Jiang Sui went to the school garden and indeed saw Qiao Man sitting on a bench.
Though lost in thought without restraint, her back remained elegantly straight, and her crossed legs maintained a graceful curve.
Life doesn’t have that many spectators, but wherever the queen goes, the spotlight follows.
Jiang Sui ambled over, raised his knee to wedge between her legs, forcibly separating her crossed legs.
Qiao Man glanced at him, adjusted her sitting posture accordingly, and didn’t cross her legs again.
Jiang Sui half-knelt before her, pulled out the newly purchased 502 Glue from his pocket, and lowered his eyes to mend her shoe.
Dappled tree shadows, chirping insects and singing birds—this was summer uniquely belonging to the campus.
“Done.” Jiang Sui put away the glue.
Qiao Man shook her foot and frowned: “So ugly.”
Jiang Sui, who was picking at the residual glue on his hand, paused and smiled: “Never learned shoe repair. Sorry to offend your eyes.”
“Weren’t you great at gluing during kindergarten crafts?” Qiao Man’s memory was remarkably sharp. “The teacher asked everyone to glue one flower, but you made ten.”
“Should I explain the difference between mending shoes and gluing flowers? And weren’t nine of those ten flowers taken by you?”
Qiao Man: “I was afraid you’d be labeled a Workaholic Scab by the other children, so I reluctantly kept them for you.”
“Should I say thank you?” Jiang Sui retorted.
“You don’t look like you want to thank me,” Qiao Man sneered, circling back to the shoe repair. “Besides, you clearly know how to fix shoes. When I gave the graduation speech senior year, you repaired my broken high heels.”
“First, your Haute Couture Shoes that took half a year to acquire only lost a diamond. The shoes you’re wearing now have completely separated soles—the difficulty levels are fundamentally different. Second…”
Jiang Sui looked up, sunlight filtering through the leaves illuminating his glass-like pupils.
“You were my fiancée back then, someone about to marry me. Now you’re an ex-wife and stranger. The fact that I’m willing to spend two dollars on glue to help you is already generous enough. Don’t set your expectations too high, okay?”
After Jiang Sui finished speaking, Qiao Man remained silent for a long time.
Not because his reasoning was sound and left no room for rebuttal, but because she suddenly realized they hadn’t bickered like this since deciding to divorce a year ago.
Jiang Sui finally picked off the last bit of residual glue, ignoring his reddened skin, and stood up to sit beside Qiao Man: “The books have been returned.”
He meant the ones Qiao Man had just borrowed from the library.
Qiao Man: “Hmm.”
“Those books…”
“Don’t say anything.” Qiao Man interrupted gloomily, no longer wanting to ask why the school library would carry such shameless books.
Jiang Sui fell silent, then after a moment: “Pfft.”
Qiao Man: “…”
“Tell me what happens next in the plot, so I can prepare in advance.”
Jiang Sui produced a piece of cardboard from somewhere, leaning against the bench as he fanned himself leisurely. Qiao Man caught some of the breeze too, the sweat on her face finally beginning to dry.
Unfortunately, the queen remained ungrateful for such small favors: “Our transaction is complete.”
He had told her many things earlier, and she had reciprocated enough—they were even.
Jiang Sui’s fanning slowed, his expression teasing: “Using me and tossing me aside?”
Qiao Man was still irritated about the ugly shoes and the earlier book mix-up, so she merely cast him a haughty glance upon hearing his words.
Jiang Sui stopped his movements, placing the cardboard into her hands, and stated matter-of-factly, “If you’re the only one who successfully completes the mission and returns, while I’m forever trapped in this novel’s world, do you think both sides of our families would suspect you of murdering and burying your husband?”
“Ex-husband,” Qiao Man emphasized.
“Fine, ex-husband,” Jiang Sui let out a low chuckle, his lowered eyelashes casting a small shadow on his face. The dappled tree shadows shifted across his tall, straight nose bridge—still strikingly handsome.
But his words were utterly unpleasant. “Since you and I are the two biggest villains in this novel, we’ll likely have quite a few interactions later on. Should I cooperate with you then?Qiao Man thought of the “deep connections” between the two supporting characters later in the story, and her expression suddenly turned subtle.
“Why don’t we just stay here together? Being supporting characters isn’t so bad,” Jiang Sui suggested, not noticing her odd reaction as he fake-smiled, his eyes crinkling.
Qiao Man had never intended to abandon him anyway—her earlier remark was purely meant to provoke. Now, faced with his threat, she didn’t feel angry, knowing full well his so-called threats were just casual remarks.
After all, since childhood, this had been their dynamic—half-serious, half-playful.
She handed the cardboard back to Jiang Sui, who took it effortlessly and resumed fanning himself.
“…The next month’s plot all takes place at school. Don’t wander off randomly, or you might not make it back in time when plot prompts appear. Didn’t Bai Xingyu just agree to date you? Oh, I mentioned earlier—Bai Xingyu is the female lead’s name.”
Qiao Man began recalling the storyline.
“In the book, she has a tsundere rich girl persona, acting on whims. She only agreed to your confession impulsively because she saw the male lead in the crowd and noticed he remained indifferent to her being confessed to. Starting from now, in about two hours, she’ll publicly declare your confession invalid and hand you a check as compensation.”
“By the way, there’s another major background element: the male and female leads belong to Jingbei’s Old Money Class, while you’re the nouveau riche from the northwest. You’ve been trying to break into the so-called Old Money circles for years but have never been accepted. After this confession, you’ve offended the circle centered around the male lead and become their laughingstock.”
Qiao Man paused briefly before adding, “Many people at school will mock you too.”
Jiang Sui followed the logic: “So then I turn dark?”
“We’re nowhere near that point yet,” Qiao Man gave him a strange look. “Not only do you not turn dark, you actually find Bai Xingyu straightforward and adorable, falling for her even more devotedly. You buy her breakfast every morning, deliver snacks every evening, and cling to her after class—basically, your love becomes common knowledge.”
Jiang Sui’s expression was indescribable: “That easy to fall in love?”
“It’s a novel—don’t overthink it,” Qiao Man said bluntly.
Jiang Sui pinched the bridge of his nose: “How does she treat me?”
“Does that matter?” Qiao Man countered.
Jiang Sui thought for a moment: “It still matters. This absurd plot is already challenging enough. If she’s giving me the cold shoulder all day, I definitely can’t humble myself to appease her.”
“Don’t give me that. You’ve always been best at humbling yourself to appease people since we were kids.”
Qiao Man glanced at him, noticing the sweat on the tip of his nose, and only then realized the cardboard fan was now completely angled toward her.
Jiang Sui had instead become the one borrowing the breeze.
Qiao Man turned her face away: “She feels quite guilty about causing you to be mocked, so she didn’t say anything.”
Jiang Sui tapped the bench idly with his fingertips: “Guilty, huh.”
“This is the general plot for the next month. I’ll tell you more after a month passes,” Qiao Man finished, then glanced at the sweat on the tip of his nose, “Anyway, if I tell you too early, you won’t remember it.”
Jiang Sui neither agreed nor disagreed, only asking: “Are you very familiar with this novel?”
Qiao Man laughed in exasperation: “Obviously. After all I’ve said, do you think I’m making it up?”
“Not that.”
The usually lazy and carefree man inexplicably slowed his speech, as if pondering something: “I’m just curious. Back in school when everyone else was binge-watching dramas and reading novels, you thought it was a waste of time. Since when did you start doing such time-wasting things too?”
“People change,” Qiao Man replied offhandedly.
Jiang Sui leaned back with his eyes closed, the dappled light filtering through the leaves dancing across his face, occasionally gliding over his prominent Adam’s apple.
He remained motionless; if not for the cardboard fan still waving in his hand, one might think he had fallen asleep.
After a moment of silence, he slowly opened his eyes and looked at Qiao Man again, only to find her already watching him.
Jiang Sui’s Adam’s apple bobbed. It took him a while to speak: “You…”
“Is your current body also twenty years old?” Qiao Man spoke almost simultaneously.
Jiang Sui knew her too well. Hearing this, he suddenly narrowed his eyes and unilaterally declared the conversation over.
Since when did Qiao Man ever listen to him: “Which means you’re only 185 cm tall now.”
“It’s 185.5 cm,” Jiang Sui said expressionlessly.
Qiao Man immediately mocked him: “A full 1.5 centimeters shorter than your future height.”
Jiang Sui: “…”
In everyone’s eyes, Young Master Jiang was someone who went with the flow and didn’t care about anything, the type who would treat a collapsing sky as a blanket.
But his only childhood friend, Miss Qiao Man, knew that while he did go with the flow, he didn’t disregard everything.
At the very least, he cared deeply about his height.
Someone had been extremely picky about food since childhood, remaining half a head shorter than her ever since they met at three years old.
By middle school, Qiao Man had begun developing, taking on a young woman’s figure, while he still maintained a boyish build and face, trailing behind her like an elementary school student every time.
This continued until summer break in ninth grade when he went abroad for three months and returned suddenly having grown significantly taller.
Although his height surged after that, rapidly transforming him into the kind of young man girls would secretly admire, his obsession with height remained forever etched in him.
For instance, during his company’s physical examination two years ago, the doctor measured his height at 186 cm. While he appeared nonchalant on the surface, the next morning he dragged her out of bed at dawn and made her accompany him to the hospital to remeasure his height.
And now, he was only 185 cm… oh, point five.
“How pitiful,” Qiao Man said with exaggerated sympathy, “What were you going to tell me earlier?”
Jiang Sui gave her a lazy glance: “I was going to ask about your upcoming plot developments.”
“And now?” Qiao Man asked.
Jiang Sui: “I just want to sever all ties with you.”
Qiao Man laughed, her expression finally relaxing: “Got any money?”
Jiang Sui took out his wallet and pulled out all his cash.
Qiao Man counted it and frowned: “Why only six hundred?”
“If it weren’t for needing cash to buy many things at school, I wouldn’t even have six hundred,” Jiang Sui said.
Qiao Man directly reached into his pocket.
As her fingers slipped into the thin trousers, her fingertips brushed against his hip bone through the gauzy lining.
Jiang Sui didn’t even lift his eyes, allowing her to fish his phone out of his pocket.
“Lucky this novel world also has WeChat,” Qiao Man quickly entered his usual password, opened the green app to add him as a friend, then returned the phone to him. “Transfer me the money.”
Jiang Sui let out a light scoff, seemingly amused by her boldness.
“Don’t worry, I’m not taking it for free,” Qiao Man raised her chin with an air of nobility. Even dressed in cheap, worn-out clothes, she resembled a proud little goose.
Jiang Sui calmly transferred the money without responding.
“By the way, are you living on campus now?” Qiao Man asked again.
Jiang Sui: “Haven’t you read the novel? Why ask me then?”
Qiao Man fell silent.
As the university where both the male and female leads would choose to attend, Jing Da was naturally no ordinary institution. Those like the female supporting character—poor but admitted through full scholarships due to excellent grades—comprised only two-fifths of the student body.
A small portion were children from influential Beijing families who had direct admission. These individuals either had impressive backgrounds or outstanding academic records, though someone like Gu Hantian, the favored son of heaven, possessed both.
Of course, aside from these two groups, there was another type: those with neither good grades nor Beijing family connections, who had paid exorbitant sums to secure admission—such as the malicious male supporting character before her, Jiang Sui.
His family had spent a fortune to get him into Jing Da not because they expected academic achievements, but in hopes he would infiltrate Beijing’s elite circles during his four years of university. To that end, after the campus merger, they had pulled strings to arrange a dorm room next to the male lead’s.
Unfortunately, on his very first day, he had confessed his feelings to the male lead’s childhood friend.
Although the male lead hadn’t said anything, he treated Jiang Sui with marked coldness. The surrounding students, sharp as tacks, quickly followed suit, and even his previously amicable roommates soon distanced themselves from him.
Qiao Man pondered and pondered, still struggling to imagine how Jiang Sui, who had always been surrounded by followers since childhood, would cope with being ostracized.
“If you don’t want to live there, you don’t have to. Just buy a place off-campus,” she suggested.
The novel’s author was a high school student, likely one without much money, who had conjured up wealthy lifestyles purely from imagination—hence the setting where everyone lived in dorms.
After careful consideration, she realized the male dormitory plotlines were largely glossed over. Him moving off-campus wouldn’t really affect anything.
Jiang Sui lifted his gaze to meet hers, then after a long pause, slowly said, “Forget it. Can’t be bothered to move.”
“Suit yourself,” Qiao Man didn’t press further. “If there’s nothing else, you can go wait in your dorm.”
Jiang Sui looked up: “Wait for what?”
Qiao Man raised her chin imperiously: “I told you, I’m not taking your money for free.”
Half an hour later, Jiang Sui stared silently at the secondhand air conditioning unit and outdoor compressor now occupying his dorm room.
“Buddy, what are you bringing this to school for?” asked a roommate who hadn’t yet distanced himself, curiously approaching. “If I remember correctly, our school has central air conditioning.”
Jiang Sui pinched the bridge of his nose, maintaining emotional composure: “Don’t you think it looks… artistic placed here?”
Roommate: “…” Now that’s what I call an artistic statement, buddy.