“He somehow got my contact info and keeps messaging me every day—it’s driving me crazy,” Pei Lezhi said, pursing her lips. “And he says he’s liked me for a long time. When he heard I came back to the country, he was really happy.”
Lin Zhao froze for a moment, then couldn’t help but laugh.
Pei Lezhi glared at her. “What’s so funny? Hilarious, is it?”
“It’s funny—so funny,” Lin Zhao said, stifling her laughter and rubbing her stomach. “Someone like Gu Zhuoxiao, with a screw loose in his head, actually says that? I bet he’s just bored and looking for someone to pass the time with.”
Lin Zhao’s laughter faded as she patted Pei Lezhi on the shoulder. “He probably says the same to everyone else too.”
Pei Lezhi rolled her eyes. “Of course I know. Don’t take me for a fool.”
She wouldn’t believe a word from Gu Zhuoxiao.
These past few days, Lin Zhao had been nearly worked to death by Teacher Zhou.
Everyone else could relax after finishing homework, but she had extra assignments and endless notes to copy, forcing her to stay up until late every night.
Worse, no matter how late she stayed up or how carefully she worked, Teacher Zhou would always find mistakes the next day and make her redo them.
Exhausted, Lin Zhao’s dark circles were heavy, her usual sharp energy buried under fatigue. During class, the teacher’s lecture sounded like a dull buzz; her eyelids were heavy, barely able to hold her head up, her hand weakly holding a pen that barely moved on the textbook.
Teacher Zhou was at the blackboard, speaking with spit flying, while Lin Zhao rested her temple in her hand, eyes squinting to slits, barely conscious.
Someone gently poked her shoulder. Lin Zhao thought it was Xu Ning and mumbled, “Stop, let me sleep a bit, just a little bit.”
Next second, a cold, sharp voice exploded beside her: “Do you want to sleep until the end of class?”
Lin Zhao jolted awake, the pen in her hand clattering onto the textbook.
She looked up and met Teacher Zhou’s stormy face, standing beside her desk, brows furrowed. The classroom went silent, dozens of eyes fixed on her.
“You know where we’re at?”
Lin Zhao hurriedly lowered her head. Her book was still on the previous page; glancing at Xu Ning’s textbook, she quickly flipped pages and forced herself to reply, “Up to… up to here.”
Teacher Zhou’s temper flared to the limit. She slammed her hand on the desk, shaking the books, voice rising sharply: “Lin Zhao! Who are you trying to fool? Came to school to sleep? If you want to sleep, just move your home into this classroom!”
“Old habits die hard—just behaved for a couple of days and now you’re messing around again! Exams are coming. If you screw them up, you’re out! Our class doesn’t have room for a Buddha like you!”
Lin Zhao muttered, “I understand, Teacher. I promise it won’t happen again.”
Seeing her attitude was still decent, Teacher Zhou swallowed the rest of her scolding and snorted coldly: “Pay attention in class. If I see it again, you’ll stand outside listening.”
She turned back to the podium.
Finally, class ended. Lin Zhao immediately leaned on her desk, burying her head to catch some sleep. But just as she closed her eyes, Teacher Zhou called: “Xu Ning, come here.”
Lin Zhao’s drowsiness vanished instantly.
Xu Ning walked up to Teacher Zhou, whose expression softened, and instructed gently: “Go downstairs to the storage room and bring a stack of lesson plan books from the back cabinet.”
“Those books are heavy. One person might not be able to carry them,” Teacher Zhou looked around; most students had left, few remained. She raised her voice: “Who’ll help?”
Lin Zhao instinctively raised her hand high, worried Teacher Zhou wouldn’t see, shouting: “I’ll go!”
Teacher Zhou glanced at her, displeased: “You’re not this enthusiastic about studying, but you’re eager to run errands.”
Despite the scolding, no one else responded, so she waved her off: “Go quickly, don’t delay class.”
Lin Zhao didn’t care, walking up beside Xu Ning, following her down the hall.
The heavy clouds pressed the sky low; no sunlight broke through, the wind cold against their arms.
The corridor was silent, their footsteps echoing.
Unable to stand the silence, Lin Zhao started chatting: “Wow, what a nice day today, Xu Ning.”
Xu Ning glanced outside at the gloomy sky. “It’s cloudy.”
Lin Zhao choked on her words, then awkwardly tried again: “Cloudy is nice, very comfortable. Don’t you think weather like this makes your mood good?”
“I don’t.” Xu Ning remained calm, showing no reaction.
Lin Zhao stepped closer, feigning a pitiful expression: “Earlier, when the teacher came, why did you call me? I got scolded—it hurt my feelings so much.”
Xu Ning cast her a sidelong glance, speaking softly: “I called you because you were sleeping too soundly to wake.”
“Oh, I misunderstood.” Lin Zhao scratched the back of her head, secretly relieved.
She couldn’t resist asking: “Why did the teacher ask you? There are so many other students.”
Xu Ning pursed her lips, didn’t answer, continuing forward.
Lin Zhao didn’t press.
“This storage room is so far… we’ve been walking forever,” she muttered.
“Lin Zhao.” Xu Ning suddenly stopped and called her name.
“What’s up?” Lin Zhao raised an eyebrow jokingly. “Am I dazzling you with my charm?”
“You don’t have to speak if you have nothing to say,” Xu Ning replied calmly, piercing through her joke.
“Do you find me annoying?” Lin Zhao pouted. “I don’t mind your quietness—you mind my chatter instead?”
Though complaining, she wasn’t angry; she found Xu Ning quite cute.
Xu Ning ignored her and walked on.
Lin Zhao followed, muttering constantly.
Soon, they reached the storage room door.
The old wooden door had peeling paint, exposing dark wood underneath; a rusty iron lock hung on the handle.
Xu Ning took the key from Teacher Zhou, inserted it, and turned gently. Click—the lock opened.
She pushed the door open. A rush of dust hit Lin Zhao, making her cough violently, tears streaming.
The storage room was pitch-black; only faint daylight at the door lit the floor. Inside, old desks and chairs, discarded lesson plans, and dusty books were piled haphazardly.
Xu Ning reached for the switch on the wall. The dim light flickered twice and went out.
She tried several times; the old wiring was dead.
Lin Zhao stepped forward, but Xu Ning gently grabbed her wrist. Her fingers were cool, the grip light.
“Wait outside,” Xu Ning said in the dark.
“Why?” Lin Zhao was startled.
“You’re afraid of the dark, aren’t you?”
The words left Lin Zhao speechless—she had shot herself in the foot.
She pressed her lips together, feigning calm, and coughed lightly: “But you’re here, aren’t you?”
The room went silent for a moment.
Xu Ning’s fingers paused on the doorframe. She glanced at Lin Zhao, eyes steady, emotionless.
After a few seconds, Xu Ning spoke slowly: “Do you talk to everyone like this?”
Caught off guard, Lin Zhao blinked, surprised. “No… I don’t talk like this to others.”
She was always blunt and wild, distant from others, never speaking like this.
Xu Ning didn’t respond, turning her gaze back to the dark storage room. “It has nothing to do with me.”
Lin Zhao: “?”
She was utterly dumbfounded, mouth agape, feeling frustrated. She thought she had been decent to Xu Ning, yet received only a casual: “It has nothing to do with me.”
Anger flared in her chest, leaving her choked and stifled.
The two stood at the door, the air heavy and suffocating.
Finally, Lin Zhao calmed herself, suppressing the anger. Worried, she asked: “Are you really okay going in alone? It’s dark, you could bump into something.”
Xu Ning gave a soft response and stepped into the pitch-black room.
At that moment, hurried footsteps sounded from the other end of the corridor, fast and urgent.
Lin Zhao turned to see, but before she could react, a tremendous force struck her lower back. She flew forward uncontrollably, crashing into the storage room.
She collided with a warm body; Xu Ning, unprepared, lost her balance, falling hard on her back with a thud.
Lin Zhao followed, landing atop Xu Ning, bodies pressed together, hot breaths mingling against each other’s necks.
“Ugh…” Xu Ning groaned. Sharp pain shot through her back, making her fingers curl, but she bit her lip to stay silent.
Lin Zhao’s head spun, forehead hitting Xu Ning’s shoulder. She didn’t care for herself, quickly trying to get up, fumbling to check on Xu Ning.
“Xu Ning! Are you okay? Where did you hit? Does it hurt?”