Hearing Pei Xingche’s name, Yun Xiang was momentarily stunned.
Her first reaction was actually—if only she’d known all his reported answers were correct, she would have referenced them more.
Shen Zhe turned his head and saw the girl beside him with a slight smile curling at the corners of her lips, as if she were laughing.
She was happy for Pei Xingche’s excellent results.
Back when he did well on exams, when had he ever seen Yun Xiang happy for him?
Shen Zhe furrowed his brows, a surge of hostility rising within him.
How was this possible?
He couldn’t match Pei Xingche in looks, couldn’t match him in family background—how could he now lose to him even in grades, the one thing he’d always prided himself on?
It had to be fake!
Cheating—yes, Pei Xingche must have cheated.
Shen Zhe couldn’t help but mutter: “That’s quite an improvement.”
His voice was neither loud nor soft, but the people around him heard it clearly and immediately caught on.
That’s right.
No one had ever heard that Pei Xingche was good at academics—how could he suddenly score full marks in math?
The crowd’s enthusiasm cooled, and the looks directed at Pei Xingche grew more scrutinizing.
Yun Xiang pressed her pale lips together, her brows furrowing slightly.
Whether Pei Xingche had cheated—no one knew better than she did.
Jiang Yangze also heard Shen Zhe’s words and let out a mocking laugh: “Money really is great—you can even buy answers.”
“Last semester, Pei Xingche only scored 110 in math.”
“Heh, anyway, his math scores have always been lower than mine.”
A few people exchanged words and pronounced Pei Xingche guilty.
But they were ultimately guilty and timid, their voices barely audible.
Yet as the results for each subject were announced, the voices questioning Pei Xingche grew louder and louder.
Because not only did he score full marks in math, he only lost four points on the comprehensive science paper.
His English and Chinese scores were also outstanding—he directly took first place in the grade, with a total score that left the second-place student far behind.
The gap between such excellent results and his previously demonstrated level was truly enormous.
Voices of envy, jealousy, and hatred swelled immediately. Many suspected Pei Xingche of cheating, and some busybodies even ran to the campus forum to post indignant threads.
[Some people, before copying answers, could you first gauge your own level? I won’t name names—I’m sure everyone knows who I mean (dog head)]
[The P-school heartthrob is pretty handsome, but no need to go this far for grades. Unfollowing, unfollowing (vomit)]
[You can cheat now and use your power and money to get away with it, but can you cheat on the college entrance exam?]
[So rich people really can do whatever they want (heh)]
[Someone’s not trying to build a “genius” persona, are they? Isn’t stealing the title of school heartthrob enough? Disgusting—completely a waste packaged by capital, and a bunch of girls still fawn over him. How pathetic.]
“Damn, these motherf*ckers.”
In the cafeteria, Jiang Li viciously spat out a bone, his eyes practically blazing with fury.
He showed the phone screen to his other buddies: “Look, what are these idiots barking about?”
Pei Xingche put down his chopsticks, his gaze fixed on a small figure not far away. He glanced indifferently at Jiang Li: “Mind your language.”
“Bro, they’re insulting you like that, and you’re telling me to mind my language?” Jiang Li was baffled.
He’d never thought Brother Che had such a good temper before—it felt like since going to Class Five, Brother Che had become like someone cultivating his mind in a temple.
He scratched his head, exited the forum, put his phone away, and channeled all his fury into his appetite, wolfing down his food.
At this point, still oblivious, he had no idea that Pei Xingche simply didn’t want those filthy words to reach Yun Xiang’s ears.
When you like someone, you naturally want to give them the best things and show them the most perfect version of yourself.
Besides, Pei Xingche truly didn’t care about those posts on the forum.
These past few days, he could clearly feel the hostility from some classmates, but it didn’t matter—this was how the strong operated.
It was lonely at the top, after all. He was used to it.
If they didn’t believe him, then let them not believe. Time would give the best answer.
Pei Xingche leisurely returned to the classroom, but no sooner had he sat down than Old Wang called him to the office.
The classroom immediately erupted.
“I heard someone reported Pei Xingche, and even went straight to the principal about it.”
“Damn, which brave soul? They’re my idol.”
“It’s not that simple. Pei Xingche’s family has invested a lot of money in the school. I bet the school will still protect him this time.”
“So he really did cheat?”
Yun Xiang stopped her pen, the problem-solving thoughts in her head growing increasingly tangled from the chatter.
She bit her lip, torn over whether to speak up for Pei Xingche.
On one hand, her words carried little weight, and she knew all too well how terrifying campus gossip could be.
But on the other hand, she had to admit—if it weren’t for choosing seats, Pei Xingche might have continued to hide his abilities. His sudden, abnormally excellent grades were also connected to her.
So she couldn’t bring herself to look the other way.
“That’s not true.”
Yun Xiang suddenly turned around and said to the classmates discussing behind her: “Pei Xingche didn’t cheat. I was in the same exam room as him—I can testify.”
The male classmate behind her was clearly taken aback. He stared at the girl’s delicate, exquisite face, lost in thought, and it took him a long while before he found his voice again: “Oh… is that so…”
At this moment, how could he possibly care whether Pei Xingche had cheated or not?
In truth, Yun Xiang was the class’s privately acknowledged class beauty, but she usually carried herself with a cool, aloof air and didn’t pay much attention to others. Moreover, many in the class had tacitly assumed that Yun Xiang and Shen Zhe were secretly dating, so not many dared to openly pursue Yun Xiang.
But those who secretly harbored feelings for her were plenty.
This male classmate was one of them. He had been sitting behind Yun Xiang for a month now, and this was still the first proper conversation he’d ever had with her.
And it was Yun Xiang who had initiated it—how could that not make his heart flutter?
Seeing the boy won over by her, Yun Xiang curved her eyes, feeling a sense of accomplishment.
She turned back around and let out a soft breath. Her bright, dark doe eyes were clear and pure, dappled with glimmers of laughter, and her pink cherry-blossom lips curved up slightly—innocent and lovely, with a hint of sweet, artless charm.
So when Shen Zhe walked into the classroom, this was exactly the sight that greeted him—his little deskmate in such a state.
He swallowed subtly, the sticky desire in his eyes deepening. He quickly took his seat, leaned in close to his little deskmate, and reached out a finger, wanting to poke Yun Xiang’s cheek.
“What are you so happy about?” He deliberately lowered his voice, the hot breath from his mouth nearly spilling onto Yun Xiang’s ear.
Almost instantly, Yun Xiang shifted her body away by reflex, as if avoiding a venomous snake or scorpion.
She furrowed her brows tightly, finding both Shen Zhe’s breath and his gaze disgusting.
Lately, he really had been crossing more and more boundaries.
Yun Xiang shrank to the other side, head bowed over her practice book, her whole body tense and on guard, her voice stiff: “Nothing.”
It should be soon, Yun Xiang thought with anticipation. The grade rankings had come out today—they should be reselecting seats soon.
She really didn’t want to sit next to Shen Zhe anymore.
“Xiangxiang, keep being my deskmate, alright? When we pick seats later, I’ll still choose you, okay?”
Although Shen Zhe had underperformed this time and dropped a few places in the grade ranking, he was still fifth in the class.
Yun Xiang tightened her grip on the pen in her hand, avoiding Shen Zhe’s eager, fervent gaze. She shook her head and said slowly, “No.”
Shen Zhe’s smile faded from his face. He leaned in closer, his voice more urgent: “Then whose deskmate do you want to be, hm?”
Yun Xiang pressed her lips together and said nothing, nor did she look at him.
“Heh.”
Shen Zhe let out a cold laugh and darkly uttered a name: “Pei Xingche.”
He answered on her behalf: “You want to be Pei Xingche’s deskmate, don’t you?”