After the incident with Chen Yuan, Madame Lin had Lin Kexing move back home, arranging for a driver to take her to and from school every day. If not for the professionals advising against it, Madame Lin would have gone so far as to file for a leave of absence on Lin Kexing’s behalf. This daughter of hers gave her no end of headaches—she couldn’t understand why, no matter what happened, Lin Kexing would never say a word to her family about it. Take her closeness with Chen Yuan, for example. If Lin Kexing had said something from the start, she herself, or her husband, or even those two stepsons of hers could have looked into Chen Yuan’s background. Why put herself through an entirely unnecessary storm like this?

Lin Kexing still went to school every day, but she no longer engaged in any conversation with her classmates beyond what was strictly necessary.

Madame Lin also recognized that this kind of environment was doing nothing good for her daughter’s future. So she decided that come next year, she would personally accompany Lin Kexing to study abroad, and only return home to the country once her daughter had fully recovered. That evening, she raised the matter with her husband. Master Lin had no idea about his daughter’s history with Jiang Yan, and so was somewhat baffled, “It was nothing more than baseless rumors. Kexing herself said she and Chen Yuan were just friends—this whole thing has already blown over. Fine, sending Kexing abroad next year is all well and good, but does it really require you to go along with her? She’s eighteen years old, and nineteen next year—she’s perfectly capable of managing on her own.”

Regarding the matter of Jiang Yan’s mother, Madame Lin had her own private reasons she could not speak aloud.

Madame Lin’s heart was bitter, but she was firm, “No matter how old she is, she’s still my child. I am going to accompany Kexing abroad—I can’t be at ease with her there alone.”

Master Lin was equally exasperated, “You said you wanted to send her abroad before, and I agreed. Then you changed your mind and had Kexing stay here for her undergraduate degree, and I agreed to that too. Now she’s only just started her first year, and you want to send her abroad again—and go along with her yourself. What about your own business? Are you just going to set it aside?”

For Madame Lin, her career genuinely mattered a great deal.

But those words spoken by Jiang Yan’s mother had, to some extent, awakened a realization within her.

Yes—she had worked so hard, and over these ten years she had barely attended to her own daughter. And for whom? For the Lin family’s affairs. And in the end, who would the Lin family’s legacy belong to? Not her daughter—but to those two stepsons.

Was she truly going to set her daughter’s entire life aside for the sake of this so-called Lin family enterprise?

Madame Lin’s position was resolute. Master Lin had his own views. The husband and wife fell into an argument, and Lin Kexing—living at home—heard and sensed it all, and felt all the more consumed by guilt. In the midst of Lin Kexing’s overwhelming pain and self-reproach, a classmate from the same department but a different class came to find her in a conspiratorial manner: “The A’Da campus beauty broke up with her ex-boyfriend because of you, didn’t she? Don’t bother denying it—I’ve looked into the whole thing these past few days, and it was definitely you, Lin Kexing. You’ve really opened my eyes. First you get yourself involved with that foreign second-generation rich kid and his girlfriend, and now there’s A’Da’s campus beauty and her ex-boyfriend…”

Lin Kexing flinched, then forced herself to stay composed, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You know exactly what I’m talking about. I won’t waste words. Everyone at school knows your family has money. You give me one hundred thousand—one hundred thousand is a small number to someone like you. I’ve heard your monthly allowance is more than that. You give me one hundred thousand, and I swear I won’t say a word to anyone.” The girl continued, “Otherwise, I’ll tell everyone in school that Lin Kexing is a serial homewrecker.”

…

During this period, people had still been leaving ugly, vicious words in the comments and reposts on Lin Kexing’s social media accounts.

She couldn’t understand it—what had she done wrong? Why did these people harbor such ferocious hatred toward her?

She and Chen Yuan were just good friends. And besides, she’d had absolutely no idea Chen Yuan had a girlfriend.

“Why are you doing this to me?” Lin Kexing’s eyes had gone red, “You don’t know anything!”

Knowing nothing—was that enough justification to hurt someone this way?

Knowing nothing—was that sufficient grounds to just say whatever vile things you wanted about a person?

She was genuinely frightened now.

Frightened of those words. Even if she forced herself not to look, she was still afraid of people’s eyes—couldn’t stop herself from speculating whether this person, that person, was thinking terrible things about her in their head.

In the end, Lin Kexing gave the classmate the one hundred thousand.

The arrival of the first snow also meant that final exams were not far off.

One morning, when Lu Yicheng came to deliver breakfast, Jiang Ruoqiao asked, “Do you have class this afternoon?”

Lu Yicheng shook his head, “No class. I was planning to go to the library to study.”

Jiang Ruoqiao had been busy lately too—everyone was before exams. She was also handling work on top of studying, and the dormitory just didn’t have the right atmosphere for focused studying. She thought about it, then said, “So you’ll be alone?”

Lu Yicheng understood what she was getting at—but still asked with slight uncertainty, “I’ll be alone. Should I save you a seat?”

Jiang Ruoqiao, however composed she appeared on the surface, was still only twenty years old. Her heart gave a small, nervous flutter, though her voice was perfectly steady. “Sure. Don’t worry—I know how to behave. I won’t be late.”

Every year at this time, it was a case of too many students and too few resources.

Seat-saving at the library was something others might do—but it was likely a line Lu Yicheng would have trouble crossing in himself.

All Jiang Ruoqiao wanted was to study with him. After all, those three roommates of hers had no plans to go to the library.

Lu Yicheng nodded and agreed.

He turned to leave, took a few steps—then stopped, uncertain, and doubled back, calling her name.

Jiang Ruoqiao was standing on the steps, and turned her head to look at him.

Lu Yicheng asked: “You mean—you want to go study with me at the library together this afternoon?”

He was genuinely unsure, and couldn’t quite bring himself to believe it.

Jiang Ruoqiao bit back a laugh, “Oh, are you busy? Or would you prefer not to?”

Lu Yicheng went still for a moment, then came back to himself and quickly shook his head, “No, no—I’m free, I’m happy to.”

As he said it, he realized he’d answered too quickly and too eagerly—it probably seemed rather desperate. “…”

He took a slow breath, looked up at her, and said, quite honestly: “I’m just surprised.”

Or more precisely—it should have been: delightful surprise.

“Surprised?” Jiang Ruoqiao savored the word with a quiet smile. She had to admit—she was charmed by it. Her mood was good, “Alright then. I’ll be there on time. Studying alongside someone who’s this much of an academic genius—maybe it’ll bring me good luck on the exam.”

It was, when you stripped it down, just going to the library together to study.

But for the rest of the morning, Lu Yicheng existed in a state of taut anticipation and excitement. “Excitement” was perhaps not even quite the right word for what he was feeling—it was closer to… exhilaration. A kind of giddy energy with no clear explanation. Even at lunch in the cafeteria, his whole body seemed to hum with it, and he kept checking the time.

When the agreed hour arrived, Lu Yicheng went to the library first. The place wasn’t packed at this hour, but it wasn’t empty either. He scanned the room, and finally found what he thought was an excellent spot—with an empty seat beside it. He checked the surrounding seats—also available. Only then did he exhale, set his backpack down in the adjacent seat, and consider it claimed.

This was his first time ever doing something like this.

If the seats had been scarce, he absolutely would not have done it.

He had it all figured out: if Jiang Ruoqiao arrived a little late and someone had already taken the seat, that was fine. He could take her somewhere else to study—there was a café nearby that was supposed to have a nice atmosphere.

Just as Lu Yicheng was waiting anxiously for Jiang Ruoqiao to arrive, a hand dropped onto his shoulder from behind. He instinctively turned around.

Oh—a friend.

The friend lowered his voice, “Figured you’d be in the library when you didn’t have class. Perfect, I’ll study with you—we can grab dinner together this evening. It’s been ages since we’ve all hung out.”

This was Lu Yicheng’s high school classmate.

The two of them were now in the same department but different classes.

Just as the friend was about to pick up Lu Yicheng’s backpack and sit down, Lu Yicheng hesitated—then reached out to stop him, “Wait. Someone’s got that seat.”

His friend looked at him, baffled. “?”

Someone’s got that seat???

After saying it, Lu Yicheng felt a little self-conscious too—but he held firm, “Really. There’s someone—they’ll be here any moment.”

“Who?” the friend asked.

Lu Yicheng was still weighing whether and how to answer when Jiang Ruoqiao arrived.

Jiang Ruoqiao was the kind of person who seemed to draw eyes wherever she went without even trying. A few students who had just sat down and hadn’t yet settled into studying noticed her.

His friend stared at Jiang Ruoqiao, then looked back at Lu Yicheng. So—there really was someone, and it was Jiang Ruoqiao?

Lu Yicheng said to his friend, “She’s here.”

The three words, coming out of Lu Yicheng’s mouth, carried a feeling he couldn’t quite name.

She’s here.

The friend: “?”

Absolutely floored. Respect.

Lu Yicheng’s friend was clearly a person with excellent social awareness. He gave Jiang Ruoqiao one brief smile, didn’t even say hello, and promptly scooped up his books and made himself scarce. Jiang Ruoqiao settled into the seat beside Lu Yicheng, well-prepared: she had her school bag, a stack of books, a laptop, and finally, a pink thermos flask.

Lu Yicheng was even more nervous now.

This was the very first time—the very first time he had ever studied with a girl at the library together.

Jiang Ruoqiao appeared to have come genuinely to study.

Jing Shi was well into the deep cold of winter, and soon the library had not a single empty seat left. Sure enough, people noticed Jiang Ruoqiao and Lu Yicheng sitting together—but after a brief moment of gossip, everyone turned back to their own work. Other people’s dramas were all very entertaining—but the impending exam season was far more terrifying.

Lu Yicheng was nervous for a little while—then, once he’d grown used to having Jiang Ruoqiao beside him, he began to relax. He spread his books open and flipped on his tablet.

Both of them fell into focused study, absorbed in their own material.

Only occasionally did they drift out of that state for a quiet moment of daydreaming.

Aware of the person beside her, Jiang Ruoqiao would notice things—the way Lu Yicheng held his pen, the fountain pen itself, and catching a glimpse of the notes in his open textbook from the corner of her eye.

His handwriting was beautiful.

The handwriting reflected the man.

Judging by the density of those notes, he must have been extraordinarily attentive in class—which was, of course, why a title like “academic deity” didn’t just come from nowhere. He truly worked hard, and he truly took his studies seriously.

And Lu Yicheng, naturally, found himself noticing Jiang Ruoqiao’s pale, slender fingers moving across her keyboard—and the delicate white wrist below them, adorned with a bracelet.

And the ring on her right index finger, a small thing with a distinctive shape.

More arresting than any of that, though, were her nails.

He’d overheard people talking about such things before. This was, if he understood correctly…manicure.

And genuinely very pretty, at that.

Just as Lu Yicheng was gazing with a slightly faraway look, his phone vibrated in his pocket.

He quietly took it out and glanced at Jiang Ruoqiao—she was staring intently at her laptop screen, deep in focus. He unlocked the screen and opened his messaging app.

It was a message from his friend: 【Not joining you for dinner today—best not to interrupt a date! 】

Lu Yicheng: 【?】

Lu Yicheng: 【No, it’s—it’s not a date. We’re studying.】

Friend: 【Your way of putting things is so refreshingly unique. Hahaha, if this isn’t a date, then what is?!】

Lu Yicheng went quiet.

Was it… genuinely a date?

Was it really?

Jiang Ruoqiao had pulled up the web version of her messaging app, and found a message from her own friend.

She was fairly confident Lu Yicheng would absolutely never glance at her laptop screen—so she opened it. The contents were, as expected, rather explosive, and not appropriate for Lu Yicheng to see.

Friend: 【Oh wow, I heard you went to the library with Lu Yicheng? Has he successfully won you over?】

Jiang Ruoqiao’s hands stilled on the keyboard. After a few seconds of silence, she typed back her reply: 【I don’t know.】