After completing the formation walk, Sheng Xia stood like a mascot taking photos with her classmates. One after another, group after group, until her smile began to feel stiff.

The giant Pikachu walked towards her, accompanied by the slender Zhang Shu and his friends.

The boys wore their respective class uniforms, a colorful mix. All of them were tall with good bearing, particularly eye-catching.

Reaching Sheng Xia, Pikachu wiggled its bottom from side to side, using its tail to bump her while saying “Pika pika Pikachu,” then turned around, “Beautiful lady, would you honor cute Pikachu with a photo?”

That deep voice trying to act cute by pinching higher really gave everyone goosebumps. Sheng Xia couldn’t help but laugh.

Zhang Shu rolled his eyes, “How disgusting!”

Liu Hui’an said: “Old Hou, your shamelessness should have limits!”

Wu Pengcheng sighed: “You’d better not speak—’ Beauty and Pikachu’ instantly became ‘Beauty and the Beast.'”

Han Xiao said: “Beautiful lady, reject him!”

Pikachu ignored them all, muttering: “You’re just jealous!” Then bounced over to Sheng Xia’s side, calling out, “A-Shu, take a photo for us!”

The mascot’s huge feet accidentally brushed against the dress hem. Pikachu hopped back, only leaning the upper body close, with one foot lifted, bouncing up and down.

If you didn’t know Hou Junqi was inside, it was quite cute.

Sheng Xia also tilted her head closer.

Zhang Shu held the phone, and in the frame, the girl stood gracefully like a pure white jasmine in a precious vase, more noble than the moon, more dazzling than the sun.

Seeing her at the classroom door this morning, Zhang Shu’s mind inexplicably burst out with a line of poetry: Even the lotus cannot match the beauty’s makeup.

What was it Fu Jie had said?

Graceful in form and manner, serene yet composed, shy yet at ease, melancholic yet radiant.

Thinking of Fu Jie reminded him of that “Jasmine Flower” song—fragrant and white, praised by all, let me pluck you and give you to…

Give what hammer, useless lyrics.

“A-Shu, have you taken it yet?” Pikachu urged.

“Click.”

“Done,” Zhang Shu said.

Pikachu wasn’t satisfied, “Take a few more, what if I blinked?”

Zhang Shu laughed, “Who can see you blink?” You’re all blurry anyway.

“Oh, right.” Hou Junqi had a moment of realization, standing straight, “A-Shu, shall I take one of you?”

Zhang Shu replied: “No.”

“Come on, why not? Let’s take one together!” Han Xiao pushed Zhang Shu.

Liu Hui’an started calling out too, “We want to take one too!”

Pikachu shouted: “Doesn’t your class have its goddess? What are you doing taking photos with our class? Get lost!”

“Hey, A-Shu hasn’t even spoken yet, what are you blabbering about?” Wu Pengcheng teased, looking at Zhang Shu.

The most awkward was Sheng Xia.

This group knew how to make a scene, always the center of attention wherever they went. Now they’d even attracted the school reporters’ cameras.

Han Xiao grabbed Yang Linyu who was nearby, stuffing Zhang Shu’s phone into his hands, “Quick, take one of all of us!”

Several people huddled together, “Take several!”

Zhang Shu was pushed very close to Sheng Xia. The girl’s unique fragrance filled his nose, and a dream flashed through his mind. He collected himself and inconspicuously took a step toward Hou Junqi.

The sleeve of his T-shirt lightly brushed against Sheng Xia’s shoulder, and she caught his distancing movement completely.

Zhang Shu’s expression was too serious, and Yang Linyu said: “A-Shu, smile a bit?”

Zhang Shu obliged, lifting the corners of his mouth in a formulaic fake smile. Yang Linyu said again: “Never mind, better not smile—you’re turning what should be an idol drama into a horror film. Looks like you have ulterior motives toward the goddess.”

Zhang Shu: …

Sheng Xia: …

“Click click click” several times, Yang Linyu returned the phone to Zhang Shu, “See if they’re okay?”

Zhang Shu locked the phone and pocketed it without checking how the photos turned out. His gaze swept across the girl’s now-stiff smile as he asked Han Xiao and the others, “Are you planning to stay in our class forever?”

“Let’s go, it’s burning hot.” Hou Junqi responded first, about to remove the head cover when Zhang Shu pressed it down, scolding: “Have some conscience, don’t destroy girls’ fantasies.”

Hou Junqi: …

The group came like a whirlwind and left like one too.

Yang Linyu was there to relay a message: “Xiaohe and their group went to practice. They told me to let you know that if you need any help, just call me.”

Sheng Xia nodded: “Okay.”

Her gaze crossed the track, watching the backs of Pikachu and the young men.

Since meeting at the classroom door this morning, he seemed to have… never properly looked at her today.

…

After the photos, Sheng Xia wanted to return to studying rather than stay in the stands watching the ceremony, so she went alone to change out of the formal dress.

The rod that usually propped the changing room door had been taken away, leaving only a chair to block it.

Sheng Xia had just taken off the dress and hadn’t had time to tidy up when voices came from outside.

“Is everyone blind? You’re more beautiful. Sheng Xia just looks good because of the clothes, and they’re fake too. Why do they have to fawn so much? It’s ridiculous. I don’t know what’s going on—our head teacher, and Chinese teacher, all seem to especially favor her! Even the girls in our dorm are the same. I don’t get it.”

Sheng Xia heard her name, and the content wasn’t friendly. Her hand, ready to open the door, froze.

That voice was Zhou Xuanxuan.

Then came a male’s sneer, “Her styling is really weird. Don’t know what style it’s supposed to be, just randomly thrown together. So tacky.”

Must be that makeup artist.

Another girl chimed in: “New faces always get extra attention, that’s all. Nothing worth comparing. Xuanxuan, don’t be angry. But Zhang Shu—what’s going on with him? Why do I keep hearing people say he’s pursuing Sheng Xia?”

“Pursuing what?” Zhou Xuanxuan snorted coldly. “Just flirting.”

“Isn’t he with our Mengyao… what’s the point of flirting with others?”

Zhou Xuanxuan said: “Ha, can’t get the queen so he’s rebelling, right? Teasing a little white rabbit, watching her get all shy and flustered like a startled deer to satisfy his ego.”

“Enough, stop gossiping about others in front of me.” Chen Mengyao’s voice was equally cold.

Zhou Xuanxuan suddenly realized that judging by today’s styling, Chen Mengyao was the white rabbit, and Sheng Xia was the queen.

Hurrying to recover, she said: “I saw Zhang Shu bringing Sheng Xia over today, it was just to make you jealous. You’re still today’s star.”

Chen Mengyao removed her crown and jewelry, looking deeply at the necklace she’d bought, “So childish. Anyway, I don’t care. Drop it.”

He had asked Zhou Yingxiang to buy it from abroad—that’s how she found out. She’d thought it was for her, but seeing the price, she knew it probably wasn’t. He’d never given expensive gifts to her. Or to any girl, for that matter.

But now she was a bit worried—who had he bought that necklace for? Was it Sheng Xia?

More people came in, and it became noisy.

Sheng Xia leaned against the wall, her entire spine rigid. Her vision grew increasingly blurry before she realized tears were welling up in her eyes. She tilted her head back, carefully wiping away a crystal drop from the corner of her eye.

Her hand was ice cold.

Someone knocked on the door, “Anyone in there?”

“Mm.” Sheng Xia responded, fanning her face, then picked up the formal dress and opened the door.

Outside was chaos, with goddesses from various classes removing their hair accessories, and jewelry, looking for their things. Few noticed who came out of the changing room, except for the people around desk number 4.

Zhou Xuanxuan stared at Sheng Xia in shock, uncertain whether she had heard anything, as the room had good soundproofing.

The man and woman beside her also clearly froze, standing stiffly.

Chen Mengyao focused on removing her false eyelashes, but her gaze followed Sheng Xia’s figure through the mirror—she walked past without a sideways glance, showing no emotion, her slender body radiating an imposing presence.

It was something never seen in the usually head-lowering Sheng Xia.

“Sheng Xia?” Zhou Xuanxuan was the first to greet her, tentatively.

Sheng Xia was folding the dress when she turned with a mild “Mm?” as if just noticing her, her eyes devoid of emotion. She spoke softly: “Xuanxuan, could you help me fold this dress?”

Zhou Xuanxuan breathed a sigh of relief and squeezed out a smile as she came over, “Sure!”

The skirt was large. Sheng Xia held one side while Zhou Xuanxuan held the other. As they stretched it out, Sheng Xia moved closer to Zhou Xuanxuan to reach across. At their closest proximity, Zhou Xuanxuan heard Sheng Xia ask in a voice only they could hear: “Xuanxuan, are you very curious about me?”

Zhou Xuanxuan froze, a chill suddenly running down her spine.

Before she could react, Sheng Xia took the dress corner from her hands, and then handed her the dress body, repeating the folding motion. When she came close again, she added: “Gossiping behind people’s backs… the real protagonist would never do that.”

Zhou Xuanxuan woodenly cooperated as Sheng Xia avoided looking at her directly.

The fabric in her hands was expensive, with fine velvet and intricate embroidery, expertly stitched. Though she’d never seen the original, Zhou Xuanxuan knew this couldn’t be something rented for six hundred yuan.

Sheng Xia placed the folded dress back in its box, straightened up, and said to Zhou Xuanxuan: “If you have questions, you can ask me directly in the future.”

Her tone was so gentle that others who overheard would think they were just chatting.

But Zhou Xuanxuan was completely frozen—

Sheng Xia had heard, heard everything, perhaps from the very first word. She was telling her to speak face-to-face.

She’d even mocked Zhou Xuanxuan’s “you’re the real protagonist” comment.

Long after Sheng Xia left with her things, Zhou Xuanxuan remained motionless.

She couldn’t describe how she felt.

In her impression, someone like Sheng Xia, even if she overheard, would just pretend she hadn’t, hide away to cry secretly, return to class as if nothing happened, tell no one, and certainly wouldn’t confront anyone with pointed words.

Today, Sheng Xia was like a cat suddenly extending its soft paw pads to reveal sharp claws.

These two sentences, upon reflection, weren’t particularly forceful. If anyone else in class had said them, Zhou Xuanxuan wouldn’t have taken them seriously or felt they had any bite. But this was Sheng Xia?

That Sheng Xia who always walked with her head down?

That Sheng Xia who would blush if someone looked at her twice?

Sheng Xia couldn’t quite describe her current feelings either.

The grief of being maliciously hurt had faded by the time she left Room 105; the satisfaction of verbal revenge? Not really; worry about future relationships with classmates? Vaguely, but that was easing too.

Growing up in a complex family background, she’d learned early on how to make herself feel better. Though her time with Sheng Mingfeng wasn’t long, she’d learned much from him about human nature and judgment.

People like Zhou Xuanxuan, while despising what they called “backdoors” and “brown-nosing,” simultaneously feared and revered such things. If one day they possessed these advantages or even came close, they’d want to show off to the whole world.

With such people, staying silent was never a good approach. Appropriate firmness was the way to survive.

Many such principles, Sheng Xia had understood early on but rarely had to apply them.

She wasn’t sure if today’s handling was correct, but having taken this step, she’d just go with the flow.

Zhou Xuanxuan was just a passing figure in her life.

She understood her inner turmoil wasn’t because of Zhou Xuanxuan, but she couldn’t pinpoint exactly what it was.

Her chest felt tight, with no clear source.

Sheng Xia didn’t even know how she’d managed to carry all those boxes back. When she entered the classroom, she was met with shocked stares—she looked like a Barbie turned Hulk.

She put the boxes on her desk. Her arms, having maintained one position for so long, were stiff and wouldn’t straighten. Even slight stretching caused painful muscle soreness. Her hands were still shaking when she made the phone call.

Sheng Mingfeng was in a meeting, so Li Xu answered. Sheng Xia asked when he’d be free to come take the dress back.

Li Xu was confused, asking: “Why take it back? Doesn’t it fit?”

Sheng Xia said: “No, it fits perfectly. The event is over.”

“Then just keep it.”

Sheng Xia frowned slightly: “Don’t I need to return it?”

Li Xu, thinking Sheng Xia was worried about disciplinary implications, laughed and answered: “No need, it was bought, not borrowed or gifted. You can keep it with peace of mind.”

Bought?

If the rental would have been thousands, how much did it cost to buy?

Sheng Xia understood Sheng Mingfeng—coming from a humble background, he maintained a frugal lifestyle, casual about daily expenses. This wasn’t just for show to colleagues and superiors. Though his social status had risen, broadening his horizons and elevating his taste, he could accept occasional expensive purchases for family members without opposing them, but he wouldn’t encourage or advocate for them.

Zou Weiping had grown up with a silver spoon, preferring low-key luxury.

This must have been entirely Zou Weiping’s doing.

This put Sheng Xia in a difficult position.

What should she do with such an expensive dress? Taking it home was impossible. Tell Sheng Mingfeng? That would probably start another fight between him and Zou Weiping.

In those brief seconds, countless “dress hiding places” flashed through Sheng Xia’s mind, each quickly dismissed.

Sheng Xia stood holding her phone under the corridor stairs, at a loss, debating whether to contact Zou Weiping herself.

But in all these years, she’d never dealt with Zou Weiping directly. How would she even begin?

Suddenly, she heard Hou Junqi and Zhang Shu’s voices from above, accompanied by footsteps. They must be coming down from upstairs.

“Send me the photos?” Hou Junqi said, “I’ll post them on Weibo, WeChat Moments, everywhere to show off.”

Zhang Shu said: “Show off what?”

“Show off our class goddess?”

Zhang Shu said: “What’s it got to do with you?”

“If not with me, then with you, okay?” Hou Junqi said cheerfully. “A-Shu, who do you think looks better, Sheng Xia or Chen Mengyao? The guys in the dorm are all betting on it, want to place a bet?”

Zhang Shu replied: “Childish.”

Hou Junqi said: “Who knew little Sheng Xia had such a nice figure?”

A loud “pak” of a slap on flesh rang out, followed by Hou Junqi’s pained cry, “Damn, A-Shu, what was that for!”

“Computer viruses are one thing, don’t let your brain get infected,” Zhang Shu enunciated each word, adding finally, “Stop fantasizing.”

“I wasn’t fantasizing! Where’s your mind going? Can’t I just give a compliment?” Hou Junqi’s voice was extremely aggrieved. “Send them to me?”

Their voices grew distant, and Sheng Xia guessed they’d entered the classroom before emerging from under the stairs.

Through the glass classroom door, she could still see the youth’s broad shoulders and the handsome back of his head.

Suddenly, she didn’t want to return to the classroom.

Didn’t want to sit beside him, didn’t want to “show a shy expression,” didn’t want to—be someone’s flirting target.

In that instant, those harsh words cycled through Sheng Xia’s mind again:

Just flirting…

Can’t get the queen so teasing a white rabbit…

The white rabbit’s shy, startled-deer expression…

To satisfy his ego…

Zhang Shu brought Sheng Xia over just to make you jealous…

…

…

Just flirting.

To make you jealous.

A sourness spread in her throat.

In this terrible moment, Sheng Xia understood the lingering heaviness in her chest—she was perhaps experiencing an unfamiliar emotion called like.

It seemed… not so wonderful after all.