The IV drip really worked wonders.
After sleeping for a while, Ji Shu’s headache had eased, and the thermometer showed her temperature back to normal.
It was a rare weekend, and a rare day of good weather. After finishing her homework, she opened the theater tour schedule.
This afternoon at two o’clock, there would be a performance screening on the third floor of the S District auditorium at school. The play was Rock Heathers, performed in English.
Strictly speaking, the piece couldn’t be called classical music, the formal Flandre performances had even added a rock adaptation. Apparently, in previous years, a head student had performed this play with the group, and because it was so spectacular, the rock adaptation was kept and passed down to this year.
Although Xie Zhoulin had told her that if she couldn’t find a small theater group to join, she could ask him for the member allocation list, Ji Shu felt it would be difficult to actively request joining a group she didn’t know.
It was better to watch the performance first, then recruit into a group that needed members on the spot, this would save a lot of communication trouble.
On weekends, she didn’t need to wear her uniform. Ji Shu changed into a gray hoodie and a school skirt before heading out. She estimated the time and arranged for the driver to pick her up at 4:30 p.m.
Once she arrived at the school, she followed the navigation to the venue. The entrance of S2 was bustling with people. Today’s audience was especially large, but the hall was spacious enough that it didn’t feel crowded.
Inside the huge auditorium, most of the Flandre students in casual clothes entered in sequence, looking for seats they liked. The air conditioning was strong, and the red velvet curtains hanging in the hall swayed slightly. Dim spotlights overhead flickered across the space as students moved, casting intersecting shadows.
Ji Shu had arrived early and found a suitable seat.
Before long, she suddenly heard low gasps and murmurs of excitement.
“—The young duke!”
“Is this real? Did I see that right?”
“It’s just dark, I’m not blind. How could I see wrong?”
“The young duke came to this performance too! I’m so lucky!”
Footsteps clustered together. The crowd instinctively parted to let the unhurried figure through. Ji Shu felt a faint unease in her chest and pulled her hood over her head, but the footsteps stopped at her row anyway.
The person in the very front row stood up nervously, letting Lu Mingxi step in. He walked in with his hands in his pockets, swaying slightly sideways as he moved forward. When he reached the seat next to Ji Shu, he stopped.
Ji Shu lowered her head to let him pass.
He seemed to glance at her for about two seconds, then lightly chuckled as he walked past, brushing his chest against her hair. Ji Shu felt a subtle vibration in her chest as she heard his laugh.
In the dim light, his pale pink hair appeared muted and darkened, swaying slightly in the cool air like gently stirred red wine. The scent hit Ji Shu’s nose with an almost forceful presence.
She held her breath, waiting for him to pass, but unexpectedly, he stopped once he reached her right side and plopped down.
Ji Shu instantly regretted not choosing a seat with people on both sides.
She forced herself to sit upright, pretending as if nothing had happened, though the quiet whispers and the flashes from phones around them made her increasingly uneasy sitting next to Lu Mingxi.
The right armrest suddenly felt heavier.
Ji Shu saw a hand press down on the armrest between them. She immediately pulled back her arm and shifted slightly to the other side.
He, however, seemed completely unaware, leaning back lazily. His long legs, squeezed somewhat by the narrow space between the seats, were still casually crossed, encroaching a little into Ji Shu’s space.
She cautiously shifted her legs away.
From the row beside them came a low, sly snicker: “…Ambitious.”
Ji Shu gritted her teeth but couldn’t help responding: “You said yesterday you didn’t see anything besides my schedule.”
So how does he know which performance I chose today?
Lu Mingxi propped his chin on his hand, leaning toward her at a slight angle, yet his gaze didn’t meet hers, he watched the screen ahead with apparent interest, which had yet to start.
He lifted the corner of his lips: “What does it matter to you? Why can’t I just happen to pick this one?”
Ji Shu felt defeated. Seeing him annoyed her so much that she ignored him, tightening the drawstrings of her hood to erase the last trace of his presence from her peripheral vision.
Still, his crossed legs swayed slowly in front of her, a quiet assertion of his presence. A slight glance down revealed them immediately.
…Annoying.
She averted her eyes and focused on the stage.
The performance began quickly.
Rock Heathers was a campus youth crime comedy.
The protagonist, Veronica, had originally been a bookish girl. To avoid exclusion and isolation, she joined the popular campus sister group, the Heathers. Like all small cliques, the Heathers took pleasure in tormenting others. Their leader, Heather Chandler, was beautiful yet cruel, leading her group to exploit their high status, commit mischief, and bully classmates.
During this, Veronica gradually became attracted to Jason, a carefree and reckless boy, and soon realized the immorality of her actions within the group. She resolved to break ties with Heather Chandler.
But things were never that simple. Veronica soon faced even more blatant bullying from Heather, whose wanton and cruel behavior became unbearable. Determined, Veronica teamed up with Jason to deal with Heather, but by a tragic twist of fate, a poisoned drink from Jason ended up killing Heather outright.
Thus, a campus romance officially turned into a crime comedy.
And Veronica’s murderous career had only just begun.
Before coming to watch the performance, Ji Shu had pre-studied the music for the play. The original score was rather plain, but previous performers at Flandre had added modern rock elements, making it catchier and more contemporary. Although the plot involved crimes, the exaggerated elements and theatrical style kept the overall tone relatively light.
“Boring.” A low voice came from beside her.
Lu Mingxi yawned, clearly uninterested. His long lashes drooped, and the shifting light and shadow from the screen flickered across his sharply defined features, highlighting contrasts of brightness and shade.
He seemed to tilt his head toward Ji Shu, as if her gray hood were more interesting than the projection screen. Ji Shu felt his gaze linger on her face, studying her with mild curiosity. Finally, he asked, “Do you like musicals?”
Ji Shu: “So-so.”
Lu Mingxi dragged out the “oh” and said, “The duke’s mansion has a private theater. Last year, they even invited a world-renowned musical theater troupe to perform here.”
Ji Shu: “…?”
What did that have to do with her? It made no sense.
But his surprisingly good mood didn’t last long.
“Our love is God…”
As the final song played, Lu Mingxi’s phone lit up, apparently a notification. He glanced at it, then pursed his lips and clicked his tongue in irritation.
Impatient, he tapped the screen, but immediately the phone vibrated again, this time showing an incoming call.
He had no choice but to get up and step outside to answer.
Meanwhile, the performance on the screen drew to a close.
In the story’s ending, Veronica personally shot Jason, who had attempted to blow up the school, bringing the chaotic crime comedy to an end.
The auditorium was filled with sighs of relief, and a few especially empathetic students even quietly wept.
Ji Shu’s own interest remained low. Indeed, as Lu Mingxi had said, the musical was somewhat boring. On the bright side, the dialogue was simple and lifelike, so staging it shouldn’t be too difficult, far easier than several higher-difficulty productions in the neighboring German-Austrian troupe.
After the crowd dispersed, Ji Shu went backstage to look for a group to join. Other performances were wrapping up as well, some groups were actively recruiting members on the spot, others used banners displaying their play titles, and a few even advertised guarantees of course credit and an A grade for participating.
She happened to spot the German-Austrian troupe just finishing their rehearsal. Surprisingly, while she hadn’t even joined a group yet, theirs had already begun their first run-through, their efficiency was astonishing.
Xie Zhoulin was just coming down from the stage, greeting everyone in the troupe as he went and making his way toward the lounge.
Ji Shu walked over and greeted him as well. When Xie Zhoulin saw her, his expression faltered slightly before he nodded in response.
As he walked, he asked, “Have you decided which troupe to join?”
Ji Shu replied, “I’m still choosing. The performance next door just ended, so I’m going to look for a group that’s recruiting.”
Xie Zhoulin was in the Elizabeth troupe, playing the role of Death. This was a small-language historical play with very high vocal difficulty. It was said that his father had played the same role before retiring and had gained great fame on stage because of it.
He glanced down at his rehearsal schedule. “Every Friday afternoon, during the club activity slot at the same location, we rehearse here. If you’re interested, you can come watch.”
Ji Shu was a little surprised by his invitation. “Thank you.”
Xie Zhoulin simply said “Mm” and seemed busy, constantly replying to emails. Ji Shu didn’t want to linger awkwardly beside him. She was about to think of an excuse to leave when she heard him call her name.
“Ji Shu.”
She responded with a quiet, “Yes.”
“There’s room in the troupe to add members to play movable props,” he said evenly. “If you haven’t decided yet, you could give it a try.”
The stage lights were dim, and he wasn’t wearing glasses. His lashes hung low as he typed replies, the screen’s soft glow reflecting off his black hair and eyelashes, making his sharp features striking.
Ji Shu paused, then realized something.
She remembered joking in class before, saying something like, “Playing a tree wouldn’t be so bad.”
…He remembered?
Even so, Ji Shu forced herself to decline lightly. “Thank you, President, but my GPA was too low last semester. I really can’t slack off on this assignment.”
Even playing a tree could earn a B+, but to raise the original owner’s GPA, she couldn’t settle for just a B+. Besides, she didn’t want to continue owing Xie Zhoulin favors, he had already helped her several times, and accumulating more would weigh on her conscience.
As long as he didn’t follow the original story or condone, or even join, the bullying, that was the best news for her.
“Alright.” Xie Zhoulin didn’t say anything further. His tone sounded slightly colder, though Ji Shu wasn’t sure if it was just her impression.
She was about to say something more when a group of girls pushed into the backstage area, their voices noisy. They must have found out about Xie Zhoulin’s rehearsal schedule somehow, calling his name and trying to squeeze into the lounge.
Ji Shu hurriedly said, “I’ll leave first.”
“Mm.”
Ji Shu glanced down at the time, almost four o’clock. She wasn’t sure if the troupe booths outside were still open, but there were a few replay performances later, so there was no rush. She pulled her hood over her head, lowered it, and was about to leave when her steps paused. She turned toward the person with his back to her, busy with work, and whispered, “Xie Zhoulin.”
“…”
“…Thank you for before.”
“…”
She didn’t know if he heard her. She just lowered her head and, like a fish slipping through water, hurried through the bustling, noisy crowd.
Her slender figure quickly disappeared from sight.
The troupe members rushed over to close the door.
As the door clicked shut, the oppressive summer sky suddenly rumbled with thunder.
“Rumble—”
Xie Zhoulin raised a hand and pressed it wearily against his forehead.
On his phone was an invitation from the Duke, along with preparatory work for the Chief’s meeting, schedules for later, including a piano performance and the school tennis friendly, plus a thick stack of unread links and documents flashing endlessly.
“President, look!” one troupe member called as they ran to open a window. “It’s raining! What terrible luck!”
“It was sunny just a moment ago.”
“Such a rare weekend, and I even had plans to go to a yacht party tonight!”
…
Xie Zhoulin turned to look outside. Thick, heavy clouds were rolling in, stacking and layering, darkening half the sky. The damp, humid air quickly spread through the atmosphere.
The moisture was so heavy it felt almost sticky.
The troupe members turned on the exhaust fan, its whirring sound quickly filled the room.
At the same time, Xie Zhoulin’s inbox received a new notification: an investigation result email.
It detailed what the two smoking girls had done in the bathroom that day, identified the mastermind behind it, and included the pre-processing notice from the Academic Affairs Office.
Xie Zhoulin didn’t read the text. He scrolled down until the evidence photo appeared.
The girl held a piece of paper, on which “Bullying Offender” was scrawled in bold letters with lipstick, like a certificate of guilt.
The photo was painfully clear.
She sat crookedly on the ground, drenched, disheveled, and pitiably slumping her head. Her skin was pale and cold from the water, her black hair dripping steadily, and bruises on her thighs, normally barely visible, were now glaringly obvious beneath her skirt.
Xie Zhoulin recalled that gym class under the harsh, glaring lights.
Fragile, sticky, and heavy, it clung to his palm.
He turned off his phone screen and got up silently, leaving without a word.
A troupe member, noticing his movement, asked in confusion, “President! Where are you going?”
Xie Zhoulin’s expression remained blank:
“Wash my hands.”
Because the rain was coming, the troupe’s booths had packed up early. Ji Shu hadn’t even had the chance to sign up and now had no choice but to leave.
The moment she stepped out of the main gate, a torrential downpour hit.
With a swish, the clear weather was completely drenched, and the stifling, heavy air, thick from the earlier heat, began to flow slowly like water brought to a boil under the deluge.
She stood under the eaves, tightening her hood strings, mentally preparing herself to become a drenched mess.
The driver’s waiting spot wasn’t far anyway.
Just as she thought this, an umbrella was extended over her head.
She turned to look. Lu Mingxi was there, holding a black umbrella, standing beside her. He seemed to have just returned from somewhere, it was unclear where he’d gotten the umbrella. His expression was heavy, as if he’d been lost in thought not long ago. Nearby, Jiang Zhaoming stood with his hands behind his back, giving a casual wave toward them.
Lu Mingxi let out a soft hum and naturally gestured to her: “Shall we go?”
Ji Shu didn’t move. She asked, “Weren’t you gone?”
“I just went to take a call.”
“Then why come back with an umbrella?”
“The driver brought it.”
“…Just the one?” Ji Shu glanced at Jiang Zhaoming behind her, who awkwardly avoided her gaze.
“How many more umbrellas do you want?” Lu Mingxi chuckled at her. The tension between his brows seemed to ease slightly. He looked at her, raised an eyebrow, and asked, “Are we going or not?”
Seeing more and more people looking their way, Ji Shu didn’t want to attract attention and stepped into the rain.
Lu Mingxi followed behind her, holding the black umbrella, hands in his pockets. His pace was unhurried, but the large, dark umbrella completely shielded her head from the rain.
By the time they reached the driver, only her shoes were wet and the hem of her skirt was damp from the slanting rain.
Ji Shu didn’t speak to Lu Mingxi, simply opened the car door, and got into the back seat. When she turned, the boy closed his umbrella and swaggered in from the other side. He adjusted his coat, curled his long legs in the back, and the damp rain droplets clung to his pink hair, sticking to his cheeks, while his shoulders were slightly wet.
Ji Shu asked, “Where’s your driver? This is my car. You get out.”
Leaning against the seat, Lu Mingxi flicked water off himself and said matter-of-factly, “My driver hasn’t come. Isn’t it fine if I catch a ride?”
…Even though he had just said the driver brought the umbrella.
Speaking without the slightest hint of guilt, he stretched out, rested his forearm on the front seat, and tapped the driver’s headrest with his fingers: “Home.”
Ji Shu’s face stayed cold. “First go to the duke’s mansion. Take the young duke back.”
Lu Mingxi smiled. “Going to your place first is fine.”
A bad feeling crept up in Ji Shu’s chest.
The scenery outside blurred as the car moved. Raindrops splashed and streaked against the windows, quickly smearing into an indistinct gray.
Ji Shu leaned against the window, keeping as much distance from him as possible. Lu Mingxi didn’t seem to notice, he rested a hand on the window, turned his face to watch the rain outside, lost in thought. Droplets slid down the tips of his hair into his collar, dampening the small patch of fabric at the neckline.
The ride was silent, but Ji Shu’s unease steadily grew into certainty.
By the time they reached her home, the car stopped, and Lu Mingxi followed her out, still holding the umbrella.
He hooked an arm around her shoulder, acting like classmates, wearing a polite, practiced smile, walking into the living room with ease, more naturally than she herself.