Shan Jiqiu was startled, jerking in panic. In her flustered turn, she swung too hard—smacking her forehead straight into Lu Yun’s head.
Bang! The sound was loud enough to scare off the kissing monkeys.
The mountain greenery rushed by, clouds drifting in coils. Wherever the monkey troop went, shrieks followed.
Shan Jiqiu clutched her forehead, cheeks burning red. Flustered, she lowered her head, rubbing her brow, hiding her face. “Are you a ghost? Trying to murder me with your skull?”
“If I wanted to kill you, I’d just push you off. No need to scare you first.” Lu Yun rubbed his own head, watching her furious expression. He wanted to laugh but held back, afraid she’d shove him off the cliff in retaliation.
Seeing her still bent over, clutching her forehead, he guessed she was truly hurt. He quickly reached to pull her hand away. “Alright, let me see.” His tone carried helplessness.
“No need.” Shan Jiqiu refused to let go.
Lu Yun, unimpressed by her stubbornness, tugged harder. The strength gap between boys and girls was obvious—he easily pried her hand away. His dark eyes fixed on her smooth forehead, pupils reflecting her frowning face. Her skin was pale and delicate, and sure enough, a red mark stood out starkly against it.
Lu Yun immediately shrugged off his backpack, unzipped it, pulled out a bottle of mineral water, and pressed it lightly to her forehead. “Hold it there for a while—it’ll be fine.”
Shan Jiqiu took the bottle, holding it steady herself, but her eyes followed his hand.
Lu Yun’s hands were striking—long, slender fingers, joints lean and balanced. His skin was paler than many girls’, with faint blue veins visible beneath.
She stayed still, bottle pressed to her forehead, watching him calmly repack his bag. Her thoughts drifted back to the monkeys kissing. How long had he been watching her before making that remark? Did he notice something?
But in the blink of an eye, she dismissed the idea. No—judging by his expression and reaction, he hadn’t noticed anything. After all, she’d hidden it well all these years, never daring to slip.
Lu Yun zipped up his bag, straightened, slung it over his shoulder, and gave it a shake. Finally, he lifted his gaze—meeting hers head-on.
She looked dazed, eyes unfocused, misty, as if lost in thought. Seeing her distracted like that, he wondered—was this girl still replaying the monkeys’ intimate scene in her mind?
“Qiu-baby,” Lu Yun called.
“What?” Shan Jiqiu blinked, snapping back to herself.
“You hit your forehead.” He looked at her face, lips curved, speaking with meaning. “So why are you blushing?”
“I’m not blushing. I’m not!” But the more she denied it, the hotter her face grew.
Seeing this, Lu Yun teased even more: “Oh, redder now.” He raised his brows, clicking his tongue twice. “Sure enough, little girl’s grown into a young lady—her thoughts aren’t so innocent anymore!”
Before the words had even faded, a bottle of mineral water flew at him. He caught it easily with one hand.
Then came the girl’s unreasonable voice echoing through the mountains: “You’re the one who’s not innocent! Your whole family’s not innocent!”
Yu Kexia and Tan Junhao had just managed to drag Zhou An across the glass walkway. As soon as they steadied themselves, they saw Shan Jiqiu hurling a water bottle at Lu Yun and cursing his whole family.
The three of them stood aside, watching the show, whispering commentary.
Yu Kexia: “When those two get along, they’re inseparable. When they fight, they look ready to kill each other. How can two top students be so childish?”
Zhou An: “Ha, like you’re not childish?”
Yu Kexia gave him a dangerous smile. “Believe me, I can get you here—and make sure you don’t get back.”
Zhou An: “I’ve got Junhao, plus Yun-ge and Qiu-shen. Who needs you?”
Yu Kexia: “Zhou An, you bastard.”
Zhou An: “If I’m a bastard, then you’re a turtle egg.”
Tan Junhao couldn’t take it anymore, cutting in: “You two are the ones dragging everyone off track. When it comes to childishness, I only bow to you.”
Yu Kexia and Zhou An glared at each other, then stubbornly turned their heads away.
Tan Junhao looked up at the sky, sighing: *What kind of friends have I ended up with…*
And so, the last day of the holiday ended in chaos far from what they’d imagined—yet under the most beautiful sunset glow. The clouds at the horizon shifted colors, the mountains blushed red. Sunset over peaks, shadows stretching long. The crowds dispersed, and time stretched on.
Some conquered fears, some hid joy. Some disguised feelings, some failed to recognize true hearts.
This—was youth.
…
On the first day back after the holiday, the monthly exam results were posted. For many, the first monthly exam was a reshuffling, a new measure of themselves against others.
But for Shan Jiqiu and Lu Yun, the top two spots on the bulletin board remained unshaken.
The monthly exam was strictly modeled after the college entrance exam papers. Across the entire grade, five students scored above 700. First place had 710, second place 705, and the other three hovered just above the 700 mark. And so, perennial runner-up Lu Yun was once again summoned to Old Xie’s office.
Old Xie slapped Lu Yun’s paper down on the desk. Too tired to be angry, he wore instead the look of a man suffering a heart attack. “I won’t even criticize you anymore. Just tell me honestly—do you have a problem with me, or with chemistry as a subject?”
Lu Yun smiled, shaking his head, his tone sincere enough: “Neither.”
Old Xie snorted, lifted his thermos, blew on it, took a sip, then said: “Then explain this. You know everything we haven’t even taught yet, but every time you throw away points so cleanly. Seven multiple-choice questions total, and you miss two. Twelve points, Lu Yun—do you know what that means?”
He grew agitated again and quickly gulped water to calm himself. He reminded himself: today’s strategy was gentle persuasion, not rage. After a breath, he continued: “That’s like losing an entire big problem. If you lost points on a big problem, I wouldn’t drag you in every time.”
This kid—someone who knew content he hadn’t even studied—how could he possibly be weak? Impossible.
What infuriated Old Xie was that Lu Yun always lost points on multiple-choice. Big problems all correct, but the choices wrong? Did multiple-choice questions not deserve his respect?
Fine, call it carelessness. But every time? Clearly, in science, he could score full marks, yet chemistry was always the weak link. So the only truth was—Old Xie suspected the boy was deliberately targeting him.
Lu Yun scratched his brow, joking: “Then maybe next time I’ll throw points on the big problems instead?”
Old Xie, mid-sip of jujube-goji tea, froze. His face flushed red from cheeks to neck in seconds.
Lu Yun quickly grinned apologetically: “Just trying to lighten the mood, Teacher Xie. Don’t get worked up.”
Worked up? Old Xie clutched his chest, stomping his feet, face red as fire. He pointed at his throat, gasping: “Stuck… stuck!”
That day, the campus loudspeakers buzzed with gossip: “Heard Old Xie choked on a jujube after being angered by Lu Yun, nearly passed out. Teacher Qu was ready to call 120…”
Good news never travels far, but bad news spreads like wildfire.
After the monthly exam, seats were rearranged in the second week. Some tearfully parted from their temporary deskmates, others happily bonded with new ones. And some—remained deskmates forever.
Unshakable as thunder.
By logic, seating should have been arranged for peer support. Many top students had weak subjects, so all-rounders like Lu Yun and Shan Jiqiu should have been split to help others.
But Xu Zhi insisted: as competition-track students, they should sit together—so they wouldn’t disturb others, nor be disturbed themselves.
Thus, other competition students were also grouped together.
For example, Tan Junhao, who thought he’d finally escape the problem-set maniac beside him. He cheerfully bid farewell to Liu Peng before class, only to wilt like a frostbitten eggplant afterward.
Tan Junhao howled to the heavens: “This must be karma!”
Shan Jiqiu and Lu Yun could only look at him with sympathetic eyes—then promptly abandoned him to his fate, each returning to their own work.
Next came the intense preparations for the much-anticipated sports meet. The classroom atmosphere grew lively and busy. After all, this was another chance for student council members and class officers to shine.
Class officers were elected on Friday of the first week of school. But the hot favorites, Lu Yun and Shan Jiqiu, stuck to their “fine tradition” of laziness—firmly refusing to take office.
Xu Zhi repeated his usual line: competitions take up too much time, so he allowed it.
Still, Shan Jiqiu no longer dared to nap as she had in her first year. Back then, without competitions weighing her down, life had been relatively easy. Now, every day, she buried herself in problem sets while the class officers bustled about.
Lu Yun, meanwhile, carried on as always—napping through morning self-study, solving problems in class, playing basketball after school. His days remained carefree.
Sometimes, seeing his laid-back attitude, Shan Jiqiu wanted to give him a wake-up call. But each time she saw his nearly flawless answers on the Olympiad mock papers, she swallowed her words. In truth, she often envied him. Though she was ranked first in the grade, it came at the cost of relentless effort.
Lu Yun, on the other hand, studied as he pleased, played freely after class, tinkered with programming data, even had time for games—yet always held steady at second place, his total score snapping at her heels.
If she were the “hard work” type, he was definitely the “talent” type. If only chemistry didn’t trip him up with careless mistakes, her number-one spot might well be his. No wonder Old Xie was always exasperated, even resorting to choking on jujubes in frustration. And here he came again, fresh from basketball.
Lu Yun wore a yellow No. 8 jersey over a white T-shirt. His cropped bangs were damp, strands clinging to his brow. His calves, firm and straight beneath his shorts, were the very definition of long, lean lines.
She remembered back in freshman military training—even she had tanned a shade darker. But he? No matter how much sun, he never darkened. His skin was so pale he could have walked straight into *Twilight*. Even the girls envied it.
Lu Yun bent down, neck tilted, leaning toward Shan Jiqiu. “What are you looking at?”
Shan Jiqiu twirled her eyes, tapped her chin with her pen, and replied slowly: “I’m wondering if playing basketball can earn you extra points in the math competition selection.”
Lu Yun laughed, pulled out a chair, sat down, and leaned back—legs sprawled under the desk, a little cramped. He dragged his chair back, turned sideways, and propped his head on one hand, facing Shan Jiqiu.
“What, you trying to manage me?” He smiled carelessly.
Shan Jiqiu shot him a glance. “Who has time to manage you? Move away—you stink of sweat.”
Lu Yun laughed even harder. Mischievously, he shook his head, flicking droplets from his damp hair onto her face.
Shan Jiqiu, attacked by this sudden “sweat rain,” flung her pen down and warned: “Try that again and see what happens!”
Lu Yun grinned. “Alright, no more teasing. Let’s make a bet, Qiu-baby.”
Shan Jiqiu: “…”
Lu Yun: “It’s water, not sweat.”
Shan Jiqiu: “What’s the bet?”
Lu Yun: “That I’ll beat you on the next exam.”
Shan Jiqiu kept writing, paused briefly, then asked: “And the stakes?”
Lu Yun: “If I beat you, you’ll wash my socks for a month.”
Shan Jiqiu: “…”
Seeing her ignore him, Lu Yun leaned closer, watching her scribble calculations on scratch paper.
“Fair’s fair,” he said, words slipping out unchecked. “If you win, I’ll not only wash your socks for a month—I’ll wash your underwear too.”
The moment the words landed, Shan Jiqiu’s pen skidded across the page, leaving a black arc that obliterated her formula.
“Get lost.” She looked ready to burst a blood vessel.