The student cafeteria at No.2 High was crowded, with no take-out options. The only cafeteria where it wasn’t as crowded, where food was abundant and take-out was allowed, was the staff cafeteria. Lin Bosheng didn’t have a staff meal card, but Liu Sizhen did.

Rumor had it that a school leader was a relative of his.

Along with a serving of ribs and rice, Liu Sizhen asked Lin Bosheng to buy him lots of snacks—beef jerky, fish slices, chocolate, chips, and more. Some of these weren’t even available at the school store, so Lin Bosheng had to go off-campus to get them. Luckily, as a day student, he could leave more easily than the boarders.

Liu Sizhen’s list was long… far more food than one person could eat.

Due to the busyness at the store, Lin Bosheng returned a bit late, and as expected, Liu Sizhen was upset, complaining that he couldn’t even handle a simple task.

A few classmates who had come back to the classroom for their things weren’t surprised. Everyone knew Liu Sizhen’s tendency to ask for things, and then if they took even a moment too long, he’d respond rudely. Anyone else would have long refused.

But Lin Bosheng said nothing. Silently, he tidied up Liu Sizhen’s messy desk, arranged his textbooks, smoothed out crumpled worksheets, opened the meal container, and even broke apart the chopsticks, placing them neatly to the side.

The actions flowed smoothly, as if it were a routine.

Neither of them seemed to think anything was amiss.

Liu Sizhen, however, was a picky eater. He barely glanced at his pork rib and potato rice before dismissing it, saying it looked unappetizing. “This is awful. You can have it,” he said.

A classmate retrieving their lunch card saw this and shook their head; clearly, Liu Sizhen was just humiliating him. Yet, Lin Bosheng accepted the meal and began eating it without complaint, even as Liu Sizhen snacked on various treats.

The snacks went much the same way: he’d take a bite, say he didn’t like it, and pass it to Lin Bosheng, treating him as though he were a trash bin.

Occasionally, Lin Bosheng would say something, not in anger or rejection, but with… concern?

“It’s not good to skip a meal; you should eat more of this,” he’d say, or “You haven’t eaten much; you’ll need energy for PE this afternoon.”

He sounded like a worried parent.

Anyone overhearing them would think they were hearing things. The two… seemed strange together.

---

Even though Liu Sizhen was rude and temperamental, nobody wanted to be his desk partner, despite his good looks. But he didn’t mind, enjoying the extra space.

His seat was directly behind the male lead, Lin Bosheng. From his view, Lin Bosheng always sat up straight, focused intensely on the teacher, occasionally jotting down notes.

According to his role, Liu Sizhen would occasionally kick the back of his chair.

But Lin Bosheng didn’t react at all…

Sigh… it couldn’t be easy.

The logic of this little world often didn’t make sense to him.

They were in high school, after all. Who had time to bully others? When he was in high school, he even ran to the restroom so as not to waste time, his dreams were full of test questions…

When he mentioned this to the system, it replied:

[No need to overthink it; many things lack logic. After all, this world is artificial.]

[…right.]

Yes, this world was fictional, and so were the people in it. Remembering this, Liu Sizhen felt slightly less guilty about what he had to do.

He’d never imagined himself bullying anyone.

After all, once… he’d been briefly bullied too. So in doing these things, he felt deeply guilty.

Although the academic load in sophomore year wasn’t as heavy as junior year, the pace was noticeably faster than freshman year, with monthly exams becoming a routine.

However, this had little to do with Liu Sizhen. Even though he knew all the correct answers to the exam questions and had always been a top student in his original world, in this world, he remained an underachiever. During exams, he’d glance through the test, mentally answering each question, but still handed in a blank sheet, with only his name written on it.

Turning it in made Liu Sizhen nervous. He was used to being a top student and receiving approving looks from teachers. Now, being met with disappointment and indifference felt unsettling, though he kept his expression neutral.

The homeroom teacher and subject teachers in Class 11 seemed to have given up on Liu Sizhen. They didn’t bother advising him to study; if he slept in class, they simply ignored it. Their only hope was that he wouldn’t cause trouble.

This had led to an odd, elevated status in the class for Liu Sizhen, who, as a new transfer student, was given a lot of freedom. His classmates didn’t fully understand the teachers’ hands-off approach and saw it as permission to leave him alone. If even the teachers didn’t care, what could they do?

Adding to this, Liu Sizhen was generous and spent lavishly, often treating others to meals and hanging out with so-called “leaders” from other classes and even some local troublemakers, finding enjoyment in intimidating diligent students. As a result, most classmates preferred to keep their distance from him.

Liu Sizhen himself was content with this situation. It suited his purpose. He could complete his tasks and leave smoothly.

If people tried talking to him or being friendly, he’d be at a loss, unsure of what to say or how to act. Without a script, improvising was exhausting.

---

“Homework? Oh, just tell them I didn’t do it,” Liu Sizhen said to the class representative who had come to collect assignments, shrugging dismissively. He noticed a few classmates watching from across the room, curious. “They sent you, didn’t they?”

Even though they knew Liu Sizhen would never submit homework—he didn’t even know what the assignments were, often sleeping or skipping class—they still seemed to hold hope.

“…No, they didn’t.”

The girl in thick-framed glasses, with bangs nearly covering her eyes, spoke in a soft, trembling voice, unable to look Liu Sizhen in the eye. She denied it, but her expression said otherwise.

“Oh… don’t worry about it,” Liu Sizhen replied. But as he noticed the male lead glancing in their direction, his previously calm voice turned sharp.

“Can’t you see I’m trying to sleep? So annoying.”

[System, did the male lead see that?]

He felt he understood this character well—after all, he was supposed to be the antagonist, a mere plot device to motivate the male lead’s growth.

While he had to follow the script and publicly belittle the male lead, he found small ways to work around it. For instance, he could still make Lin Bosheng run errands and treat him like a lackey, occasionally bullying him, as the script required. But he also left “leftovers” for Lin Bosheng, food he couldn’t finish or didn’t like, subtly offering it to him.

He had noticed that the script mentioned Lin Bosheng developed severe stomach problems as an adult due to hunger during his school years. Liu Sizhen wanted to help him directly, but he had to stick to his role, so this was his way of providing support without breaking character.

Since the script didn’t specify that he had to bully other classmates, he chose to avoid it when possible. With his real personality, he would never do anything too cruel, so he minimized unnecessary conflict.

To others, this led to a perception that the transfer student with a family background specifically held a grudge against Lin Bosheng, targeting only him as if they had some kind of personal vendetta.

If Liu Sizhen could hear other people’s opinions about the relationship between him and the male lead, and if he were able to respond, he would definitely deny such claims.

There was no personal grudge at all; it was just for the sake of the mission.

He had to maintain his character in front of key plot figures, follow each of the story’s milestones to help the protagonist grow, and then leave at the right time when the story’s arc was completed.

As for the task of “warming the heart,” it was technically about fulfilling the male lead’s wish, and that wish was… very simple for Liu Sizhen, at least much simpler than bullying the male lead.

On the surface, it seemed like he was sleeping, but in reality, he was paying attention to the lesson.

[Actually, there’s no need to be so serious…]

In his original world, Liu Sizhen had always been the model student in the eyes of his teachers. He would never openly sleep in class. Even now, though he rested his head on the desk, he didn’t dare truly sleep—his ears were still listening to the teacher’s lecture.

[Oh, so they’ve reached this point in the lesson…]

The school day at Changning No. 2 High School wasn’t the latest in the city, but from Monday to Friday, the last class ended at 8:00 PM, sometimes going until 8:30 PM if the teacher was reviewing test papers.

Outside, dusk had fallen, and as time ticked by, with the bell approaching, the occasional murmur of students talking grew louder, despite the teacher still being at the front.

“Quiet down—!! Everyone is so good at talking, why don’t you come up here and speak? I’m done, come on, come up!”

Silence followed.

---

While other students were eager for the break to relax and have fun, Lin Bosheng didn’t have that luxury.

The moment class ended, he had to rush to help at a late-night food stall run by distant relatives. That time of night was the peak dining period, so it was the busiest. Since the business was small, the pay wasn’t great either.

Lin Bosheng could only help for two to three hours, earning thirty yuan a day. Occasionally, they would let him take leftover ingredients or unfinished snacks from customers.

He’d work until about 11:30 PM, or sometimes midnight, and after a quick wash, he would finally go to bed, but it was already past midnight.

He wouldn’t sleep long, because he had to wake up at 5 AM.

By then, he might see the middle-aged man, his biological father, drunk and sprawled on the floor. The living room would likely be a mess, with vomit, liquor bottles, and cigarette butts everywhere.

Lin Bosheng would clean up the mess as best as he could, taking no more than 20 minutes to tidy up the place. In the past, he would even make breakfast for that man, but after a while, he stopped caring.

It didn’t matter anymore; he just wished the man would die outside.

At 6:20 AM, he would start his morning exercises, followed by morning reading at 6:40 AM, and official classes would begin at 7:00 AM.

Lin Bosheng’s home wasn’t far from the school, so he was usually one of the first to arrive.

In the past, to save money, he wouldn’t eat breakfast and would go to class hungry, often enduring stomach pains from hunger.

But it didn’t matter—he eventually got used to the pain.