Hearing the commotion over there, Ji Nian looked up.
She only saw Lu Jinghuai standing sideways, speaking softly to someone nearby: "It's fine."
Ji Nian leaned in for a closer look. "The eraser broke?"
She also glanced at Lu Jinghuai's right hand, covered in chalk dust from wiping the blackboard, making it impossible to see anything clearly.
She tugged at the sleeve of his school uniform, and Lu Jinghuai obediently turned his palm over.
It was just a little red—no actual injury.
"The quality is terrible. Didn’t we just get this recently? And it’s already like this," someone muttered.
A few classmates gathered around, chattering excitedly.
"Look at that crack—it’s brutal! How did a wooden one even end up like this?"
Lu Jinghuai went to wash his hands, so he didn’t join the discussion. On his way back, he passed Ji Nian’s desk and noticed the new, adorably chubby rabbit pen holder sitting there. His expression remained indifferent.
That afternoon, there was a surprise exam, and Lu Jinghuai forgot to bring a pen, so he borrowed one from Ji Nian.
He’d nearly forgotten about it until the next day, when he approached her with an apologetic look. "I accidentally lost that pen."
Ji Nian waved it off. "It’s just a pen, no big deal."
[Wow, rare to see Lu Jinghuai lose something.]
He was meticulous—anything in his care stayed in perfect condition, like the fan and little turtle Ji Nian had given him before, still looking brand new.
"Here, take these as compensation."
Like a magician, Lu Jinghuai suddenly produced a handful of brand-new pens, some of them incredibly cute, topped with fluffy little chicks—some with their eyes blissfully closed, others winking, each expression melting hearts.
Ji Nian tested them out. Not only were they adorable, but they wrote smoothly too—no gimmicks.
"Well, losing that pen was totally worth it."
She unceremoniously swapped out her old, half-dried pens for the new ones, filling the rabbit holder neatly. The fresh set, with their soft, harmonious colors, looked perfect.
Watching the pens fill the holder, Lu Jinghuai reached out and flicked one of the plush chicks, smiling faintly.
For some reason, Ji Nian found the way he played with the round little chick… unsettling.
The system teased: [What, feeling some tension?]
Ji Nian maintained her dignity: [More like he’s petting a swollen, inflamed hemorrhoid.]
The system: [………]
"Oof, bad timing?"
Shen Qingtang returned with a stack of documents, smiling when she saw Lu Jinghuai lingering by Ji Nian’s desk.
Three years had passed, and Shen Qingtang had blossomed into a radiant young woman.
As the protagonist of a "school sweetheart" trope, she was universally adored in S High—no one had better social standing than her.
"Back from the meeting?" Ji Nian propped her chin on her hand, looking up at her.
But there was one downside.
At 1.65m, Ji Nian couldn’t help but envy Shen Qingtang, who had stabilized at 1.72m since last year.
"Yep. They said the arts festival’s coming up, so every class needs to prepare a performance."
The moment Shen Qingtang spoke, even the napping students perked up, crowding around—someone even bumped into Lu Jinghuai in the process.
Lu Jinghuai stumbled sideways, bracing a hand on Ji Nian’s desk, his body leaning close.
Ji Nian’s gaze dropped to his fingers.
[So long…]
She couldn’t help but marvel.
And speaking of long…
Ji Nian guiltily averted her eyes.
"I still remember our freshman-year arts festival play," someone chimed in.
"Lu Jinghuai cross-dressed as the princess, He Xiang played the prince, and they had zero chemistry. The princess looked at the prince like he was her third aunt."
"Right?! But the funniest part was the student council president’s face when they came on stage. The camera zoomed in, and he looked exactly like that ‘monkey unimpressed’ meme—I died laughing!"
"Too bad He Xiang transferred to the math class this term."
"Rumor is S University already offered him a spot."
The conversation quickly derailed.
Shen Qingtang herded everyone back to their seats—class was about to start.
Mentioning He Xiang reminded Ji Nian of how stubborn he’d been about transferring. The teachers had been at their wits’ end, and even her persuasion hadn’t worked.
In the end, she had to use her alternate identity—the "sponsor"—to write him back (with disguised handwriting, mimicking her past life’s script).
Only then did He Xiang agree to switch classes.
But they hadn’t grown apart. They still ate lunch together, and on weekends when He Xiang was busy working, Ji Nian would sometimes help out.
"Deadline’s Friday, guys. Anyone with ideas, come sign up with me."
During homeroom, Shen Qingtang emphasized the arts festival requirement—every class had to submit one performance.
"First prize is an Apple ecosystem bundle, second is a mattress and washing machine, third is a Hu Dayu product gift set."
Someone immediately raised a hand. "Class prez, is there a participation prize?"
Shen Qingtang adjusted her glasses with a pen. "Yep."
"It’s lunch with the principal."
The entire class: "……"
Hard pass.
Enthusiasm plummeted.
The prizes weren’t enticing—most students came from well-off families and didn’t need the items. Winning was about prestige, but losing meant enduring a meal with the principal.
By the deadline, no one had signed up.
Exactly as Shen Qingtang predicted.
"Guess I’m counting on you two now," she sighed, looking at Ji Nian and Lu Jinghuai.
Ji Nian, watching the boys play basketball outside, replied, "I was going to sign up anyway."
Lu Jinghuai, resting his chin on his hand beside her, smirked and echoed Shen Qingtang: "Washing machine?"
Ji Nian nodded, pleased they understood.
"He Xiang’s washing machine broke. If we win second prize, we can replace it for him."
He Xiang’s grandmother, despite the hospital’s best efforts, couldn’t hold on much longer.
With their washing machine broken, he’d been hand-washing her clothes in the cold, his fingers now raw with chilblains.
Shen Qingtang had the same thought when she saw the prize list.
Past rewards were student-centric, like tech gadgets—the mattress and washing machine stuck out oddly.
She suspected Gu Xiuyuan had pulled strings.
Sure enough, everyone immediately connected the washing machine to He Xiang.
So the group quickly decided—they’d compete and clinch second place.
"Only question is," Shen Qingtang mused, "what are we performing?"
If you find any errors (non-standard content, ads redirect, broken links, etc..), Please let us know so we can fix it as soon as possible.
Report