Di Ran’s fingers froze mid-air, her white, delicate hand hovering over the screen. Her eyes widened, disbelief twisting her expression, and she let out a low, hurried roar: “Forget it! My second uncle—forget it!”
She had been deleted by Li Dongyang on social media, but habit—or curiosity—kept her sneaking into his circle of friends. Non-friends could only see ten updates, yet even that was enough to pierce her heart.
Li Dongyang, the boy who had argued with her for over a month, seemed completely unbothered. He was leisurely vacationing abroad with his girlfriend, hopping from Hawaii to Koh Samui, then to the Maldives. Sun-drenched beaches, turquoise waves, endless smiles—each post a fresh stab in her chest.
A selfie appeared on her feed, captioned:
[The sunshine of Madai is perfect, and the baby says my bronzed skin looks even better.]
A small voice behind her broke her reverie. Di Ran barely registered it, muttering to herself as she twitched her nose in frustration—half from the cold, half from the sting of betrayal.
“Wouldn’t I just slap you… as if?” she whispered.
The boy in front of her raised an eyebrow, a subtle smile tugging at his lips. “Are you talking to me?” she asked, finally lifting her head.
“Student council president,” he said kindly, pointing behind her. “Put away your mobile phone.”
Di Ran turned—and froze. Lu Chuan’s eyes, impossibly dark and bottomless, locked onto hers. His sculpted, angular face was flawless, his posture straight and commanding, like a poplar tree rooted in place.
Without thinking, Di Ran raised her phone and—smack!—hit Lu Chuan. Her own lips curved into a triumphant smile.
Lu Chuan said nothing. He simply sank his face and reached for her phone.
“Wait—” Di Ran raised her arm to block him, using her free hand to edit her social post in a frenzy:
[The little brother on duty at the gate of the Third Middle School is so handsome! Totally my type.]
She knew Li Dongyang had been her friend for over ten years; she’d grown up alongside him, sharing beds and childhood mischief. She could practically feel him peeking at her updates through the screen.
Lu Chuan, however, witnessed everything, his expression dark enough to blot out the sun. “Deleted,” he muttered through gritted teeth.
Di Ran only grinned, shamelessly tapping the post to send it out. “I won’t play anymore,” she said, raising her phone just as… disaster struck.
A thick male voice boomed from behind Lu Chuan: “Mobile phones during school hours? Which class are you from? Lu Chuan, is this your classmate? Why aren’t you in uniform?”
The man was Sun Yaode, the grade director of the Third Middle School. Short, stocky, with a round head and big ears, his eyes were tiny slits, sharp as a lucky cat’s gaze.
Di Ran felt a gentle tug at her sleeve. The handsome boy in the front row whispered, “Director Sun’s coming to confiscate your phone.”
Sure enough, Sun Yaode’s eyes narrowed on her device. “Take it out. Don’t think I can’t see what you’re doing behind me. Lu Chuan, go get it.”
Di Ran blinked, bewildered. The rules at Third Middle School were stricter than she’d imagined. Her stomach fluttered—part confusion, part dread.
Lu Chuan spread his hands calmly. “Give it to me.”
Di Ran tilted her head, a mischievous sparkle in her eyes. “Isn’t that just routine?” she asked tentatively.
“That’s not true,” Lu Chuan replied, voice firm.
Di Ran’s brows furrowed in mock confusion. Just when Lu Chuan thought this girl might respect school rules more than her appearance suggested, she surprised him completely. With a sudden tilt of her neck, she tugged open her sweater collar, placed the phone inside her corset, and smiled sweetly.
“If you’ve got the guts, you can try to take it,” she cooed. “Do you dare?”
Lu Chuan froze. “……”
☆☆☆
Inside the teaching office, Sun Yaode’s eyes narrowed. He demanded Di Ran hand over her phone, but she insisted she hadn’t brought it.
“Do you think I’m blind?” he snapped. “What’s hidden inside your clothes?”
Di Ran shrugged nonchalantly. “Nothing.”
“I said inside,” Sun Yaode pressed.
Di Ran shook her sweater, eyes wide with mock innocence. “Still nothing.”
Sun Yaode jabbed a finger at her. “Don’t mock me—what are you hiding in your corset?”
“Of course… my chest,” she quipped.
Sun Yaode’s patience snapped, and he smacked her lightly on the head.
Di Ran, refusing to cover her head, covered her chest instead. “What are you doing?! Want to touch my—pervert!” she shrieked.
Other teachers in the office turned to see the commotion.
Di Ran seized the moment to retort, but before she could, Sun Yaode restrained her, lowering his voice but keeping it sharp. “How shameless can you be, young lady?!”
Di Ran hung there like a defiant child. “What else can I do? Fire me, then?”
She secretly wished she had been expelled. The grueling 7-to-9 schedule already gave her a headache just thinking about it.
“Go stand by the wall and reflect,” Sun Yaode commanded. “Think I can’t punish you just because I just arrived?”
He retrieved the transfer records sent that morning and ignored her as he returned to his computer, immersed in his game. Di Ran’s feet ached as she shifted weight from one foot to the other. She had stood there over half an hour, but Sun Yaode remained unmoved.
A gentle hand tugged at her sleeve. “Even these two,” someone whispered.
“Thank you…” she started, then paused, realizing it was Di Ran. “Did I tell you to move?”
Di Ran’s phone pressed uncomfortably against her chest inside her corset. She asked cheekily, “I’ve been standing for half an hour. Can I go back? It’s the first day! Treat me like this, and no one will dare transfer here.”
Sun Yaode didn’t look up. “Look at your report card. Penultimate in the grade. This isn’t a place for slacking. No one took care of you in high school, but here, you show restraint or you’ll regret it.”
☆☆☆
At the entrance of Class 8, Zhang Haifeng and Song Bo were punished to stand outside. Huddled together, they whispered about last night’s gaming fiasco—the nanny on strike, arguments over wet nurses, and their rival in the national server.
“The first marshal of the national server restrained me,” Zhang Haifeng muttered. “And he’s better equipped.”
“Don’t make excuses,” Song Bo snapped. “Train more in the arena. Skills matter more than excuses.”
“But no wet nurse in the arena? Xiao Nan’s level—how can I compete?”
“You pay for her gifts and cosmetics already. Don’t complain. She still wants things in-game?”
“She’s my girlfriend. I should provide, right?” Zhang Haifeng argued.
Song Bo groaned. “Do you really take games so seriously?”
Before they could continue, the harsh voice of their math teacher pierced the air. “Stop whispering! Stand properly! Do I need to send you to the teaching office?”
Quickly, they straightened up.
☆☆☆
The first day of school, with its brief winter break, meant homework checks were more perfunctory than serious. The two boys outside remained frozen, silent.
Math teacher Bi Lili’s temper flared as she stormed through the classroom, cheeks flushed, chest trembling. “Do you want to take the college entrance exam like this?” she barked.
The door opened, and a petite girl with short hair stepped in. She glanced at the boys standing outside, muttering, “Tsk tsk, isn’t it cold?”
The boys winked at her. Di Ran, curious, returned the gesture and turned—only to meet Lu Chuan’s steady gaze from the penultimate row by the window.
Provoked, Di Ran pinched her phone between her fingers, turned around, and stuck out her tongue.
Suddenly, she sensed every pair of eyes on her—not just Lu Chuan’s. The back of her neck grew cold.
Bi Lili’s face had turned crimson.
Di Ran hastily pocketed her phone. “Hello, teacher. I just transferred,” she said lightly, pointing at Lu Chuan. “You can ask him…”
The class erupted in laughter. Lu Chuan remained expressionless, indifferent.
The girl at the door raised an eyebrow, lips curling into a smile.
Bi Lili slammed her chalkboard down, sending a cloud of white powder into the air. The laughter was instantly silenced. She pointed at Di Ran, her voice icy. “Out!”
Di Ran frowned. “Why?”
Bi Lili’s eyes narrowed, her voice icy. “Have you done your homework?”
“I… just transferred schools. How could I have done it?”
“The winter vacation homework is issued by the Education Bureau. Every school uses the same workbook. No excuses,” Bi Lili snapped.
Di Ran blinked, caught off guard by such a strict teacher on her first day. Then, with a sly, defiant grin, she declared, “I’m from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I don’t understand a word of what you’re saying.”
Bi Lili’s chalk flew through the air, landing neatly on the desk. She pointed sharply toward the door. “Out.”
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