Lin Bosheng was called to the office.

In fact, before calling him out, the homeroom teacher had subtly emphasized in class that Changning No. 2 High School would not tolerate any school violence or bullying of fellow students.

After saying those words, the teacher called Lin Bosheng out of the classroom.

It was obvious what that meant, no need to guess.

Lin Bosheng, when called to the office, was somewhat prepared, so when Teacher Feng asked if anyone in class was bullying him, Lin wasn’t surprised. He calmly shook his head.

This was an unspoken rule among students—any issues between classmates were to be handled privately; involving a teacher was akin to betrayal.

“No one.”

Teacher Feng didn’t seem convinced by Lin’s response. Softening his tone, he continued, “It’s alright, you don’t have to be afraid. Whatever it is, you can tell me, and I’ll make sure to stand up for you.”

Although Lin Bosheng was a bit of a loner and kept things to himself, he was a promising student with good grades and little trouble; Teacher Feng still kept an eye on him.

When Lin remained silent, Teacher Feng got tired of beating around the bush and directly brought up the rumors among students, eventually mentioning Liu Sizhen by name and even asking if Lin wanted his seat changed.

“Who told you this?”

Lin Bosheng, who had been looking down, suddenly raised his head. Instead of answering Feng’s question, he fired his own back at him. Not waiting for a response, he pressed, “Teacher Feng, who told you these things? Was it someone from our class?”

Besides being Lin’s homeroom teacher, Feng Hua also taught other classes, and, being busy with lesson plans, couldn’t possibly monitor everything happening in class. He hadn’t witnessed anything directly but had heard from several students about the situation, so it seemed unlikely to be untrue.

Feng Hua was also displeased with Lin’s questioning tone, as if accusing him of overstepping, and felt his authority was being challenged.

“Is this how you talk to your teacher? I’m concerned for you, but you act like I’m the problem.”

Adults generally prefer cheerful, obedient children. Lin was too quiet, and his intense stare made others uneasy, leading some to wonder if he had deeper issues.

“I’m sorry, Teacher Feng. I didn’t mean it that way.”

Lin quickly regained his usual demeanor, his gaze fixed on Feng’s teacup rather than on him. Yet his voice remained firm.

“Liu… Liu Sizhen hasn’t bullied me or done anything like what you said.”

Lin didn’t deny the actions of others in other classes, only stated that Liu hadn’t done those things. Meeting Feng’s questioning gaze, he continued.

“He… treats me well.”

After a pause, he added, “Really.”

—

Liu Sizhen was reprimanded again, this time for not wearing his uniform, though he didn’t seem fazed by it. “I lost my uniform,” he said casually, cutting off the teacher’s lecture and suggesting he could simply buy a new one. His laid-back tone made the teacher so furious that they slapped the textbook down.

Changning No. 2’s new uniforms weren’t much different from the old ones—still in the blue-and-white color scheme, just slightly darker, a shade close to navy blue.

When the teacher ordered him to leave the classroom, Liu strutted out at his own pace, which only made the teacher angrier. They muttered that he was bound to become a delinquent someday.

As he exited, though, Liu finally felt relieved. He’d been a model student before, never disrupting class, always listening attentively. But now, he had to act out openly, defying the teacher.

No one knew that as he left the room, he was actually terrified, his legs shaking and his heart pounding. While others saw him walking calmly, he’d nearly stumbled on his way out. His classmate, Lin Bosheng, even steadied him for a moment, though it wasn’t clear if it was intentional or not.

Standing alone in the hallway, Liu patted his chest in relief. All the students were focused on the board or doing their own thing, no one looking out the window.

Only one person noticed…

Inside, the teacher reviewed answers to the homework and highlighted common mistakes.

“This one’s practically a freebie! Who got it wrong? Raise your hand… I’ll go over it one more time!”

When the teacher finished, they encouraged students to check their answers with their seatmates, sipping from their thermos as they took a break.

Lin Bosheng glanced out the window a few times. Among his classmates, he was probably the only one who noticed all of Liu’s subtle actions: the nervousness when challenging the teacher, the sweating forehead, the way he clenched his shirt hem, and his jittery exit, though he pretended to be unfazed.

Lin couldn’t help but imagine Liu as a harmless bunny trying desperately to look like a fierce tiger… something that, by nature, wasn’t very convincing.

Lin’s seatmate caught sight of a neatly folded new uniform in Lin’s desk and thought it might be his, possibly hoping to use it as a conversation starter.

But Lin simply replied, “No need. I didn’t make any mistakes.”

Feeling brushed off, the girl, Xia Min, fell silent.

It was typical—her quiet seatmate rarely spoke to anyone in class. With so many students in Class 11, Lin might not even recognize them all.

Even as her seatmate, Xia Min hadn’t spoken to Lin much despite sitting next to him for quite some time. The most common words exchanged between them?

“Excuse me.”

At the beginning of the school year, the teacher held an assessment test to gauge the class’s general level, and Lin Bosheng scored first place.

After the scores were released, some classmates, drawn to this “top student,” would often approach him with questions, hoping to get closer to him.

But this top student showed no interest.

His responses were always the same: “I don’t have time, I’m busy.”

The teacher tried to appoint Lin as the class representative, hoping this would help him integrate with the group, but Lin declined, again saying he had no time.

Even during breaks, Lin never seemed to be resting. While others napped at lunch, Lin would be catching up on assignments. Especially on Fridays, when weekend assignments were given, he could often be seen completing homework even during other classes.

When a teacher suggested he finish it at home, he again replied that he didn’t have the time.

A high schooler could hardly be that busy—it was just an excuse. This aloofness, combined with some rumors circulating about him, left him even more isolated.

At the next seating arrangement, by chance, he ended up sitting beside her.

Even as desk mates, Xia Min didn’t really know him.

She often heard classmates mutter that he had a strange smell.

After hearing it enough times, she felt like she could smell it too.

With the pressures of high school, students treasured their little bits of free time. Everyone had their own friends, interests, and cliques. And so, Lin Bosheng became practically invisible in class.

Until the start of their second year…

Their class got a new transfer student.

—

The previous day had been overcast in Changning, but by noon on Wednesday, the sun finally came out. It was still chilly, but some students, full of youthful energy, had already taken off their jackets, filling the sports field with energy and sweat.

Liu Sizhen didn’t enjoy this kind of activity and had no interest in joining.

Though his seat wasn’t near the window, there was no one beside him, so he could see the blue sky, white clouds, and a tree he couldn’t identify.

A light breeze was blowing, and Liu Sizhen began wondering if he had been too harsh with his words. The day before, Lin Bosheng had returned a freshly washed uniform to him, and Liu, impulsively, had blurted that he didn’t want it since Lin had worn it.

Lin’s first reaction was to lift the uniform and sniff it.

That made Liu feel instantly guilty.

[… Maybe I was a bit too harsh. What should I do?]

Because of this, Liu didn’t prop his feet on Lin’s chair as he usually did that morning. He figured he should let Lin have a peaceful lesson—his previous behavior had been inappropriate.

But when class ended, Lin looked back at him a few times as if questioning something. After hesitating a few times, he couldn’t help but ask, “Why didn’t you…”

“Didn’t what?” Liu replied.

Lin fell silent again, leaving Liu with no idea of what he’d meant all day.

The second period in the afternoon was gym class, a rare treat since last week’s session had been canceled. When everyone assumed they’d be doing another subject or studying independently, the gym teacher arrived and took them outside.

Amid the cheers, Lin Bosheng stood out as he slowly trailed at the back of the group.

For class, they needed to pair up for sit-ups, with one partner holding the other’s legs down while counting reps.

Students usually paired up on their own, with those who were closer glancing at each other to form teams. Those left over would then pair up, or the teacher would assign partners.

This kind of activity made everyone’s social circle clear.

Sure enough, Liu watched as Lin ended up without a partner.

People around him laughed and talked, while he stood alone like a lonely island surrounded by the vast sea.

Liu remembered facing the same situation at his previous school. He used to dread free-pairing exercises because everyone had their own close friends, and he would always be left out.

It felt like being a rejected item on a supermarket shelf, left over after others had chosen. No matter how much he told himself it was nothing, he could still feel those looks around him.

The gym teacher blew his whistle, urging everyone to hurry up. Lin, without looking at anyone else, fixed his gaze on Liu and walked over.

It was the first time Liu had ever seen Lin smile. It was faint, but it was clear he was in a good mood. Lin asked,

“Do you want to pair up?”

It was Lin’s first time approaching anyone, and he felt a bit nervous. People assumed Lin would be turned down, given how Liu usually seemed to dislike him, but somehow, there was also a feeling he might not be.

And Liu… agreed.

“Well, I guess I’ll… reluctantly accept?”

Sit-ups required one person to hold down the other’s legs, but Liu barely applied any pressure; Lin’s movements were standard and precise. There was a hint of competitive spirit in him, and his performance was impeccable.

They were an odd pair.

They didn’t look like they’d go together, but standing side by side, they felt strangely harmonious.