Shang Wandong was someone with a strong sense of personal space. She was unwilling to get too close to people, and she didn’t like others casually entering her comfort zone. So when Yan Xia heard Shang Wandong agree to let her into the bedroom, she was both startled and delighted, almost convinced that Shang Wandong must have been secretly in love with the female lead all along.
Unfortunately, this pleasant surprise was just a misunderstanding.
She had overthought it. Shang Wandong was a complete blockhead of an AI—even Siri was better at reading the room, okay?!
Yan Xia forcibly consoled herself: Well, hey, at least I got in! If I can come in now, I can go out too. Could you manage that, Yan Siqiu?
The room’s decor followed a minimalist style, with black and white furniture arranged in an artful, flowing layout full of design sense. But at a glance, Yan Xia felt the space seemed a bit too empty and cold.
And the furniture all looked expensive.
Shang Wandong sat down at the desk and gestured for her to sit beside her.
Yan Xia nodded nervously and obediently took a seat.
Moonlight spilled through the enormous floor-to-ceiling window, and the stars parted the clouds to wink quietly at the world, lending the chilly late night a touch of gentleness.
Shang Wandong spread out the test paper. As the distance between them suddenly closed, a faint fragrance quietly diffused through the air.
Delicate wisps of it, carrying a refreshing sweetness.
Shang Wandong paused, almost imperceptibly.
From birth, she had suffered from pheromone insensitivity. Simply put, she could smell pheromones but was never affected by them.
If she remembered correctly, this should be Yan Xia’s pheromones—lime.
Lime was sour and astringent, with a lingering bitterness that numbed the tongue. Most people around her disliked her pheromones. Yan Siqiu complained that Yan Xia’s scent was too bitter and often mocked her for it: “Your scent is as boring as you are!”
But now, within the sourness and astringency, there was a hint of clear sweetness unlike anything before.
“What’s wrong?” Seeing that she hadn’t moved for a long while, Yan Xia tilted her head, a trace of confusion surfacing on her pale face. “Wandong?”
Shang Wandong never wore her heart on her sleeve; even if the sky fell, she’d remain unmoved as a mountain. So she simply shook her head, expressionless. “Nothing.”
She picked up the pencil at hand and began explaining from the first question, sketching diagrams on scratch paper.
But as Yan Xia listened, she started getting drowsy.
It wasn’t that Shang Wandong explained poorly. Her voice was low and her reasoning clear, like raindrops falling into a deep pool, with a long, lingering resonance. Her slender white fingers held the pencil, lightly touching the paper, drawing delicate lines as she spoke with a soft scratching sound.
The night wind was silent, and paired with Shang Wandong’s voice, it was like listening to a very high-end ASMR sleep-aid video.
Plus, this was a math test—the problems on it Yan Xia could solve with her eyes closed. Listening to this kind of explanation was like an adult watching a children’s show, purely for amusement, without any real interest.
Just as the first problem was finished, Shang Wandong paused and asked, “Did you understand?”
Yan Xia forced her eyelids open, nearly slumping onto the desk, and answered lazily, “Mm, mm, the answer is -1, right?”
Shang Wandong looked at her and said, “Wrong.”
Yan Xia froze, instantly snapping mostly awake. “What’s wrong with it?!”
She looked over the problem carefully again, mentally recalculating the answer—wasn’t it -1?
She would never allow her authority in the sciences to be challenged!
“The answer is correct.” Under her puzzled gaze, Shang Wandong said, “But you weren’t listening carefully.”
Yan Xia froze.
Under that clear, calm gaze, she felt, for the first time in ages, a twinge of guilt.
Yan Xia had always been an honor student who was especially good at self-reflection.
She began examining whether she’d gone too far—the guy had spent his evening explaining problems to her out of kindness. Who has the time or obligation to help others like that?
And she’d dozed off. Even if Shang Wandong was just an NPC, that attitude showed a lack of respect, which could easily lower his favorability.
Besides, this novel’s whole premise was “promoting the true, the good, and the beautiful while criticizing the false, the ugly, and the evil.” How could she let readers see a heroine so lax about her studies!
“I… I was wrong.” Yan Xia bit her lip and admitted her mistake honestly. “Don’t be mad. I’ll really listen this time.”
The System was shocked: What? The Host actually apologized to someone!?
“It’s fine.” Shang Wandong nodded, the corners of his lips lifting slightly, like a night-blooming cereus first opening—gone in an instant.
“I’m not angry.”
Yan Xia’s eyes went wide, as if she’d witnessed something unbelievable.
Shang Wandong asked, puzzled, “What is it?”
“You just smiled!” Yan Xia snapped out of it and leaned in closer, eyes sparkling with anticipation. “You should smile more. It looks nice!”
Shang Wandong lowered his eyes. “…You like seeing me smile?”
Yan Xia nodded vigorously. “I do! I thought you were like a robot who couldn’t smile.”
“Fine.” Shang Wandong said softly, “If you listen carefully to the whole lesson, I’ll smile more.”
At those words, Yan Xia suddenly felt genuinely motivated and instinctively sat up straight.
The System: “Uh, Host, doesn’t something feel off to you?”
Yan Xia pushed up her glasses. “What? I’m studying. Don’t bother me.”
The System: “…Is it you capturing her, or her capturing you?!”
Yan Xia retorted, “What nonsense? Who’d get captured by a blockhead? Impossible!”
“For this problem, first use the formula to differentiate and find the value of a, then substitute it into β.” Shang Wandong handed her the pencil. “Try it yourself.”
Yan Xia went through the motions, and sure enough, worked out the value. She feigned delighted surprise and praised him happily, “Wow, Teacher Shang, you’re amazing!”
Shang Wandong: “You’re not bad yourself.”
Yan Xia pressed her advantage, feigning shyness as she held up the test paper expectantly. “From now on, can I come ask you about any problems I don’t understand?”
“I’m afraid not.” Shang Wandong pondered. “Your foundation is too weak. If I have to explain entire papers every time, it would waste a lot of time.”
Yan Xia’s face stiffened.
Damn, she’d almost forgotten—he had low EQ!
Yan Xia lowered her eyes, her voice trembling like rain battering duckweed, performing the regret and disappointment of rejection to perfection. “Okay, I understand.”
Shang Wandong nodded. “Mm. If there’s nothing else, let’s continue.”
Yan Xia was suffocating: …Damn! It’s a miracle he’s made it this far in life without being beaten to death!
After several more problems, the test paper finally reached its last page.
Looking at the final two big questions, Yan Xia, who had been forcing herself to stay focused, couldn’t help yawning.
Shang Wandong glanced at the clock—it was already past one in the morning—and said, “It’s too late. Let’s stop here.”
Yan Xia rubbed her eyes and said quietly, “Okay. Thank you, Teacher Shang.”
She was small and slight, curled up in the warm orange glow of the nightlight, rubbing her palm-sized little face with a clenched fist, her expression dazed and sleepy, looking very docile.
Shang Wandong watched her for a moment, then suddenly reached out and ruffled her hair, the motion so natural it was as if she had done it hundreds of times.
Yan Xia froze, looking up at her in surprise.
Shang Wandong paused too, then looked away and said quietly, “Go back to bed.”
But Yan Xia didn’t leave. Remembering the promise from earlier, she stared at her stubbornly. “You just promised me. You still haven’t smiled.”
So Shang Wandong lifted the corners of her mouth and smiled faintly. For some reason, that smile seemed a little lonely.
An indescribable feeling stirred in Yan Xia’s heart. She stood up in a daze and said hesitantly, “Then… goodnight, Teacher Shang.”
Shang Wandong nodded and walked her to the door, her voice low. “Goodnight, Yan Xia.”
Yan Xia headed toward her room, hearing the door slowly close behind her, soft as a passing breeze.
She couldn’t help thinking in bewilderment: What the hell was that just now? Why did Shang Wandong ruffle my hair?
Could Shang Wandong actually have a secret crush on me? Isn’t she supposed to be a block of wood? How can a block of wood bloom!
Yan Siqiu had just finished using the bathroom when she happened to see Yan Xia coming out of Shang Wandong’s room—and heard the two of them tenderly saying goodnight to each other. Her heart shattered, her soul crumbled.
Fury blazed in her chest. She hurried forward and blocked Yan Xia’s path, domineering: “Why were you coming out of Wandong’s room!”
Seeing it was her, Yan Xia rolled her eyes and answered with feigned fear, “I-I just went to ask Wandong a few questions.”
Yan Siqiu, thinking of how she herself had been rejected time and again while this good-for-nothing Yan Xia kept winning Shang Wandong’s favor, was so furious she nearly swung several punches at the air. “You’re lying! Why would Wandong ever let you into her room!”
Yan Xia widened her eyes innocently and replied with cloying sweetness, “Mm, maybe Wandong just likes me better.”
Yan Siqiu’s blood pressure spiked. “…You’re lying!”
Yan Xia piled it on: “She even smiled at me and praised me for doing a great job.”
Yan Siqiu’s expression froze. Her fists hardened.
But it was the middle of the night, and she couldn’t very well pick a fight with Yan Xia, so she could only shoot her a vicious glare and storm back to her room, hugging her pillow to vent her rage.
Having finished tormenting her dear older sister, Yan Xia was in high spirits as the System’s voice rang in her ears: “Ding-dong! Positive Points +20!”
“Announcement: Reader ‘Flower Doesn’t Understand’ left a message: So satisfying, thanks, more more! And sent a Landmine x1, Positive Points +50!”
Yan Xia: “Another Landmine? System, what’s my total now?”
System: “Positive Points 1620, Corruption Value 5%!”
Yan Xia thought for a moment and said with restraint, “Then I’ll do a single pull first.”
The System said gladly, “All right, Positive Points -160.”
With that, a dazzling burst of colorful light flashed through her mind like a meteor falling from the sky. A card traced a faint radiant arc and dropped before her eyes like a meteorite.
The special effects are pretty fancy!
Yan Xia was thrilled, rubbing her hands together like a fly: “How is it, how is it! Did my single pull work a miracle?” As she spoke, she reached out and flipped the card over.
On the blue face of the card, four large characters stood squarely: Thank You for Your Patronage—Better Luck Next Time!
Yan Xia: …