Sang Yu was momentarily stunned. She didn’t know what she had just said, only feeling that Huo Yan’s question was somewhat strange. She answered honestly, “Sleeping.”
Huo Yan looked at her, narrowed his eyes slightly, curled the corner of his lips, and didn’t speak further.
In front of them, Zhang Qile was holding textbooks to cover his face, wearing an expression of utter shock.
Throughout the two morning classes, Sang Yu had been listening attentively.
Although she had been in the science track during high school, Sang Yu had achieved outstanding academic results in both her lifetimes.
Contrary to the common belief that girls perform poorly in sciences, Sang Yu consistently scored perfect marks in mathematics, physics, and chemistry exams. Only her Chinese language scores were average, which was why she had chosen computer science without hesitation when selecting her major.
After morning classes ended, most classmates either returned to their dormitories or went to the cafeteria for lunch. Having no money, Sang Yu remained at her desk, working on the coding assignment the teacher had assigned.
She planned to see if she could earn some money at the Internet cafe near the school after evening classes.
In her previous life, she had entered Huaqing University as the top gaokao scorer in the city. Her professional skills had always been strong, and she had won numerous awards.
After escaping from Huo Yan’s gilded cage, she had supported herself by writing code for others, managing to save some money.
Now she could similarly write code for people to earn living expenses.
However, she needed a computer.
Huo Yan hadn’t gone to the cafeteria for dinner either, instead sleeping with his head on the desk.
Seeing that everyone had left the classroom except Sang Yu, who was still working on her coding assignment, Zhang Qile couldn’t help but express surprise, “Little classmate, why aren’t you going to eat?”
Sang Yu lifted her eyes, noticing Huo Yan’s fingers twitching slightly beside her, as if he had woken up.
“I… I don’t have money,” Sang Yu lowered her gaze, her tone somewhat pitiful.
“Ah?” Zhang Qile’s eyes widened in disbelief. In this day and age, how could someone not have money for food?
“Don’t your parents give you pocket money?” Zhang Qile asked without thinking.
Sang Yu’s pen tip scratched across the paper. She shook her head, “I don’t have family.”
“You’re an orphan?” Zhang Qile found her increasingly pitiful.
“No, I have brothers, but they’re currently…” She trailed off, leaving the sentence unfinished.
“Whatever you want to eat, it’s on me,” Zhang Qile didn’t press further, speaking generously.
He woke Huo Yan, “Yan Ge, let’s go eat.”
Huo Yan sat up, his voice slightly hoarse, “Not going. Go by yourself.”
Sang Yu stole a glance at him. The boy’s thick, dark eyebrows were furrowed, his pale face showing faint traces of weariness.
“Then I’ll go eat with Sang Yu,” Zhang Qile said cheerfully.
“No need. Thank you, I… I’m not hungry,” Sang Yu replied with a grateful smile, lowering her eyes again.
Zhang Qile frowned, “What’s with you two? I’ll go eat and bring something back for you, alright?” He shook his head, picked up his keys, and left.
Only Sang Yu and Huo Yan remained in the classroom.
After speaking, Sang Yu continued working on her assignment with her head down.
Huo Yan had overheard her conversation with Zhang Qile. He looked down at her.
Sang Yu’s hands were small, pale, and slender with no excess flesh. She held the pen with serious concentration, the thin skin over her prominent knuckles stretched tight, showing pink in the creases.
Yet the needle marks on her arm remained particularly glaring.
Huo Yan could guess part of the story.
Several assignments suddenly appeared on the desk, placed before Sang Yu.
Sang Yu was slightly taken aback, looking at him with confusion, “Yan Ge…”
Huo Yan’s expression remained cold, “Do my assignments for me. One thousand per session.”
“Ah,” Sang Yu seemed to pause briefly, blinking as she looked at him for two seconds.
Huo Yan twisted open the water bottle on the table, tilted his head back for a sip. The boy’s Adam’s apple bobbed several times before he set the water down, noticing the girl’s gaze. “Don’t want to write?”
“No.” Sang Yu shook her head, her clear eyes fixed intently on him as she suddenly curved into a smile. “Huo Yan, you really don’t need to pretend to be so fierce.”
Huo Yan’s hand stilled. He looked down at her and suddenly laughed, though the smile carried no warmth.
“Little classmate,” he stared boldly at Sang Yu, “don’t think you know me that well.”