It seemed someone nearby said, “Don’t do this, the teacher’s about to come.” The group finally scattered, some walking out, some heading back to their own seats.

After a moment of silence, Meng Taoyu, sitting against the wall, said quietly, “Sorry, your desk got dirty too because of me.”

Feng Ning didn’t ask anything. She freed a hand and patted her arm, a small gesture of comfort.

The girl from the row behind stood up and tossed a note onto her desk, torn from a homework notebook, reading: “What did you even do to offend this group of people? Just go apologize. They won’t keep bothering you forever.”

The bell rang for class, and the teacher walked in. Meng Taoyu, without a word, tucked the note away, resting her head on her arms, pressing down onto the desk.

Partway through class, the teacher came by once to ask what had happened. Feng Ning, sitting at the aisle, quietly explained that she wasn’t feeling well; the teacher didn’t press further.

Once afternoon classes ended, most of the class had already left. After a while, Meng Taoyu lifted her head from her arms.

Outside, sunset clouds hung on the horizon, and the classroom was tinted a warm red. Feng Ning was absorbed in a problem set.

“You… haven’t left yet?”

Feng Ning tilted her head, loose strands tucked behind her ear catching the sunset light, looking very gentle. She kept writing as she spoke. “The cafeteria’s crowded right now, I’ll go in a bit.”

Meng Taoyu was still lost in thought. Feng Ning reached one hand into her drawer, dug around for a while, and pulled out a bottle of AD calcium milk, handing it to her. “Here, as promised.”

Meng Taoyu was a little overwhelmed, stunned for a few seconds before saying softly, “Thank—thank you.”

Feng Ning checked the time and started packing up her things. “Want to go eat together?”

“If you walk with me, they’ll see.” Meng Taoyu hunched her shoulders, lowering her head. Before she could finish, her chin was suddenly tilted upward.

Feng Ning tore open a bandage and, leaning in close, carefully pressed it over the broken skin, grinning mischievously. “Seen by who? I fear nothing and no one.”

At this hour, the cafeteria didn’t have much food left. Meng Taoyu, having come up from Qide’s own middle school, knew the area well. She led Feng Ning out through a side gate. This wasn’t a bustling area, but two lively food streets nearby were full of everyday warmth, popular with students looking for a quick bite outside campus.

The summer evening still held onto its heat as they strolled along. Feng Ning idly plucked a blade of grass from a flower bed and started weaving it as she walked, sharing bits of her middle school days. Meng Taoyu trailed obediently beside her, gradually relaxing.

“Feng Ning, do you… know Jiang Wen?”

“Hm?” Feng Ning thought back for a second, then realized. “What about him.”

“This morning, I saw you greeting him.” Meng Taoyu mustered up her courage, glancing at her. “It’s just… you’d better not get too close to Jiang Wen.”

Seeing Feng Ning stay silent, she worried she’d upset her, and rushed to explain. “I don’t mean anything by it, it’s just, it’s just—”

“It’s fine, take your time.” Feng Ning pinched the woven grass between her fingers, flattening it, and once it held its shape, handed it over happily. “Here, a rose. For you.”

Meng Taoyu froze for a couple of seconds before taking it, at a loss. Her lips moved, then she quickly lowered her head, not wanting Feng Ning to see the tears suddenly welling in her eyes. “Thank you.”

Her eyes drooped slightly at the corners, her cheeks a little puffy, looking as fragile as an early-wilted flower bud — pitiable in a way that made you want to both bully and protect her.

Feng Ning, helpless, wiped away her tears with a finger, then pinched her cheek, saying solemnly, “Classmate Meng, you’ve said ten sentences to me, and nine of them were thank you. New rule: from now on, only one thank-you allowed per day.”

Meng Taoyu’s whole face flushed red, finally breaking into a smile through her tears. Ever since the start of ninth grade, she hadn’t felt this kind of warmth in a very, very long time. In the quiet that followed, she stared at the woven grass rose and said slowly, “I wasn’t bullied for no reason.”

Feng Ning didn’t interrupt, listening seriously.

“Second year of middle school, I bumped into someone by accident in the cafeteria. A few days later, that person confessed to me in class. I turned him down. After that… I still ended up targeted by the girls who liked him.”

Gossip spread fast. Girls in class gradually took to talking about her. After being bullied so much, Meng Taoyu had grown numb to it.

Only, no one expected that her lack of resistance, her lack of complaint, that resigned, wooden demeanor of hers, would look like a form of defiance to her tormentors. Long after that boy had stopped pursuing her, the timid, increasingly withdrawn her had become something the group simply used for entertainment.

Feng Ning found it absurd, frowning. “The one who confessed to you was Jiang Wen?”

“No, no, how could it be, you’ve got it wrong.” Meng Taoyu looked briefly embarrassed, saying carefully, “He… he’s supposed to be close with Jiang Wen, they’re in the same class, they play ball together often, very popular at our school.”

“I’m popular too!” Feng Ning suddenly grinned slyly, deliberately changing the subject. “I get it now, you’re worried I’ll go after Jiang Wen and get myself into trouble, right?”

Meng Taoyu, sure enough, looked horrified, lifting her face. “Are you seriously going to go after Jiang Wen?!”

“Hahahahaha, I’m just messing with you, go look in a mirror, look at that end-of-the-world expression on your face.”

Feng Ning’s ponytail was tied up high, and she looked especially beautiful when she smiled, carrying a unique charm. It always brought to mind morning glories climbing a trellis — whether under the blazing midday sun or in the cool of an early summer dawn, they always bloomed, filling the window. One cluster after another of sweet, vivid flowers, giving off a sense of comfort and contentment.

“Oh…” Meng Taoyu looked at her and suddenly forgot what she’d meant to say, standing there in a daze like someone lost in meditation.

Feng Ning tugged her arm. “Come on, let’s eat, I’ve still got something to do in the classroom after.”

“Huh, what thing, self-study?” Meng Taoyu asked half a beat behind. “Can I come with you?”

The whole way, it was all about food. There were porridge shops, barbecue stalls, western restaurants — Feng Ning carefully picked where to eat, saying casually, “I make some side money copying notes for other people, come along anytime if you’re free.”

Life needed a bit of ceremony sometimes. New semester, fresh start — even someone as stingy as Feng Ning, after consulting Meng Taoyu, decided to splurge and picked a place that looked like it catered to the well-off, determined to treat herself well for once.

As she pushed the door open, she was thinking to herself that it was a good thing Shuang Yao hadn’t come along, or today’s bill would definitely have gotten murdered — she wouldn’t even be able to split it fairly.

Most of the people inside were students, business bustling, heads everywhere. Meng Taoyu, nervous, nearly tripped. Luckily Feng Ning’s reflexes were quick and she steadied her in time.

The person who’d been stepped on turned first to look at Meng Taoyu, then at Feng Ning behind her, and softened their annoyed expression slightly. “Watch where you’re walking, girl.”

The boy’s gaze followed them for a moment before Zhao Binlin asked, “You know that person?”

“Who?”

“The taller one.”

“Not that well, ran into her a few times out with friends. She was the school beauty at my old middle school.”

Zhao Binlin made a sound of interest and asked, “Which school were you at before?”

“Ugh, some rundown school in the urban village, you definitely wouldn’t have heard of it.” Wang Shao, noticing his curiosity, went along with it. “But she’s pretty famous at our school, we weren’t in the same class, but even I know her.”

Among this group of wealthy young men, Wang Shao was the only “commoner.” He usually didn’t hang out much with them, but because he’d known Xi Gaoyuan a bit back in elementary school, they occasionally played games together, or got called in when they were short a player for basketball.

Jiang Wen leaned forward, elbows on his knees, one earbud in, watching NBA highlights, showing not the slightest interest in his surroundings.

“What about her? Tell us.” Zhao Binlin seemed genuinely interested, and the other two at the table looked over too.

“Well.” Given the rare chance to actually contribute to the conversation, Wang Shao took a moment to think it over. “In middle school, a buddy of mine was in her class. Once he was playing with a lighter and deliberately burned her hair. Pretty messed up, right? Most girls would’ve run crying to the teacher. But you know what she did? She went to the school supply store at the gate, bought a big pair of scissors, came back, and right in front of the whole class, chopped off the burnt ends of her own hair.”

“Wow, that’s fierce!”

“Yeah, seriously, everyone was stunned, watched her slap the cut-off hair right down on the desk. And I swear, my buddy was a whole head taller than her, and she grabbed him by the collar, yanked him right up close, and while smacking his face, she was laughing, saying, ‘You like playing with fire so much, here, take this, go burn it slowly.'”

Wang Shao told it with great animation, and Zhao Binlin looked thoroughly stunned. “Then what happened?”

“Then, my buddy chased after her for three years.” Wang Shao’s tone carried a complicated note of nostalgia. “That guy had it bad, lovesick something fierce. For a while he’d secretly follow her home after school every day, like he was possessed.”

Having heard the whole story, Xi Gaoyuan found himself curious too, laughing. “Poor guy, crazy for love. So did he ever get her?”

Wang Shao shrugged. “Of course not.”

“This girl’s got real character, interesting.” Zhao Binlin grinned wickedly, rubbing his chin. “So what’s her name?”

“Oh, Feng Ning.” Anyone who’d ever crossed paths with her tended to remember her name firmly.

Jiang Wen, who’d been drinking water, suddenly choked. He dropped his phone, grabbed a tissue, and wiped his mouth. After coughing for a while, once he’d settled down, he turned and asked, “What did you say her name was?”

“—Feng, Ning.”

Author’s Note: Before it was a boy going crazy for love, now it’s the fourth young master’s turn.

This fic is also known as, “Boss Ning and Her Family’s Sweet Wife-to-Be: A Tale of Their Various Trials and Tribulations.”