Ji Mianmian scored full marks on her biology final exam.
Returning home, she saw Jiang Yu’an watching TV on the sofa. She stood there for a moment before saying, “Thank you.”
Without even turning his head, he asked, “For what?”
“That biology book.”
“Oh.” He changed the channel. “Don’t just say it with words. You should treat me to a meal.”
Mianmian: …Fine.
Mianmian treated Jiang Yu’an to a meal at a small noodle shop near the school.
She ordered two bowls of beef noodles, totaling thirty-two yuan. When paying, she reluctantly counted the money over and over, making sure she hadn’t given too much.
Watching her actions, Jiang Yu’an suddenly felt a pang of sadness and spoke much less than usual.
When the noodles arrived, he took a couple of bites and said, “These aren’t very good. Next time, I’ll treat you to Xin Rong Ji.”
Mianmian looked up. “No need. Just lend me a few more of your original foreign-language textbooks.”
“I said I’m treating, so I’m treating.” He lowered his head to eat his noodles. “Don’t argue, little girl. This time it’s my fault. I forgot you don’t have money. After treating me to this meal, you won’t have to go hungry for a week, will you? I don’t want to be some evil Japanese person.”
He exaggeratedly sighed, “Poor people’s money shouldn’t be spent!”
Mianmian lowered her head. She realized this peacock had a sharp tongue but a soft heart.
Jiang Yu’an couldn’t help but reach out and ruffle her hair.
At the next table sat two of Mianmian’s female classmates. They looked at Jiang Yu’an, then at Mianmian, their eyes wide with shock.
The next day, the whole class was buzzing: “Ji Mianmian has a boyfriend! Super handsome! He looks very mature—he’s a college student!”
Jin Man rushed over to ask her, “Is it true? Are you dating someone? Who is it? Is it that Jiang…”
Mianmian covered her mouth. “No! I treated him to a meal because he lent me a book!”
Jin Man wore an expression that said, “Who are you trying to fool?”
That evening, Mianmian ran into Jiang Yu’an at the entrance. She glared at him.
He was baffled. “What’s wrong?”
“You got me misunderstood.”
“Misunderstood about what?”
“Misunderstood that you’re my boyfriend.”
Jiang Yu’an paused for a moment, then laughed.
He laughed in an especially punchable way.
“Then they really have no idea. Do you know how many beauties at F University are chasing after me, begging to be my girlfriend? How blind would I have to be to take a liking to a little yellow-haired girl like you?”
Mianmian: “…Senior, could you have some shame?”
During the second semester of her first year of high school, Mianmian’s school organized a visit to F University, one of the city’s top 985 universities.
She hadn’t told him in advance, but when the tour reached the medical school, she saw a familiar figure emerging from the teaching building.
White shirt, tall and slender, with a laptop tucked under his arm—it was Jiang Yu’an.
He saw her too. He paused for a moment, then smiled.
“Oh, little girl, did you come to F University to worship me? Did you see how dashing I looked just now teaching undergraduates?”
The group leader asked, “Dr. Jiang, do you know this student of ours?”
He nodded. “Yes, she’s been staying at my place for several years.”
The entire class turned to look at Mianmian in unison.
Mianmian’s face flushed red.
He walked over and said to the group leader, “Is it okay if I show her around? I promise to return her to you safe and sound in a bit.”
The teacher nodded. “Of course, no problem.”
He led her through the corridors of the medical school, where the walls were covered with anatomical diagrams. She was fascinated, and he pointed at the diagrams as he explained.
“This is the coronary artery, this is the mitral valve…”
Listening, she suddenly asked, “Aren’t you afraid, looking at these every day?”
He smiled. “I was a bit scared the first time. But later I realized it was all to save lives. Once you get used to it, you’re not afraid anymore.”
She looked at him and suddenly felt that his serious demeanor was different from his usual self.
After finishing the tour, he walked her back. Before parting, he said, “Once you get into F University in the future, I’ll look out for you.”
She looked up at him. “Why would I need you to look out for me?”
He grinned. “Because you’re too nice-tempered. Without someone watching your back, you’d get bullied.”
She pouted. “I can take care of myself. I don’t need anyone looking out for me.”
He reached out and ruffled her hair again. “I know, I know. But I just want to look out for you, okay?”
She looked up and noticed that when he was serious, his eyes were very bright.
In her second year of high school, Mianmian participated in a physics competition and teamed up with a boy from the neighboring class.
The boy was named Wu Qian. He had excellent grades, wore black-framed glasses, and was gentle and refined. Every day after school, he would study with Mianmian.
Once, when Jiang Yu’an returned home, he saw Wu Qian discussing problems with Mianmian in the living room.
He stood at the doorway and watched for a while.
Then he walked over, sat down nearby, and flipped through a magazine.
Deliberately making loud rustling sounds.
Mianmian looked up at him. “What are you doing?”
He didn’t even lift his head. “Can’t you see? Asking the obvious. I’m reading.”
“Why are you flipping the pages so loudly?”
“Sorry, but that’s just how I am.”
Wu Qian whispered, “Mianmian, who is this…?”
Mianmian replied, “He’s staying at my place. Don’t mind him.”
Wu Qian nodded and continued explaining the problem.
Jiang Yu’an flipped the magazine even louder.
After Wu Qian left, Mianmian asked him at the dining table, “Senior, what was up with you today?”
He shrugged. “Nothing. I just thought that boy’s problem-solving skills were mediocre.”
“Not as good as yours, right?”
“Obviously.”
Mianmian sighed helplessly. “Can’t you be a little more humble? This competition is only for high school students. No matter how good you are, you can’t team up with me for the exam.”
He smirked. “Hmph, my biggest flaw is that I never learned how to be humble.”
Mianmian entered her third year of high school, preparing for the college entrance exam. Jiang Yu’an was in his second year of his Ph.D.
Every night, when Jiang Yu’an returned from the lab, he would deliberately pass by her study desk to check on her.
“Seriously? My mom assigned you this test paper? I didn’t even bother with it back in my day.”
“Your solution to this problem is too clumsy. Let me show you a faster way.”
“If you write your English essay like this, you’ll get twenty points at most. Let me teach you some advanced sentence structures—guaranteed to get you twenty-four.”
At first, Mianmian was annoyed. “Senior, I have my own study plan. Can you stop bothering me?”
He spread his hands. “Teacher Zhao asked me to tutor you. Do you think I want to? Do you know how busy a Ph.D. student is?”
But Mianmian noticed that every time he explained something, it was exactly where she was stuck.
It was like a higher-dimensional strike.
She didn’t know how he figured it out.
Until one day, she discovered that her mistake notebook had been flipped through. Next to every wrong answer, there were red pen notes with problem-solving ideas.
The handwriting was Jiang Yu’an’s.
That night, she left a box of his favorite chocolates on his desk.
When he returned and saw it, he was taken aback.
She walked past him expressionlessly. “A thank-you gift. Don’t overthink it.”
He watched her back and chuckled.
As the end of the semester approached, the school held a unified coming-of-age ceremony for third-year students, inviting parents to attend.
Her mother, Ji Lixiang, couldn’t make it back, so Teacher Zhao and Uncle Jiang attended instead.
As an outstanding student’s parent representative, Teacher Zhao took the stage to share her parenting insights with immense pride, feeling that the little girl was much more adorable than her own son—the more she looked at her, the more pleasing she seemed.
When the final exam results came out, Mianmian was once again ranked first in her grade.
That evening, she placed her report card and test papers on the table.
Jiang Yu’an passed by and glanced at them: “Just this?”
She looked up: “Senior, what do you mean?”
“Only 142 in Chinese, with five points deducted just for the essay.” He pointed at the paper. “Your essay’s theme is too shallow—I wrote better than this in middle school.”
Mianmian took a deep breath: “Fine, then you write one and let me see.”
He was taken aback: “Now?”
“Now.”
He smiled: “Alright, you pick the topic.”
She pointed at the paper: “This topic—’Time Does Not Weather Memories.'”
He sat down, took a piece of paper, and wrote for twenty minutes.
When he finished, he tossed it to her.
The handwriting was bold and flowing, as dynamic as a dragon in flight—truly a reflection of the person.
After reading it, she fell silent. It was indeed better than hers.
Stammering and struggling for words, she finally said: “…It’s alright, I guess.”
He laughed: “Just alright? You call this just alright? What kind of judgment is that?”
She stood up: “I don’t have time to argue with you. I need to help Teacher Zhao cook.”
He called after her: “Little girl, if you’re admitting defeat, just admit it honestly—don’t run away!”
Pretending not to hear, she went to the kitchen and stood beside Teacher Zhao chopping vegetables, imagining the cabbage was his head, chopping loudly with a thud-thud.
But that night, she taped his essay to the front of her desk, studying it carefully every day for a full half month.