The next morning, Ji Shu handed the student council membership application to Xie Zhoulin.
She had mentally prepared herself for Lu Mingxi to treat her even more harshly than before. But, to her surprise, he didn’t act as she had imagined.
Lu Mingxi himself either slept in his seat, played on his phone, or chatted casually, just like any other day, and he didn’t glance at her repeatedly as he had before.
Instead, Jiang Zhaoming from the class next door spent the entire morning constantly running between classrooms, trailing after her. Even Lu Mingxi’s usual clique began acting unusually friendly toward her, often unconsciously mentioning her in conversations or handing the topic over to her.
The way other classmates looked at her also changed subtly, tinged with a hint of fear. Even a few girls who normally crowded around Ji Shu with questions as soon as class ended dared not approach her out of intimidation.
Ji Shu firmly declined Jiang Zhaoming’s insistence: “Don’t follow me. I don’t need your help.”
He scratched his head awkwardly: “The young Duke said he did something bad to you before and wants us to make it up to you. Just don’t refuse, it would make everyone feel bad otherwise.”
Ji Shu could only put on her headphones, sit at her desk, and work on problems alone, pretending not to hear what they were saying.
Morning classes finally ended, and she grabbed her backpack and dashed out of the classroom toward the cafeteria. Her afternoon elective had finished last week, so she had free time. She planned to sit for a while in the A09 chief’s lounge.
On the way, she suddenly noticed a crowd gathered near the bulletin board. From the edge of the crowd, she saw that the international youth science and innovation competition rankings had been posted.
The top spot was held by Chi Yaoxing, leading the second-place competitor by more than thirty points.
Ji Shu remembered the name, she had seen him at last week’s chief meeting. She’d heard he was the most low-profile chief, rarely seen in public.
Voices of admiration and envy buzzed nearby:
“This must be a genius, right? Seems like he’s been winning gold medals since middle school. I really want to see what’s going on in his head.”
“To celebrate, his dad’s company donated over two hundred iMacs to the school library, all equipped with their latest AI model. He’s low-profile personally, but definitely not in his work!”
“He also has a well-connected international supermodel sister, and his parents are said to be very open-minded. I’m so jealous, someone like him must already have the perfect life…”
Ji Shu listened while slowly recalling. In the original story, this chief barely had any scenes. Until the original protagonist’s suicide, he appeared only a few times, and the two of them had almost no interaction.
Her impression of him was shallow, but from the brief contact at the first meeting, he didn’t seem to like interacting with people much, and he wasn’t particularly warm or cold toward her.
While she was lost in thought, a voice of surprise came from behind: “Ji Shu! What a coincidence, running into you here!”
It was Cen Xuan, speaking excitedly. Next to her was Chu Jiayi, still wearing a baseball cap and blowing bubbles. She was very tall, when she approached, Ji Shu felt like the sunlight behind her was being blocked.
“What are you looking at? What’s going on?”
Cen Xuan was very curious about the bulletin board, but it was crowded, and she was short, so she couldn’t see. Chu Jiayi, standing behind her, reached under her arms and gently lifted her up.
Cen Xuan took a quick glance and was set down again, looking rather uninterested.
As they walked away, Cen Xuan asked, “Ji Shu, are you interested in competitions like this? You can earn a lot of credits!”
Ji Shu shook her head. “I don’t really know much about them.”
“These competitions happen every year. Students at Flandre can form teams on their own, but Chi Yaoxing participates alone every year,” Cen Xuan said with admiration. “Lots of people try to team up with him but fail. Of course, with all the terrifying rumors about him, anyone brave enough to ask must really have courage.”
Ji Shu remembered seeing posts on a forum about Chi Yaoxing hitting someone and asked, “Are the rumors about him true?”
Cen Xuan laughed. “Which ones? He has a lot of rumors, but from what I’ve heard, most of them are true, oh, except the one about a scar on his face, no one’s actually seen that.”
As she spoke, her expression suddenly changed, as if she remembered something, and she leaned a little closer to Ji Shu: “…Oh, by the way, did you hear? Just yesterday, Qin Jia and a few others got ambushed!”
Ji Shu was a little surprised. Yesterday? That was just shortly after the café incident.
“Really?”
“Of course it’s true. My friend in the vocal class told me personally. Qin Jia’s seat is empty now. I heard they were taken to the hospital and probably won’t be out for at least ten days, maybe half a month. Ruan Si’an cried so much in class after hearing the news that she ran straight to the hospital without even finishing her lesson.”
Cen Xuan sighed. “But it’s understandable. She hangs out with her rowdy friends all the time. Sooner or later, someone with a grudge catches up with them. Can’t really blame anyone.”
Ji Shu’s mood was complicated. She looked at Cen Xuan seriously and said, “Thank you for your advice last time.”
Cen Xuan chuckled. “Advice is a strong word, but if you really want to thank me, come watch Chu Jiayi’s tennis match with me at the tennis club tomorrow or the day after!”
Ji Shu glanced at the tall, expressionless girl behind Cen Xuan and asked, “When exactly?”
“Oh, great!” Cen Xuan jumped up excitedly and patted Ji Shu on the shoulder. “Tomorrow or the day after, after elective classes in the afternoon. At the stadium. I’ll pick you up then.”
“No need,” the tall girl muttered suddenly, her voice muffled by the bubblegum stuck in her mouth.
Cen Xuan lightly kicked her leg and explained to Ji Shu, “Chu Jiayi doesn’t have many friends in the tennis club. We’re just going to support her, so people don’t underestimate her.”
Ji Shu nodded in agreement.
After parting ways, Ji Shu headed toward A09 and went to the first floor to get a pass from Cheng Qiuyuan.
He told her that her membership procedures were already being processed and would probably be completed by tomorrow.
“From now on, we’ll be working together.” Cheng Qiuyuan said with a smile, giving her an encouraging thumbs-up.
When she reached the seventh floor, she didn’t expect the lounge to already be occupied.
Chi Yaoxing sat on the sofa wearing a hoodie, playing a game. He was tall and slim, sinking deep into the sofa on the far side, headphones on, completely focused.
Ji Shu hesitated for a moment, then knocked on the door before slowly stepping inside and greeting him:
“Good afternoon.”
She wasn’t sure if it was just her imagination, but his body seemed to stiffen slightly.
Just when Ji Shu thought he would ignore her, the boy’s low, slow voice finally came: “…Mm.”
Ji Shu was a little surprised that he actually responded.
After putting down her backpack, she sat at the other end of the sofa, keeping at least twice the usual social distance between them.
For some reason, probably because the sofa sagged slightly under her weight, the boy seemed even more uncomfortable. The joystick made a faint, dizzying click as he adjusted it.
…Could it be that she had intruded on his personal space?
Ji Shu hesitated. She was about to get up and move when his voice came from the other end, slightly hoarse:
“It’s okay… you can sit here.”
He spoke without looking away from the screen. Gray strands of hair hung from under his hood, perfectly still along with his posture. Ji Shu almost thought it was a statue speaking.
“Then I’ll stay,” Ji Shu said, sitting back down.
Refusing now would have seemed rude.
She leaned into the comfortable sofa, watching the game screen. Occasionally, she felt his gaze, but when she glanced over, he didn’t turn his head. There was a subtle, indescribable feeling in her chest as she watched the main character slowly gather clues and piece together evidence. Somehow, the boy seemed oddly familiar.
After staring at him for half a minute, she suddenly asked, “Chi Yaoxing, were you the one who helped guide me out of Area A before?”
She had always assumed the person was a kind, unassuming classmate. Only now, in this quiet moment together, did she realize his build and aura were very similar to the one who had helped her that day.
Perhaps he just didn’t like to talk.
Ji Shu rarely encountered genuine kindness from others, so when someone helped her, she always remembered it carefully in her heart.
But his answer left her a little disappointed.
“…I don’t remember,” he said.
“Oh.” Ji Shu didn’t press further and simply leaned back into the sofa.
The large screen flickered as the little character moved, dialogue boxes popping up constantly, making it a bit dizzying to watch. The air-conditioning was at a comfortable temperature, and the sofa was soft and cozy. Gradually, waves of drowsiness washed over her.
Leaning against the sofa, her head suddenly felt heavy and foggy, and before she knew it, she had fallen asleep.
She didn’t know that only after she had dozed off did Chi Yaoxing turn his face toward her.
He slowly shifted closer to her position, the gray hood sliding back with the movement.
His face was refined and pale, with sharp, defined features, framed by mid-length gray hair styled in a soft fringe. Normally, letting it hang down made him look quiet and withdrawn, but today the hair at the back of his head was tied with an elastic band, a small bundle that couldn’t hide his striking features and cold, sharp brows. A faint, barely noticeable pink scar cut across the bone of his right eyebrow.
He stopped moving quickly, holding the new position. He had only shifted half a step closer, but from there, he could see her face clearly.
Ji Shu slept deeply. Her head was tilted to the side, her black hair cascading over one cheek, her skin delicate and translucent. Long eyelashes rested quietly, and her chest rose and fell evenly with each breath.
Her presence was exactly as he had imagined countless times: serene and cool, yet soft and gentle when her guard was down.
…
Ji Shu always felt that naps were more dream-filled than nighttime sleep.
She dreamed of her early childhood. Seeing those fragmented images, she quickly realized they were not memories of “Ji Shu” but her own.
She had been born at the start of the millennium, shortly after computers became widespread. In elementary school, she would sneak off to the library to use the heavy desktop computers to go online. At that time, she was curious about everything new, wandering through forums and even sending real-name emails to chat with people around the world.
But the good times didn’t last. Dramatic changes at home and bullying at school left her struggling to manage her own life.
In the dream, everything was chaotic and shifting: a hysterical family, a dark and oppressive school life, flickering past her like a carousel, endless and disorienting.
Eventually, she found herself on the pages of a thick book. She ran endlessly across the pages, but could never leave. The words gradually turned into sludge, trying to pull her down. She cried out for help, but no one responded.
She gasped, her face pale, and finally woke up with a lingering fright.
Realizing it had been a dream, she exhaled slowly and rubbed her forehead irritably.
Glancing at the time, she saw that less than half an hour had passed. The gentle breeze from the air conditioner slowly soothed the unrest in her mind.
She instinctively glanced at Chi Yaoxing at the other end, he was still focused on the game, seemingly unaware of her earlier distress.
Instead, a light laugh came from behind her.
“I should’ve brought a few blankets here.”
Ji Shu suddenly sat up and turned around, only to see Lu Mingxi leaning lightly against the lounge doorway, smiling at her.
Seeing that she didn’t respond, he then turned to Chi Yaoxing and asked, “Why are you here today too? Took the wrong medicine or something?”
Chi Yaoxing coldly spat out a single word: “Leave.”
Lu Mingxi didn’t get angry, he seemed to understand that Chi Yaoxing indiscriminately attacked everyone.
…If you didn’t count the antics of his followers, Lu Mingxi was behaving almost unusually normal today.
Ji Shu slowly stood, smoothed her clothes, packed her things, and prepared to leave. Surprisingly, Lu Mingxi stepped aside politely to let her pass, and Ji Shu’s pace quickened in shock.
Not long after she returned to the meeting room, Cheng Qiuyuan also arrived. After greeting her, he began adjusting the equipment. Ji Shu stepped forward to help, and, to her surprise, Chi Yaoxing also turned off his game, walked out of the lounge, and sat at the meeting table.
Lu Mingxi raised an eyebrow. “A truly once-in-a-century sight.”
Chi Yaoxing was used to his shameless antics.
Before the meeting began, Xie Zhoulin finally pushed the door open, carrying a thick stack of documents.
Seeing Lu Mingxi and Chi Yaoxing already sitting obediently at the table, he was momentarily surprised, rare for him, but quickly shifted into work mode.
Not only was Chi Yaoxing present today, but Lu Mingxi also refrained from making jokes or shirking responsibility during the meeting, which made Xie Zhoulin feel a bit off-balance.
Ji Shu felt the same unfamiliarity.
She keenly noticed that the moment Xie Zhoulin entered, the atmosphere in the meeting room shifted.
More precisely, it was the dynamic between Lu Mingxi and Xie Zhoulin that changed. Unlike their usual interactions, today there was a subtle stiffness and friction between them, both sides deliberately avoiding giving each other openings in conversation.
This made Cheng Qiuyuan’s work much heavier. Ji Shu, wanting to help ease his burden, also took on a lot of the transitional tasks during the meeting.
Finally, when it ended, Xie Zhoulin called Ji Shu over and took a newly made student council ID card from the stack of documents, handing it to her.
Ji Shu was surprised: “The membership procedures are already done?”
“You’ve been working here for so long, it’s only right to give you an official identity,” Cheng Qiuyuan said with a cheerful smile from the side.
Ji Shu thanked Xie Zhoulin and turned around, only to see Lu Mingxi standing there with his hands in his pockets, giving her a sarcastic smile as he said, “Congratulations.”
Goosebumps instantly prickled Ji Shu’s skin. She suspected it was Lu Mingxi who had taken the wrong medicine today.
She didn’t respond, instead quietly putting some distance between them. The group went downstairs as usual, and Xie Zhoulin started the car.
Ji Shu noticed that his car had been replaced with a new Pagani. The previous eight-figure car had been swapped without hesitation, but the others didn’t seem the least bit surprised.
This time, she hadn’t even gotten in when Chi Yaoxing beat her to the back seat.
Lu Mingxi, sitting in the middle, stretched a leg to kick him: “Go sit in the passenger seat.”
Chi Yaoxing, hood pulled tight over his head, ignored him completely and calmly closed the rear door with one hand.
The three tall, muscular boys had no choice but to bend and curl their legs, squeezed pitifully side by side into the very narrow back seat.