“Maybe… he picked it up.”

“Picked it up?”

How could he have found it?

“Yeah, right!” Jiang Yufan frowned, following Yue Zhishi into the second floor of the Junior High Division's teaching building. He clattered up the stairs, continuing his interrogation, “Even if he did pick it up, how would he know you were the actual Yue Zhishi?”

Yue Zhishi retorted, “Am I not recognizable enough?”

“That's true…” With his mixed-race features, Yue Zhishi had been one of the most talked-about students when he first enrolled. But Jiang Yufan still found it incredible. “You really scared me just now. When I saw Song Yu wearing that armband, I thought you were done for.”

Yue Zhishi leaned on the handrail, panting. “Was it that serious?”

“How was it not? Breaking the rules on the first day of school and running into a cold bigshot like Song Yu on duty. When he grabbed you, I thought he was going to execute you on the spot.”

They were almost there. Yue Zhishi turned back, shushed him, and quickly entered the classroom.

As luck would have it, the class president was taking attendance. Yue Zhishi tried his best to hold back his heavy panting, standing at the door with his hair curled and sticking up from the run. “Teacher…”

The homeroom teacher, Wang Qian, was a young male teacher who taught Chinese. He could get along well with the students, but he was also merciless when he needed to be strict. Fortunately, Yue Zhishi had always been the model of a well-behaved student—he was never late, never skipped class, never caused trouble, had good grades, and was likable. Teacher Wang didn't give him a hard time. “Come on in.”

But Jiang Yufan wasn't so lucky.

A teasing smile on his face, Wang Qian said, “Isn't this the resident guest of our Class 8's Late Squad?”

“Teacher Wang,” Jiang Yufan rubbed his buzz cut, “I was only two steps behind Yue Zhishi.”

“Right. I think that's a pretty good standard.” Wang Qian clasped his hands behind his back. “From today on, you're only allowed to be two steps behind your deskmate every day. Otherwise, you'll stand in the corner during morning self-study.”

“Huh?” Jiang Yufan's face crumpled like a bitter melon as the onlooking students of Class 8 all burst into laughter.

“What 'huh'? Get in.” After speaking, Wang Qian began to warn the other students. “I'll let the usual minor mischief slide, but all of you better behave during the opening ceremony. If you get caught by the dean of students, I'm not bailing you out. A public execution might be good for you—get famous throughout the school before you move up to senior high. Then your time in junior high won't have been for nothing.”

Everyone was snickering, except for Yue Zhishi, who was still recovering from being out of breath. In a daze, he tried to stuff his schoolbag into his desk, but it wouldn't fit. Only then did he realize there was something in the desk drawer. He reached in and pulled out an exquisite, sapphire-blue gift box.

Strange. He examined it closely.

“Who's this from now? So cool, getting a gift on the first day of school.” Jiang Yufan leaned on his desk and teased in a low voice, “It's good to be handsome.”

“It's not that.” Yue Zhishi glanced up at Wang Qian and began to unwrap the gift box. Inside was an exquisite white fountain pen and a bottle of ink, with a card placed on top. He didn't touch the pen, but simply opened the card, read the words on it by himself, then put it away back in the drawer.

The gossipy Jiang Yufan leaned over. “Which class is she from? That pen doesn't look cheap.”

Yue Zhishi pressed his lips together, as if thinking.

“They won't just dismiss us and let us go home right after the opening ceremony, will they?”

“Probably not. We'll probably have to go back to the classroom. Why?”

“I want to go to Class 11 to return this.”

Everyone in the class stood up, getting ready to head to the school gymnasium. Jiang Yufan couldn't understand Yue Zhishi's honest approach of returning the gift. “No way, Lele. Are you really going to return it? The poor girl will be heartbroken.”

Yue Zhishi was a little hungry. He unzipped his schoolbag, took out a rice bread, tore open the package, and took a bite that was half the bread. He said indistinctly, “If I don't return it, she might assume I've accepted, but I haven't, and that's not right. Besides, I'm only in the third year of junior high. I can't be in a relationship.”

Jiang Yufan looked at him in disbelief. “My god, what kind of good little boy are you? That guy from the class next door went through three girlfriends last semester. Fine, whatever. You'll never understand how a girl feels when she's heartbroken.”

Heartbreak.

Yue Zhishi indeed couldn't feel it, but he weighed the severity of heartbreak against being deceived and became firm in his decision.

“I'll talk to her properly.” Yue Zhishi quickly chewed the bread in his mouth and stood up with the other students. A brand-new medicine box fell out of his bag. He bent down to pick it up, wanting to put it in his pocket, but his school uniform pants pockets were too small and it wouldn't fit. So he tried to tear open the packaging, but the plastic seal was too well-made.

“Let's go, hurry up.” Jiang Yufan gave him a tug.

“Oh, okay.”

The entire student body flooded into the school gymnasium in a mighty torrent. Only after entering did they realize there were no trash cans. Yue Zhishi quickly finished his last bite, folded the wrapper in half, and stuffed it into his school pants pocket.

Peiya School was one of the most famous middle schools in the area. Compared to the score-driven education of the neighboring Jingjian School, which focused solely on grades, this school had a rather Westernized style. The path for many of its students was to study abroad, and there was even a saying that “only half of Peiya's third-year senior high students take the college entrance exam.” In addition, the school was wealthy and could afford to expand its grounds, so the Junior High Division and Senior High Division had never been separated.

With such a massive student body, the annual school-wide opening ceremony naturally became a major campus event. No matter how free and undisciplined they usually were, no mistakes could be made on this day.

The Senior High Division students went in first, sitting in the gymnasium's spectator stands according to their class. Compass stood at the front, directing: “Third-year junior high, Class 6 to Class 11, sit in the center of the floor.”

“Huh?”

“Why is it the Blue Class again?”

“We have to sit on the floor again, sigh.”

The summer uniform for Peiya School's Junior High Division was a light blue short-sleeved shirt, while the Senior High Division's was white. The winter knit vests were also these two colors. Over time, everyone began to use the uniform colors to refer to the junior and senior high divisions.

Everyone looked for their class's spot. Since they hadn't seen each other all summer, the first thing the girls did when they gathered together was to gossip. After all, it was a perpetually popular topic.

“Did you see the Confession Wall last night?”

“No, who was it this time?”

“A second-year junior high student confessing to Senior Song Yu. She wrote a ton, saying she'd had a crush on him for a whole year.”

“Wow, the school grass… So brave.”

“Does our school even have a school grass competition? How come I've never voted?”

“We don't, but Song Yu is basically the acknowledged one. To think she dared to pursue him. I've never seen him close to any girl, not just in the Junior High Division, but not in the Senior High Division either.”

Hearing Song Yu's name, Yue Zhishi felt a little happy, but also a little awkward. His face felt itchy. He ruffled his hair, his eyes darting around as he slowly followed the crowd. The class president organized everyone to sit on the floor. Yue Zhishi sat at the back of the boys' line. The focus of the girls' gossip in front of him shifted from the sensational topic of a second-year junior high girl confessing to a third-year senior high senior to a discussion about just how many school grasses Peiya School actually had.

“Then a fight broke out under the Confession Wall post. Someone said Song Yu has a poker face and is aloof to everyone, and that he's not as good as the Junior High Division's Yue Zhishi. It's killing me, the drama landed right in our own class.”

“What do you mean, 'not as good as'? Lele is really good-looking. Isn't a mixed-race face attractive? And his personality is great too.”

“Someone just said he's too young. But then the argument turned into the Junior High Division and Senior High Division each getting one, so there was no more dispute.”

“Hahaha, true. If you put them in a crowd, they're like those premium game skins you have to pay for. I wonder when they'll stand together for a comparison.”

“Just getting them in the same frame would be tough. They have absolutely no interaction.”

Jiang Yufan perked up his ears and listened to the whole exchange, clicking his tongue in amazement. “Not bad, Little Lele. You're already on par with Song Yu.”

Yue Zhishi was too busy craning his neck, searching the stands for a glimpse of Song Yu, and hadn't heard any of the girls' discussion about him at all. He was a little dazed when Jiang Yufan brought him up. “Huh?”

Who would have thought that the girl diagonally in front of him would turn around just then, her face full of gossip. “Lele, what do you think of Senior Song Yu? His personality aside.”

This was the first time since he started junior high that he had been asked about Song Yu at school.

Yue Zhishi felt his guilty conscience acting up. It was the same feeling he'd had while hiding in the sun waiting for Song Yu. He unconsciously started blinking faster, trying to give an answer that sounded more like a stranger's.

“Senior Song Yu is very handsome, and his grades are very good.”

But in the end, he couldn't resist the urge to be protective. “And I don't think there's anything wrong with his personality either.” Yue Zhishi's tone was exceptionally serious. “He just doesn't like to talk much. Not liking to talk doesn't mean he has a bad personality. Even though he looks a little scary, he's actually a very good person…”

The more the girl listened, the more something felt off. She interrupted him doubtfully, “Wait, how do you know he's a good person?”

As expected, he was terrible at hiding things.

Yue Zhishi was momentarily speechless. Who knew that Jiang Yufan would cut in, “You know, Song Yu is actually a bit better than I thought. He was on duty today, found Lele's nametag, and didn't report it. He even helped him hide it from Compass.”

“For real?”

“A lifesaver.”

“As expected of a great handsome guy!”

The ceremony began. The class president at the front reminded them to be quiet, and the gossip finally ceased. Yue Zhishi breathed a sigh of relief. He'd almost been exposed. Given their level of gossip, if they really knew about his relationship with Song Yu, they would never let it rest.

Every year, the opening ceremony speeches were more or less the same. The leader's speech on stage made his soul leave his body. After a while, it was the Junior High student representative's turn. It was the top female student from their class. Yue Zhishi showed his support by sitting up straight and raising his head, trying hard to listen. But the gymnasium lights were excessively bright, and under their glare, his head gradually drooped again, like a sunflower wilting in the sun.

Maybe it was because he'd eaten the bread too quickly, but his stomach felt a little uncomfortable, as if a ball of cotton was stuck there, unable to go up or down.

Rubbing his stomach, Yue Zhishi stared at a small scuff mark on the toe of his canvas shoe. His vision focused, and the small dot gradually spread and grew larger, like a dark cloud bringing in low pressure. The applause for the end of the speech came from all around, pouring into his ears like boiling water, scalding his chest. Steam seemed to inflate his organs.

A small commotion arose among the students. His throat was dry and itchy, as if a feather was stuck in it. Yue Zhishi lowered his head to clear his throat as a new student representative walked onto the stage.

After he got close to the microphone, a sharp screech of feedback came from the speakers, as if it were an emphatic omen.

The next second, a deep voice came from the uncooperative microphone.

“Apologies.”

Yue Zhishi's head snapped up. He looked at the person on the stage, his chest heaving.

“Good morning, everyone. I am Song Yu from Class 5, Year 3.”

His heart sped up. A pathological acceleration.

Just as those girls had said, Song Yu's good looks were universally acknowledged. But his narrow, defined bone structure, his long, narrow eyes, and the sharp corners of his eyes all gave him an extremely strong sense of pressure and distance.

It was hard to find many traces of emotion on that face.

In contrast, Yue Zhishi's features were soft and tended towards a youthful look, devoid of aggression. His clear, amber pupils were sincere and innocent.

“Today is the first day of school…”

Song Yu's eyes were lowered, his gaze falling on the open folder resting on his forearm. His tone was unhurried. Occasionally, he would lift his head, his gaze serene.

Ever since he was little, Yue Zhishi had loved listening to the sound of Song Yu reading, no matter what it was. But at this moment, something was wrong with him. He clearly wanted to listen carefully to every word, but he couldn't concentrate. The dry, itchy feeling in his throat was becoming more and more obvious.

It was as if his windpipe was being compressed, bit by bit, growing thinner. The airflow was squeezed in the narrow passage, unable to go up or down.

Crap.

This reaction was all too familiar. Yue Zhishi pulled out the packaging he'd been sitting on to check it. The sound of the airflow in his lungs was like a constantly expanding bellows.

He had indeed bought the wrong one. For this brand, the regular bread and the rice bread only differed by a small logo in the bottom right corner; everything else was identical.

Yue Zhishi had a severe wheat allergy. Besides the common clinical reactions of hives and an itchy throat, the most agonizing one was food-induced allergic asthma, which only occurred after significant exposure to the allergen and came on fiercely.

The gymnasium was excessively quiet. All Yue Zhishi could hear was Song Yu's voice and the increasingly distinct wheezing in his own chest.

His first reaction was regret. He regretted leaving his medicine in his desk. Who would have thought that this one time, he would have an allergic reaction.

But this thought didn't last long. The instinct to cry for help came faster. The asthma was draining his strength. Yue Zhishi struggled to lean forward and grabbed Jiang Yufan's arm.

The people around him also noticed something was wrong.

“The new semester signifies a new beginning.”

Standing on stage, Song Yu lowered his eyes and read from his script.

Suddenly, a commotion broke out among the students below the stage, concentrated at the back of a certain class. A few people even stood up, forming a circle. Students from other classes also noticed something and craned their necks to look.

“This will be a breakthrough and a tipping point. The accumulation of the past is waiting to erupt. The turning point is just ahead…”

Song Yu wasn't particularly concerned about what was happening; that was just his personality. But when he casually glanced up, through a gap in the chaotic crowd, he saw someone on the ground—just half of a profile.

“Lele! Are you okay?!”

The dean of students, unaware of the situation, began to step in to maintain order. “Hey, that class, what are you all doing?”

Jiang Yufan knelt on the ground, his tone anxious. “Teacher! Someone's not feeling well!”

The speech from the microphone came to an abrupt halt. A soft thud—the sound of a folder falling—was amplified by the sound system, sounding exceptionally rushed and sudden.

The dean of students turned his head. The stage was already empty. “This is chaos!”

The student from the photography club in charge of recording the whole event stupidly held up the camera, momentarily unsure whether to follow the student representative or to keep filming the empty stage.

For an unexpected incident to occur at an assembly, pausing the speech could barely be considered a normal reaction. But for the representative on the stage to get down without a word…

And for that person to be Song Yu.

This was far from normal.