rumors in the school always liked to turn dark, mysterious places into legends.

Somewhere along the way, rumors began circulating that someone had died on the seventh floor and turned into a ghost. They said every night, you could hear the ghostly wails from the iron gate. If anyone dared to sneak through the iron bars, they would be cursed and, like in the horror movie The Ghost of the Pen, jump off the rooftop of the teaching building.

Additionally, the walls on the seventh floor, never painted, still had traces of old students’ doodles. Most of these marks were strange and unrecognizable, resembling ghostly symbols, which became “proof” of the campus legend.

But in reality, the cleaning staff frequently passed through the seventh floor, walking up a small set of stairs to the rooftop and casually tossing out broken mops and brooms.

None of the cleaning staff had ever been possessed by any ghost, and the rumors were just that—rumors.

The iron gate’s lock had rusted over the years, and the school never bothered to replace it. The gate remained hanging there, and in fact, it could easily be pushed open with a hand.

Just as Chu Tao was about to push the door open, the school broadcast system suddenly came on.

“Students on the rooftop, please return to your classes immediately. The wind is strong, please pay attention to your safety.”

“That student, please return to your class immediately and do not violate school rules.”

“Again, please return to your class immediately!”

The security guard spoke with a slight dialect accent and didn’t pay attention to the microphone, causing the broadcast to sputter and echo, which made it irritating to listen to. The sound was grating and unsettling, almost like a catalyst for emotions.

Chu Tao was speechless. He had never seen anyone who was about to jump being persuaded by school rules. The security guard clearly had no experience and didn’t want to take responsibility.

The guard likely thought that by announcing on the intercom, everyone in the school would hear it and he had done his part, leaving whatever happened next as someone else’s problem.

The person on the rooftop, if Chu Tao wasn’t mistaken, was Shen Hongfang, the son of Tang Lingmei.

Since Song Mian and Tang Lingmei had a good relationship, Chu Tao was also familiar with Shen Hongfang, though they weren’t really friends.

Tang Lingmei was very talkative and loved to endlessly boast about her husband and son, which made Chu Tao want to keep a distance from her family, so he wasn’t keen on getting close to Shen Hongfang.

In contrast to Tang Lingmei’s loud voice, Shen Hongfang was much quieter. After all, his mother did most of the talking for him, so he didn’t need to say much.

In Chu Tao’s impression, Shen Hongfang was like him—someone who worked hard at their studies and was taciturn.

Chu Tao grabbed the iron bars and felt a bit of rust on his palms. Rubbing it lightly, he could still feel a slight discomfort, like gritty sand.

With big strides, he climbed up the small stairs and pushed open the sluggish iron door to the rooftop. The warm wind stirred up dust, creating a hazy white fog in front of him.

Chu Tao couldn’t help but cough twice, fighting the dust as he leaped onto the rooftop.

He stepped on a piece of scrap steel rebar that had somehow ended up at the door, which scraped loudly and painfully against the ground.

“Shen Hongfang!”

The person standing at the edge of the rooftop looked at Chu Tao for a moment. His expression shifted slightly, but he didn’t respond or move.

He was just one step away from crossing the low railing, like a kite caught in the wind, ready to fall to the ground below.

He was still wearing the Huainan No.1 High School uniform. The oversized uniform flapped in the wind, puffing up like an inflated bag, pulling him towards the abyss.

Chu Tao was panting heavily, cold sweat forming on his back. He didn’t dare move forward but cautiously raised his hand, signaling gently, “Shen Hongfang, come back.”

Shen Hongfang tilted his head slightly, his gaze briefly shifting past Chu Tao to Jiang She behind him.

Everyone knew that Chu Tao was in conflict with Jiang She from Class 3. In fact, some had even seen Jiang She push Chu Tao onto the basketball court to fight.

The two of them couldn’t stand each other, and Chu Tao had been living a rough time in Class 3.

But now, on a Saturday afternoon, Jiang She had come to school with Chu Tao and was on the rooftop, facing him.

This situation was so dramatic that Shen Hongfang was unusually intrigued.

He swayed a bit, his expression dazed, and muttered, “Chu Tao, you came to study too?”

His voice was soft, and the wind carried most of it away, leaving only broken fragments of words reaching Chu Tao’s ears.

Chu Tao swallowed nervously, unsure of what to say. He was afraid that even a single wrong word would push Shen Hongfang over the edge.

Shen Hongfang didn’t wait for an answer and laughed self-mockingly. “No wonder your grades have improved so much. You’re really working hard. I guess I haven’t worked hard enough.”

He said this, and in a daze, took a step forward.

Standing at the height of the seventh floor, looking down at the ground, there was already a feeling of dizziness as if on the brink of death. But Shen Hongfang didn’t seem scared at all. He lowered his head, staring at the black locust tree blooming in front of the teaching building, its snow-white flowers swaying in the wind.

“Shen Hongfang! Don’t you think of Aunt Tang?”

Chu Tao clenched his fists, his knuckles turning white as he crushed the particles in his palm. A white whirlwind seemed to stir up again between him and Shen Hongfang.

When Shen Hongfang heard Chu Tao mention Tang Lingmei, his shoulder twitched slightly, and his fingers trembled with stiffness. But Tang Lingmei didn’t stop him from making this reckless move.

A twisted smile that looked more painful than crying spread across his face. “I’m thinking about her, every moment, every second,” he said.

Chu Tao felt like his throat was stuffed with cotton, dry and heavy, and he couldn’t say a word.

Jiang She gently patted Chu Tao’s back in a reassuring way, his tone calm as he said, “Right now, he only wants to punish his mother. You mention her name, and he might actually feel a sense of relief. After all, if he jumps, he won’t know anything anymore, but just before hitting the ground, in his mind, he’ll see his mother’s breakdown when she sees his body—her insane reaction. If he thinks about it just a little, he’ll feel it’s worth it, that he’s avenged the person he hates most in this world.”

Chu Tao’s gaze flickered, and he turned his head, whispering, “Jiang She.”

Suddenly, Shen Hongfang turned to Jiang She angrily, shouting, “What the hell do you know?! Don’t think I don’t know you! A rich second-generation like you, who has everything handed to you, with all the teachers flattering you, never having to worry about grades or your future—what right do you have to lecture me?”

Perhaps it was rare for him to speak so much at once, but Shen Hongfang’s eyes were bloodshot, his chest rising and falling violently. His breath was cut off by sobs, and his voice sounded like a shattered drum, letting out a final sound before it collapsed.

Jiang She chuckled lightly, his gaze cooling, and he spoke nonchalantly, “So you’re angry that she didn’t make you a rich second-generation? That’s a pretty reasonable hatred, isn’t it?”

Shen Hongfang looked at Jiang She with anger and a frenzy of not being understood.

His facial muscles were stiff, his fingers gripping his pants tightly, digging into the fabric. “I don’t want to argue with you. You don’t understand my world, nor Chu Tao’s. We’ve always been compared, criticized, treated like trophies to be shown off, and ignored when it comes to our inner needs. That life has been with us our entire lives.”

“From birth, it’s endless, relentless.”

“Chu Tao, you shouldn’t be here trying to persuade me. You should understand me. From childhood to now, you’ve always been Chu Xingning’s shadow, a sidekick, a replacement. Chu Xingning is the pride of the world, the one everyone praises, and you, at best, get a passing compliment. Do you know that even when my mom mentions you in front of me, she only calls you ‘Chu Xingning’s brother,’ never by your name?”

“She says it to remind me that if you’re not the best, you’re never worthy of being noticed. Even if your grades are good and you’re good-looking, compared to Chu Xingning, you’ll always fade into the background.”

“But recently, that’s changed. She’s started calling you by your name. You’ve become excellent, ranking twentieth in the grade twice, and now she’s noticing you. Meanwhile, I’ve been completely left behind by both of you, and I have no value anymore.”