RHITICSG 04

Chapter 4

When class ended, Jiang Jian lay down on his desk and fell asleep, completely forgetting about telling Luo Shuxin to read the note after class.

His entire afternoon was excruciatingly boring. Without his phone, uninterested in the lecture, he dozed off for a bit—and ended up oversleeping, only to be yanked awake and scolded by the English teacher.

The English teacher was an older man with a receding hairline named Tan Songkang. He always wore a stern expression, but his teaching skills were excellent and he was genuinely responsible. In private, students affectionately (and cheekily) called him “Kangkang.”

Originally, Tan Songkang wanted to go through the usual routine: after waking Jiang Jian, he fixed him with a glare and asked which problem they had just gone over.

Jiang Jian scratched his fluffy curls—his hair looked like a little poodle’s—and squinted around the room in a daze.

A few friends nearby were desperately trying to give him hints, but since he’d taken out his contact lenses while napping, he couldn’t see the board clearly.

Tan Songkang’s face flushed with anger.
“Can’t answer, huh? If you can’t answer, you’re doing three extra papers tonight! I heard from Teacher Dai that you haven’t turned in last month’s assignments either!”

Jiang Jian: “…”

That was brutal.

Without caring much about familiarity, Jiang Jian used his leg in a cast to nudge Luo Shuxin lightly under the desk.

He couldn’t see from afar, but his deskmate was close enough.

Luo Shuxin’s pen-twirling motion paused. Jiang Jian could almost feel the two seconds of inner struggle.

Then the pen stopped spinning completely—Luo Shuxin circled a question number on his paper.

Jiang Jian read the number out loud.

Tan Songkang: “…”

Tan Songkang: “Do you think I’m blind?—Stand up!!”

He slammed a hand on the new student’s desk.

Luo Shuxin stood up immediately—and towered. Kangkang wasn’t particularly tall; Jiang Jian was already a head taller than him, and Luo Shuxin was another half a head taller than Jiang Jian.

Height dominance: achieved.

Tan Songkang: “…”

Tan Songkang: “Don’t think you’ll get special treatment just because you’re a transfer student! You think you’re helping him? You’re hurting him! Today you help him by giving him the question number—what’s next, helping him on the college entrance exam?!”

Luo Shuxin: “We’re not that close.”

Tan Songkang: “?”

Tan Songkang: “Oh, so if you were close, you’d cheat for him?! You’d break the law for your buddy?!”

A girl in front suddenly snorted, unable to hold back. She clamped a hand over her mouth, her shoulders shaking with laughter—who knew what exactly set her off.

Tan Songkang: “You’ll stand for the rest of my class!”

He gave Luo Shuxin a fierce scolding, then turned to Jiang Jian, fuming so hard his chest hurt. But Jiang Jian was balancing like a flamingo on his cast leg—he couldn’t exactly punish him physically.

“You sit down for now,” Tan said through gritted teeth. “But remember this—next time I catch you sleeping in English again, I’ll count all your offenses together!”

Jiang Jian sat back down. Tan wasn’t finished. He pointed at Luo Shuxin and told Jiang Jian,
“Remember this well—he’s being punished because of you!”

The girl in front couldn’t hold it anymore—she burst out with a laugh that sounded like a goose honking.

She ended up standing for the rest of the class too.

Tan Songkang’s original plan was to make Jiang Jian feel guilty—since he couldn’t punish him physically, at least he could hit him with psychological guilt.

But Jiang Jian felt no guilt whatsoever. Barely twenty minutes later, Luo Shuxin saw the curly-haired boy resting his cheek on one hand, pretending to nap again.

Luo Shuxin: “…”

He suddenly felt a bit of regret.

After English class, several classmates gathered around Jiang Jian to “console” him—though the consolation only lasted one sentence before turning into random chatter.

The one who truly suffered was Luo Shuxin; Jiang Jian’s “sympathy” was purely symbolic.

Shao Xing, however, found himself suddenly more fond of Luo Shuxin.

As a devoted face-con (someone who judges by looks), Shao Xing had already had a good impression of him. Now that he saw Luo Shuxin was also loyal and decent, his goodwill skyrocketed.

He leaned close to Jiang Jian, whispering about whether they should ease off on warning Luo Shuxin—maybe just a verbal reminder instead.

But Luo Shuxin was sitting right beside them, so Shao Xing’s whisper was as faint as a mosquito’s buzz. Jiang Jian couldn’t hear a thing.

Jiang Jian: “Speak up, did a cat steal your tongue?”

Shao Xing: “Wait—I’ll text you on WeChat!”

Jiang Jian: “Oh sure, and send it for His Highness the Crown Prince to read too?”

Shao Xing: “…”

Sometimes his childhood friend really seemed like an idiot.

Using his injured leg as an excuse and “unrepaid favor” as leverage, Jiang Jian somehow got Shao Xing to run out during the ten-minute break to buy him snacks and a bottle of Coke.

Shao Xing came back with less than a minute before the bell, panting like a dying dog. He threw the snacks and Coke onto Jiang Jian’s desk and flipped him the middle finger in silent protest.

As Shao Xing collapsed into his seat, Jiang Jian resumed chatting with the front-desk classmate, and at the same time, he stole a glance at Luo Shuxin.

Luo Shuxin seemed like an island of calm in a noisy marketplace—no matter how lively Jiang Jian got, nothing seemed to disturb him.

The earlier physics test paper was already finished; now he was working through math exercises, his neutral pen making a steady scratch-scratch sound against the paper. His notes on the scratch paper were neat and precise—each number, even a simple “12345,” carried a strange kind of aesthetic balance.

Jiang Jian thought about his own scratch paper—always looking like chicken scratches, illegible to anyone but himself.

The next teacher had already entered the classroom, and the classmate in front turned back around, sitting upright.

Jiang Jian took a bottle of Coke from the pile Shao Xing had brought back, placed it in the middle of their shared desk, and then nudged it across the “border line” with two fingers—pushing it slowly into Luo Shuxin’s territory.

When the teacher walked in and began the opening remarks, Luo Shuxin’s pen didn’t even pause.
But when the can of Coke slid lightly toward him, he did stop writing and glanced at Jiang Jian.

The neutral pen spun once between his fingers — as if he were waiting for Jiang Jian to speak.

Meeting Luo Shuxin’s gaze, Jiang Jian suddenly felt a bit guilty for no reason.

“A thank-you gift,” Jiang Jian said, enunciating clearly, even unconsciously straightening his back, trying to sound righteous.

He prided himself on being someone who distinguished kindness from grudges — Luo Shuxin had been punished because of him, after all.

But whatever look Luo Shuxin had a moment ago disappeared instantly. Something about those two words clearly displeased him — his expression went cold in an instant.

He pushed the Coke back across the desk with his pen and said flatly, “No need.”

Then he lowered his head, finished the last few lines of his draft neatly, wrote down the answer, and started listening to the lecture.

Jiang Jian: “…”

Fine! If you don’t need it, then you don’t need it — what’s with the attitude?!

What, you think my money grows on trees? Don’t drink it then! I’ll drink it myself!

Fuming, Jiang Jian grabbed the Coke can and popped it open with one finger—

He’d completely forgotten that Shao Xing had sprinted all the way back from the shop.

With a loud pop!, the Coke exploded — splattering not only his own desk, but also Luo Shuxin’s and even the back of the classmate sitting in front of them.

Jiang Jian: “…”

Teacher: “…………”

Well, at least his injured leg saved him — no teacher had the heart to make a limping student stand outside as punishment.

By dinnertime, Jiang Jian was still sulking.
According to Shao Xing, the whole class had turned to watch his stunned face the moment he cracked open the can.

For a sixteen- or seventeen-year-old, humiliation might as well be death…

By now, most students had gone for dinner, leaving only him, his deskmate, and a few others munching on biscuits while doing exercises.

Luo Shuxin was still scribbling away at problems. Jiang Jian, meanwhile, lay face-down on the desk, his school uniform pulled over his head — pretending to nap, really just playing dead.

The September sun was still blazing hot, and of course his seat was right next to the window. With the uniform over his head, he was practically suffocating.

Then, all of a sudden, he sensed his deskmate stand up — and move closer toward him.

It was a strange feeling. With his head covered, he couldn’t see, but he could feel Luo Shuxin leaning over toward his side.

Jiang Jian instinctively imagined him bending down to check whether he was really asleep — his face probably so close their hair would almost touch. He could even feel something lightly brushing against his hair.

“What are you doing?!”

Feeling his personal space invaded, Jiang Jian yanked off the uniform, ready to explode — only to see Luo Shuxin’s upper body stretched across him, reaching for the curtain.

Jiang Jian: “…”

Luo Shuxin said calmly, as if it were the most natural thing in the world: “It’s too sunny.”

Jiang Jian: “…”

If the sunlight hit Jiang Jian, then obviously it hit Luo Shuxin too.

For a moment, their eyes met — Jiang Jian awkwardly rubbed at his face, self-conscious.

His hair was a mess from the uniform, his face flushed red, sweat rolling down his cheeks.

Meanwhile, Luo Shuxin — though he claimed it was “too sunny” — had only a faint sheen of sweat on his forehead. His skin was still pale and cool-looking, completely unaffected.

…What a waste, Jiang Jian thought darkly. Too bad this jerk missed out on the Jiangshui No.1 High military training.
He suddenly wanted to know if this guy would still look so smug with skin tanned dark brown.

Luo Shuxin sat back down, his neutral pen gliding smoothly across the English test paper. He scanned the options once and circled the correct answer.

After finishing two problems, he suddenly reached for the bag hanging on the side of his desk.
From inside, he pulled out a pack of tissues and placed it on Jiang Jian’s desk.

Jiang Jian: “…”

Jiang Jian: “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Luo Shuxin didn’t respond — just kept doing his exercises.

Jiang Jian wanted to push it back, maybe even throw in a cool, “No need!” of his own —

—but right now, he really did need it. Sweat was running down his neck; it was unbearable.

The tissue pack had a little Strawberry Bear printed on it.

Jiang Jian, still stewing, hated the sight of that bear on principle.

He snatched the pack, pulled out a tissue, wiped his face roughly, then grabbed his crutch and started toward the door.

Strictly speaking, at Jiangshui No.1 High, “after school” meant after evening self-study. But today was special — since the new semester had just started for the first years, the second years got lucky. Evening self-study was optional today, so a lot of day students were going home after dinner.

So in this case, “after school” meant dinnertime.

Normally, Jiang Jian wouldn’t have wanted to go out — hobbling around ruined his campus heartthrob image — but before leaving for dinner, Shao Xing had told him, “Remember to meet in the grove later.”

Jiang Jian pushed himself up on his crutch. His leg had gone numb from sitting too long, and he almost fell — managing to steady himself just in time. The movement drew a glance from Luo Shuxin.

Jiang Jian: “What are you looking at?”

Luo Shuxin: “Where are you going?”

Jiang Jian: “None of your business.”

Luo Shuxin: “The grove?”

Jiang Jian: “?”

Luo Shuxin calmly took out a piece of paper and a hundred-yuan note.
“Whatever it is, just say it here.”

Jiang Jian: “?”