September’s tail end slipped by in an instant.

The summer heat was gradually cooling; Shuang Yao had recently run into a serious romantic problem. Feng Ning had just finished running laps on the sports field, letting herself be dragged along limply, without strength.

“Tomorrow I’ll take you to see him, really, he’s exactly my type aesthetically. I’m dizzy over him, tall, fair-skinned, and slim.”

“What’s his name?”

“Don’t know yet.”

Feng Ning laughed at her: “Different class? So you’re over here swooning by yourself, does he even know you exist?”

Shuang Yao pinched her arm. “Can you not be so harsh when you talk? Even though neither of us knows the other’s surname or given name, I have a really strong feeling.”

“What feeling?”

“I’m definitely special to him, because we’ve made eye contact so many times across a crowded sea of people.”

“Since you two feel mutual affection, then what is special Yao Yao troubled about?”

“Originally, I thought he was the type not to bother with girls at all. But today, today someone came up to ask him for his contact info, and he actually gave it!! He!! Actually!! Gave it!!!!”

Saying this, Shuang Yao got worked up again, her words coming out all jumbled. She quickly took a couple deep breaths. “I happened to be passing by right then, saw him write it down and hand it to that girl in one swift motion, I really, I’m about to die of anger!”

Stepping over a large patch of fallen leaves, Feng Ning offered a suggestion: “Then you go ask him too, if you don’t take the first step, how do you expect to take the countless steps after?”

Shuang Yao shook her head, describing her inner journey to her friend in meticulous detail: “No, I can’t ask. That wouldn’t be romantic at all. I can write in my diary about him every day, calculate the distance to brush past him just right, I can even silently count every second we make eye contact in my heart, but I can’t take that initiative myself.”

“Why not?” Feng Ning commented sharply, “Isn’t this just you being self-moved by your own drama?”

“You just don’t get it.”

The setting sun hovered, not quite falling; the two of them strolled circles around the field, with retired old teachers nearby too. After bickering back and forth for a while, seeing Shuang Yao looking pitifully wronged, Feng Ning sighed, “Since it’s so painful, then just don’t like him anymore.”

Shuang Yao was indignant, quite pitiful: “But I can’t do that, can I?”

“Let me analyze this for you.” Feng Ning tilted the corner of her mouth. “Have you ever considered that maybe what you like isn’t him—what you like is the sense of submission that ‘liking him’ brings you.”

Shuang Yao stopped walking. “Sense of submission?”

“Yes, really savor that word for a moment.” Feng Ning put on an air of rationality. “Liking someone plainly and evenly is boring. Objectively speaking, liking someone is itself a pleasurable yet painful thing—it needs that hazy sense of wistful loss, uncomfortable yet also something you enjoy at the same time.”

Shuang Yao’s mind didn’t turn as fast as hers, struggling quite a bit to understand this speech.

Having laid out one point after another, Feng Ning swiftly delivered her conclusion, “Do you remember my speech? Nietzsche’s view, fundamentally, what you like is always a desire you yourself generate, and who the object of that desire is doesn’t actually matter. If you can wrap your head around this point, switching to liking someone else wouldn’t be difficult either, right?”

Shuang Yao unconsciously nodded along, puzzled, sinking into thought.

Having achieved the effect she wanted, Feng Ning smiled with satisfaction.

When she was talking nonsense, she could always keep a straight face while making things she didn’t even believe herself sound perfectly logical. Along the way she’d cite some classic quotes, making it sound especially convincing at first listen, hard to tell truth from falsehood. Then, without leaving a trace, she’d leave the other person completely confused.

Feng Ning was, at her core, an absolute con artist.

Sports day was approaching.

The class monitor was tearing his hair out over event sign-ups. The boys were easy enough to handle; the main issue was that the girls weren’t very enthusiastic, participation far too low.

“Old Iron told me and the sports committee member to handle it ourselves. But we asked around the class for two days, and the girls either say they can’t be in the sun, or they can’t do strenuous exercise. Our class’s gender ratio is pretty balanced too, if this event ends up with no one and that event has no one, wouldn’t that be embarrassing? It’s not about class honor or anything, at least being able to turn something in would be fine.”

During evening self-study, the class monitor went around persuading people, his nagging talent rivaling that of Sister Xianglin.

Five minutes without a break. Feng Ning’s head was starting to ache from his nagging; she slapped her pen down, looked up: “Fine, stop talking. Give me the sign-up sheet. Which one’s short?”

The class monitor, with a bit of flattery and caution, said, “The others can barely scrape together a few people, but the 1500 meters really is…”

Feng Ning didn’t bother listening to his nonsense any further, quickly scanned it, signed her own name in the 1500m slot, and tossed the form back to him. “Alright, I need to study, hurry up and go, don’t bother me while I’m studying.”

“There’s also high jump… maybe you’d consider that too?” As the class monitor spoke, someone tapped his shoulder. He didn’t notice at all, and before he finished his sentence, an impatient voice came from above his head.

The class monitor opened his mouth, uncertain: “Jiang Wen, you… you need something from me?”

Jiang Wen stood tall and slender, his face cold as he stood off to the side, “This is my seat.”

“Oh oh.” The class monitor stood up nervously, giving up his spot.

For some reason, though girls all said Jiang Wen was handsome, he always felt Jiang Wen had a kind of gloomy air about him, that a single glance could freeze someone to death. The class monitor was a bit scared of him, and quickly walked off.

Thank goodness, it finally got quiet around Feng Ning’s ears. She’d sweated quite a bit running that evening, and had also spent a good while blowing in the wind outside with Shuang Yao. Now her head was starting to ache, and she’d been staring at several physics problems for a while without any leads.

She lazily raised her arm, poking the person in front of her. “Jiang Wen.”

Three or four seconds later, Jiang Wen leaned back, turning his head to look over.

Feng Ning withdrew her hand, saying weakly, “Help me look at a few problems.”

He took the notebook, studying it for a while.

Jiang Wen turned sideways as he explained the problem, his arm resting on the edge of her desk. As he explained, he drew force-analysis diagrams on the paper with his pen.

He lowered his head, his black hair soft and fine, falling in front of his brow, unintentionally letting slip a bit of gentleness.

Feng Ning had no energy left, her back sagging, chin resting limply on the desk.

Jiang Wen’s breath brushed gently past the tip of her nose as he spoke. Feng Ning sniffed slightly, catching a fresh scent, fresh enough that she got a bit distracted.

Her eyes wandered to Jiang Wen’s mouth, thinking to herself, his lips are so red, wonder what brand of mouthwash he uses…?

Orange flavor?

Or grapefruit flavor…

After a minute, Feng Ning chased the distraction from her mind, focused her attention, and listened attentively to his explanation. She pointed at her homework book with her finger. “Here, isn’t the force on both sides of a fixed pulley the same?”

Jiang Wen quickly drew two more lines. “The friction at the pulley axle is negligible, but you can’t ignore the effect of the rope’s tension on P.”

“Oh…”

Feng Ning collected herself, listening to him with a clear mind. Her eyelashes were long; she blinked, and even the light in her eyes seemed to shatter with the blink.

He glanced up slightly, accidentally catching this sight, and his hand holding the pen trembled.

The light overhead suddenly went out with a pop, and at the same moment, the entire classroom plunged into darkness.

Someone shouted up front, “What’s going on? Did a fuse trip?”

The class monitor hurried out to check; the whole school building had lost power, only the emergency light in the stairwell was still on.

Chaos broke out in the classroom, but Feng Ning still stayed in her original position without moving.

In the pitch black, Jiang Wen waited silently for a moment. He still held the pen in his hand, and there was warm breath spraying onto the back of his hand.

It was hers.

His hand tightened, then loosened. As he withdrew it, his wrist abruptly brushed against her forehead.

Unable to see anything, the senses of touch and hearing grew increasingly sharp.

Thump, thump, thump—this was the sound of a heartbeat.

“Do you get it?”

Feng Ning made a humming sound, “…more or less.”

“There are two more problems, I’ll explain them when we’re back in the dorm.”

They couldn’t see each other’s expressions; Feng Ning made a confused “ah” sound, “How are you going to explain it to me back in the dorm?”

“…Do you have a phone?”

“I do.”

Jiang Wen was quiet for a moment, then said, with evident difficulty, as if quite reluctant, “…then tell me your phone number.”

Feng Ning laughed, exposing him without any mercy: “Jiang Wen, have you never chased a girl before? The way you’re asking for contact info is a bit stiff, huh.”

“……”

Just then, the corridor light came back on, faint light seeping in. The classroom regained a bit of brightness, and Jiang Wen’s embarrassed expression hadn’t been put away in time.

The two made eye contact; Feng Ning was still keeping the same posture as before.

Besides embarrassment, she could actually make out a bit of wronged sulkiness too.

He turned his head away, trying hard to maintain a natural expression, stubbornly saying, “Never mind.”

Not long after, a teacher on patrol came by, telling all the students self-studying in the classroom to go back to their dorms one by one, saying no one knew when the power would come back on tonight.

Jiang Wen started packing up his things. Just as he stood up, someone called out to him—Feng Ning held a scrap of paper between two fingers, handing it to him, clearly torn hastily from a notebook.

Jiang Wen’s anger hadn’t subsided yet; without moving his head, his eyes flicked down. “What’s this.”

She giggled, “What you wanted, my phone number.”

“I don’t want it.” Jiang Wen didn’t take it, and didn’t look at her either.

Feng Ning nearly rolled her eyes.

She held back her patience, flipped open her own notebook, and handed over a pen with both hands, saying nicely, “Fine fine fine, it’s me who wants your phone number, alright? Would you do me the honor and write your number in my notebook?”

Xi Gaoyuan and Zhao Binlin were watching a ball game on the computer. They glanced up as Jiang Wen pushed the door open, quite surprised. “Weren’t you self-studying in the classroom? Why are you back so early?”

He said briefly: “Power went out.”

Jiang Wen went to change into his pajamas, then sat down on the edge of the bed. With nothing else to do, he watched the live ball game broadcast with them for a while.

At halftime, the cheerleaders came out to dance. After enthusiastically commenting on the girls’ figures for a while, Xi Gaoyuan turned his head back and suddenly said, “Jiang Wen, whose message are you waiting for?”

Jiang Wen couldn’t be bothered to argue with him: “I’m using my phone to check the time.”

“Faking it.” Xi Gaoyuan grinned slyly. “Just in these past ten-odd minutes, you’ve checked the time at least five or six times. What, in a hurry to turn off the lights and sleep?”

Just as he spoke, the phone buzzed—a WeChat notification. Jiang Wen swiped his lock screen.

A friend request, avatar was Cherry Little Maruko, the name was Fnn:

Hello, I’m your homeroom teacher, here to check on your study progress.

He snorted from his throat, glanced at the time, and turned off the screen. He didn’t accept the friend request.

A few minutes passed, and the phone lit up again. A text from a stranger’s number:

【Bro, why aren’t you responding?】

Jiang Wen laughed silently. He looked at the time; another few minutes passed, and he finally, reluctantly, accepted Cherry Little Maruko’s friend request.

Fnn_: Why’re you so slow?

W: So many people add me, how would I know it’s you.

Fnn_: You talk so coldly

W: ……

Fnn_: You don’t have to sleep yet right now, right?

W: Mn

Zhao Binlin’s loud voice exploded nearby: “Jiang Wen, are you watching porn or something, why are you smiling like an idiot at your phone alone?” As he said this, he leaned his head over to look.

Jiang Wen’s smug expression was still hanging on his face; he subconsciously pulled the phone back, “Nothing.” Having said this, he quickly got up, pulled open the balcony door, and went out.

Zhao Binlin and Xi Gaoyuan exchanged a glance.

Feng Ning sent another message over:

Fnn_: Maybe you’re interested in discussing that conveyor belt problem with me?

A few minutes later, he replied:

W: Not interested. Let’s talk tomorrow. Typing is tiring.

Feng Ning couldn’t stand this affected reluctance of his the most. She turned the desk lamp up a bit brighter, tossed aside the pillow she’d been hugging. Sitting up a bit from bed, she called him directly; it rang five or six times before he picked up.

“Hehe, understand this—if I don’t figure out this problem, I won’t be able to sleep tonight.” Feng Ning was flipping rapidly through her book. “I’ve got just one question, why is the friction direction the same when the two objects are slipping against each other?”

On this spring-drunk night, the evening breeze carried a hint of coolness. Jiang Wen stood leaning against the balcony railing, gazing at the distant night sky.

The door behind him was pulled open. Xi Gaoyuan poked his head out: “Who are you on the phone with, hiding out here?”

Jiang Wen reacted half a beat slow, pulling the phone further away, “What do you want?”

Xi Gaoyuan guessed: “Your sister?”

He denied it: “No.”

“Your little sister?”

“No.”

“Feng Ning?”

“……”

Jiang Wen was quiet for a moment, and Xi Gaoyuan, quick-handed, snatched the phone from him, dashing back into the dorm.

Jiang Wen didn’t react in time, freezing for two seconds before chasing after him. Zhao Binlin wrapped an arm around his waist, holding him in place. He was a bit angered, struggling as he shouted, “What are you two doing?”

Xi Gaoyuan cleared his throat, switching on speakerphone. “Hey hey, is this Feng Ning?”

Feng Ning’s tone was normal: “Yeah, what’s up?”

“Calling this late…” Xi Gaoyuan grinned meaningfully, “You two got something going on, huh?”

“What something, nothing’s going on. This is just plainly the grade’s number one and number two discussing academic matters.” Feng Ning answered.

Jiang Wen glared furiously, lowering his voice, “Damn it, give me back the phone.”

Xi Gaoyuan gestured for him to wait, “Can I ask the study god two questions?”

“Sure, go ahead.”

Xi Gaoyuan turned the volume up even louder. “When you’re with your mom, what does your mom call you?”

“Calls me by my name.”

He drew out an “oh” sound, “So when you’re with Jiang Wen, what does he call you?”

“Calls me by my name.”

Zhao Binlin laughed cheerfully, loudly chiming in:

“—Then when exactly are you going to be with Jiang Wen?”