On the last day of summer break, a banner welcoming new students hung over Qide’s school gate, marking the true start of the new semester.

Zhao Binlin sipped his soy milk, leaning against a stone pillar in boredom. After waiting a long while, he finally spotted Jiang Wen getting out of the car.

He ran over and jabbed an elbow into his chest. “Wen-ge.”

Jiang Wen leaned in to grab his bag from the car, pushing him away with one hand. “Get lost.”

Zhao Binlin held on tight, jumping in irritation. “Jiang Wen, what’s with the attitude, did you eat gunpowder for breakfast? I’m sticking to you today no matter what!”

A fresh breeze blew past, carrying the scent of osmanthus blossoms. The two of them wrestled their way into school together. Zhao Binlin grinned, dimples showing, pulling him tight by the shoulder, gossiping about the latest rumor he’d heard. “Tell me, what’s the deal with that Mexican mixed-race girl?”

“Don’t know her.”

“What do you mean, isn’t she your girlfriend?”

Jiang Wen raised an eyebrow, his expression cool. “Since when do I have a girlfriend.”

“Someone saw you playing ball at AU, and she was sitting courtside handing you water.”

“What an imagination.” Jiang Wen was getting a little annoyed, pulling his hand away.

That same aloof manner again, as if even if someone threw themselves at him to the ends of the earth, he wouldn’t bother taking it seriously.

Zhao Binlin couldn’t quite let it go, looking him up and down, sarcasm creeping in. “Bro, don’t be so uptight about it — hope your sexual orientation doesn’t end up something your sister has to worry about.”

Walking side by side, tall and lean, carrying a hint of youthful handsomeness, facing into the ten o’clock morning sun, they were undeniably eye-catching. Even in school uniforms, there was something about them that suited this school’s air of privilege.

At the stairwell, the two of them ran into Xi Gaoyuan, who threw his arms around both their necks in a rowdy greeting. “Good buddies, I’ve been waiting forever for you two.”

“What do you need us for?”

Xi Gaoyuan’s cheeks jiggled. “For the sake of our F3 lineup looking sharp.”

“F3? As if you qualify!” Zhao Binlin’s mouth twitched, teasing him. “With that face of yours, don’t you think you’re kind of riding our coattails, me and Jiang Wen?”

“Even the officially recognized handsome guys of Qide Middle School haven’t spoken up, and you dare run your mouth? Right, Number One?”

“Don’t call me that.” Jiang Wen, out of patience, pinched Xi Gaoyuan by the neck and pushed him a distance away. “Both of you, quit riding on me.”

The three of them walked into the classroom, and several people mid-conversation stood up, calling out greetings. Zhao Binlin and Xi Gaoyuan returned the enthusiasm in kind, while Jiang Wen alone stayed unenthused.

They’d all come from excellent families, their households connected through business dealings, having grown up together since childhood — even the styles of their watches were similar. Each of them had older siblings above them, being the most doted-on youngest child in the family, so their lives had gone smoothly, carrying an underlying nonchalance, an indifference toward how they got along with others.

Of them all, Jiang Wen was the coldest. He spoke little, and for people he wasn’t close to, he mostly ignored them, giving no response.

The teacher hadn’t arrived yet, and the classroom buzzed with noise. A girl wearing black-framed glasses in the back stood up, pointing to a stack of papers on the podium. “Everyone, take one each and fill it out, then hand it back to me.”

Jiang Wen hadn’t brought a pen and borrowed one from someone. He leaned over the podium filling out the form, eyes lowered, expression focused.

This should have been an entirely ordinary scene. But when the clean, transparent sunlight fell across his choppy hairline, the girls chattering in the row in front lowered their voices, suddenly self-conscious.

His nickname hadn’t come from nowhere.

Both inside and outside school, boys and girls alike liked to stare at Jiang Wen’s face. His good looks carried a certain androgynous quality, delicate nose, dark brows, long eyes, a cold, exquisite, youthful face — compared to the usual pretty-boy type, “Number One” fit him far more aptly. It came with both a note of regret and teasing — such a face, wasted on a man.

Jiang Wen hated being called that. Usually only Xi Gaoyuan and the others dared to say it, just for fun.

The form only asked for exam scores, graduating school, family contact information — quick to fill out.

While writing, he happened to glance over at another form. A full page of chaotic, wild cursive, the name written with especially forceful, sharp strokes, the two characters utterly unrestrained, as if trying to tear straight through the paper — Feng Ning.

He finished writing, head down, handed in his form, and randomly picked a seat. Zhao Binlin, unable to sit still, tossed his bag onto a nearby desk and went off into the crowd to find familiar faces and mess around.

Amid the chaotic noise, Jiang Wen had his book spread open on the desk, propping his chin lazily and drifting off, when his back was suddenly poked, and a voice rang out.

“Well I’ll be, it really is you.”

Jiang Wen almost didn’t trust his ears. A moment later, his gaze shifted; he turned his head, frowning. “Why are you here?”

Feng Ning had eaten a late-night snack until nearly dawn the night before, hadn’t slept well, and then had been forced up early by Qi Lan this morning. She’d had no choice but to catch a half-hour nap in the classroom. Right now, drowsy-eyed, she was sprawled limply across the desk, red creases pressed into her cheek.

Hearing Jiang Wen’s words, Feng Ning propped her chin on one hand, her expression thoroughly rascally, her tone smug. “I’m here for class. Not allowed?”

Anyone remotely handsome, Feng Ning had a habit of teasing without a hint of shyness.

So she smiled. Her smile was naturally intense and direct, her eyes crinkling into crescents, carrying a scorching warmth mixed with a touch of hunger. “Since we’re clearly fated to keep meeting, why don’t we get properly acquainted? What’s your name, handsome?”

He said nothing.

Having anticipated this reaction, she carried on unbothered with her self-introduction. “I’m Feng Ning. Feng as in ‘meeting too late,’ Ning as in ‘break before bending.’ Remember it, okay?”

He arched an eyebrow, something between a smile and a smirk. “‘Ning’ as in ‘break before bending,’ read in the fourth tone?”

“What about it?”

After a pause, Jiang Wen’s lips curved. “It’s read in the fourth tone.”

“Hm?” Feng Ning found this novel — it was the first time anyone had corrected her pronunciation. Intrigued, she pressed on. “So help me think of an idiom then?”

She hadn’t expected any further response.

But after a few seconds, Jiang Wen shot her a light glance, his eyes carrying a mild contempt, before turning his head back. “Ji quan bu ning — chaos and uproar.”

The homeroom teacher came into class, said only a few words, and announced everyone should head to the small auditorium for the opening ceremony.

The seating was arranged by class, filling the space in a dark, dense crowd. Before things officially began, the large LED screen at the center cycled through profiles of a few outstanding new students.

The shy girl from yesterday sat next to her. She’d been the first to arrive at the classroom that morning, Feng Ning the second, so naturally they ended up seatmates. Meng Taoyu especially liked keeping her head down, even while walking, and generally didn’t talk much to others.

But Feng Ning was good at conversation. She opened up the chat easily, going from a story about fighting over a hairdryer back in the day to comedy comics, chattering away like a stand-up routine without pause, and Meng Taoyu found herself laughing more than once. Just then, a girl with a bob haircut stood a few steps away and called out, “Meng Taoyu, come out with me for a second.”

Meng Taoyu’s expression stiffened. She was silent for a few seconds before hunching her shoulders and standing up.

Feng Ning sat by the aisle, studying the girl’s pale face for a moment. Only after the bob-haired girl called several more times, impatiently, did Meng Taoyu slowly get up and make her way out.

Once she’d gone, there was even less to do. Feng Ning was drowsy but couldn’t sleep. To stay awake, she started listening in on the two people chatting behind her.

“I just ran into Pei Shurou, she looks so mature, and really has that air about her, not at all like a girl our age. Oh, and Cheng Jiajia was actually chatting and laughing with her.”

“No way.” The girl’s voice was full of astonishment. “Cheng Jiajia? Didn’t she used to act all superior, never even nominate Pei Shurou for class beauty, and privately say her hooked nose was mean-looking?”

Another voice cut in mockingly. “Isn’t it obvious — she’s trying to climb the social ladder.”

“How do you mean?”

“Zhao Binlin, Jiang Wen, and Pei Shurou from class seven, those few all hang out together, hardly anyone at school can break into their circle. If Cheng Jiajia has her eye on someone in there, doesn’t she have to get on Pei Shurou’s good side first? You get it.”

“Who’s she after?”

“Jiang Wen, obviously, you know him right? Look, that’s him on the screen right now.”

Feng Ning followed the direction and looked up.

“Jiang Wen’s got so much personality. In middle school he was always cornered on the road by girls confessing, sending love letters, but he never accepted any of them.”

Someone else chimed in, offering more gossip. “Do you guys know, there was this super weird girl in our grade who confessed to him too, god, her family can’t even afford a used car, what was she thinking, going after Jiang Wen?”

The girls lowered their voices, snickering among themselves with sarcastic undertones, a sense of superiority radiating off them. A boring topic, circling back to the same point over and over, chewed and rechewed without ever tiring of it.

Not interested. Feng Ning felt no urge to keep listening.

“So that sharp-tongued little young master’s name is Jiang Wen, huh.” She thought coldly, with a touch of spite, No wonder he’s grown such an awful temper, being coddled by so many people.

The long-winded opening ceremony finally ended after the principal finished speaking, and Meng Taoyu still hadn’t returned by the time it was over. Shuang Yao came to find Feng Ning, and they followed the crowd out.

Jiang Wen’s shirt was tugged from behind; he turned around, and Xi Gaoyuan slung an arm over his shoulder, scrolling through his phone to show him a photo he’d just taken. “Damn, you looked like such a proper little gentleman up there giving your speech just now, tsk tsk, look at that pompous look, all you were missing was waving to your fan club.”

The older generation of the Jiang family had all served in the military, so Jiang Wen had been trained in posture since childhood, disciplined like a soldier on drill. Spine straight, shoulders never slouched.

When he’d gone up to the podium to speak, wearing his uniform with the school emblem pinned to his chest, he’d held the microphone up to his mouth with an air of looking down on the crowd. Below, the freshman girls whispered among themselves, but he remained expressionless throughout, keeping his distance, like the straightest pine standing tall in the winter snow.

Xi Gaoyuan dropped his playful grin and, somewhat theatrically, mimicked the ending of Jiang Wen’s speech. “A person’s life is a life of striving. From this moment on, let us, in the spirit of perseverance, together write a bright future for Qide.”

“Hahahahaha, I’m telling you, Jiang Wen, you’re getting more and more like your dad.” Zhao Binlin, standing beside them, was already doubled over laughing, taking a while to compose himself.

Jiang Wen remained composed as ever, giving a restrained, cold smile. “This is a public place, if you two are going to lose your minds, stay away from me.”

“Number One, you’re so cold, I love it.”

Jiang Wen shot him a light, disdainful glance. “Don’t disgust me.” Looking up again, he happened to catch a playful gaze from nearby.

There were a few people between them. Their eyes met, and Feng Ning raised her right hand, waving it side to side leisurely, mouthing something at him.

Jiang Wen faltered slightly, watching her silhouette disappear into the crowded mass of people. It wasn’t until Zhao Binlin leaned in to shout in his ear that he snapped back, looking around. “What are you zoning out for?”

There was half a second of an almost imperceptible pause before Jiang Wen answered indifferently, “Nothing.”

“That girl, was she cute?” Zhao Binlin discreetly pointed her out, sounding intrigued. “Looks like she’s from the class next door.”

Her silhouette was slender, her arms pale and smooth — his type, pretty and empty-headed.

Xi Gaoyuan had recently gotten a new girlfriend and was deep in the honeymoon phase, not participating in this conversation.

Jiang Wen swept a casual glance and looked away.

“Young Master Jiang, what do you think?” Zhao Binlin pressed.

Jiang Wen answered lazily, in a low voice, “Fine, I guess.” He found himself replaying the scene just now.

—She was calling out his name.

Shuang Yao pulled Feng Ning aside, dragging her to somewhere with fewer people, saying wickedly, “First day of school and everyone else is behaving properly, and there you are flirting around.”

“When did I flirt.”

“Do you like him?”

Feng Ning pretended not to understand. “What?”

“That guy just now.”

Feng Ning turned and, quite shamelessly, winked at her, half-serious. “Nah, I don’t like him.”

Shuang Yao cursed at her. “You little brat, you always get like this right before you’re about to mess with someone.”

“Come on, let’s eat, I’m starving.”

Right after lunch break, in the height of summer, the sun outside remained brutal. Feng Ning woke up to find the dorm empty — she wasn’t sure if her roommates hadn’t come back or had already left. Yawning nonstop, she wandered drowsily to the classroom and saw, at her seat, a cluster of boys and girls crowding around, taking photos with their phones.

After three or four seconds of observation, Feng Ning finally realized it was Meng Taoyu at the center of the circle.

She pulled out her own phone too, adjusted the angle, and snapped a few pictures of the group. Then she walked toward her seat, forcing her way straight through the crowd.

Amid the mocking laughter, Meng Taoyu had grabbed a tissue and was bending over, wiping a stain of spilled milk off Feng Ning’s chair.

“What happened here.” Feng Ning frowned deeply, pulling Meng Taoyu’s hand away. “That’s not a light hit, who’d you offend?”

Meng Taoyu’s lip was split at the corner, looking dazed, as if stuck, shaking her head at her, forcing a smile.

Ignoring the subtly curious looks around her, Feng Ning bent down and helped gather up Meng Taoyu’s scattered books and stationery, brushing off the dust, pulling her to sit down together.

The onlookers hadn’t left yet, comparing the “trophies” they’d just photographed. Only, with someone new cutting in, the mood had cooled somewhat.

Feng Ning didn’t mind being watched in the slightest. Facing the pointed looks, she showed no discomfort at all. Feeling a bit thirsty, she picked up her water bottle for a sip, then glanced sideways, genuinely and sincerely confused. “Why’s everyone standing around at my desk?”

For a moment, expressions varied, until someone couldn’t help but ask, “Who are you?”

“I’m Feng Ning. Feng as in ‘meeting too late,’ Ning…” She screwed the cap back onto her bottle, pausing. “As in ‘chaos and uproar.'”

She licked a drop of water off her lip and said, half-seriously, “Nice to meet you.”

The person choked, caught off guard into laughter.