Lin Tao and Jiang Yan entered a cold war.

It continued for several days straight. Whatever small warmth had existed between them as deskmates plummeted to zero — and showed faint signs of going into the negatives.

This made life somewhat difficult for Hu Hanghang and Song Yuan, sitting directly behind them.

Over this stretch, they’d clearly noticed that the air between Lin Tao and Jiang Yan had gone strange — the kind of atmosphere where even a cup of water thrown in would freeze solid on contact.

They kept their voices down, barely breathed, and after enough days of this, Hu Hanghang decided, for the sake of his own survival, to come up with something to ease the tension between the two — otherwise, he and Song Yuan would never know peace again.

But before he had the chance to act, someone else beat him to it.

Friday brought a beautiful sunny day. The last period of the afternoon was physical education. After roll call, the teacher told everyone to warm up first.

Two laps around the track.

Lin Tao’s arm made running impractical, so she stood by the track waiting for everyone to assemble. The P.E. teacher, Zhou Li, stood beside her with the attendance sheet.

Silence settled between them like an old friend.

“…”

Fortunately, two laps went by quickly. Once everyone had gathered afterward, Zhou Li gave them free time and went to lie down on the bleachers with his attendance sheet, happily napping.

Meng Xin was called off to play volleyball. Lin Tao sat nearby, holding Meng Xin’s jacket and water bottle.

The four boys stood by the pull-up bars, talking idly. Song Yuan stretched his arms straight up and hung from the bar — his T-shirt riding up just enough to reveal a sliver of abs. He glanced at Jiang Yan beside him and asked, offhandedly, “What’s going on with you and Lin Tao?”

Jiang Yan put his phone away, reached up, gripped the bar with both hands, and knocked out several pull-ups. When he dropped back to the ground, he said, “No idea.” He gazed over at Lin Tao, sitting a little way off, and added: “Who knows.”

In truth, Jiang Yan didn’t feel like there was any serious issue between them. Their communication had become a bit minimal recently, sure — but they’d never had much communication to begin with.

If there was anything that could be called a conflict, it was probably the incident where Lin Tao had been dragged down with him and ended up writing a three-thousand-word reflection. But Jiang Yan figured Lin Tao wasn’t the petty type.

Boys just don’t think that carefully. So no matter how he turned it over, Jiang Yan couldn’t figure out what, exactly, the problem between them was.

“I think you probably did something to upset her.” Hu Hanghang, lacking the arm strength to hang from the bar, leaned against the nearby pole instead.

Xu Yichuan threw an arm over his shoulder. “How about we give you some advice? Go coax her back.”

Jiang Yan turned his head, one eyelid lifting. “Why would I go coax her?”

Xu Yichuan patted him on the shoulder with a knowing smirk. “Why do you think? You’re the one who upset her — not us.”

“Who says I upset her?” Jiang Yan shrugged off his arm and walked ahead. “You go if you want. I’m not going.”

He’d barely gone a few steps when a commotion erupted behind him. “Tang Yushi! You did that on purpose — couldn’t you see Lin Tao was standing right there?!”

Jiang Yan stopped. He turned around.

Lin Tao was being helped up from the ground by someone. She had one hand pressed over her forehead, and her hand was covered in blood.

“Damn it.” Jiang Yan swore under his breath.

“Yan—” Xu Yichuan had just turned back to call for him. Before he could finish, Jiang Yan was already running past him.

“…”

Well. That didn’t take long.

By the time Jiang Yan arrived, the girls in the immediate area had visibly stepped back.

Meng Xin hadn’t noticed. She pushed Lin Tao into Jiang Yan’s arms and turned on Tang Yushi, furious. “Jiang Yan — could you and the others please take Lin Tao to the nurse’s office? I need to deal with some personal business.”

“Meng Xin!” Lin Tao called after her. “Don’t do anything rash.”

“Lin Tao, don’t stop me. I swear today I am going to make Tang Yushi pay.” Meng Xin was so agitated she’d even started swearing.

At that, Tang Yushi, who had been standing to the side, couldn’t help but defend herself: “Meng Xin, what are you threatening to do? It was an accident — how was I supposed to know it would hit her?”

“Oh, for—!” Meng Xin couldn’t keep the anger in anymore. She raised her hand, ready to strike—

Jiang Yan caught it mid-swing.

She spun on him, irritated. “What?”

“If you hit her, Lin Tao’s the one who’ll be in the wrong.” Jiang Yan released her wrist. His gaze dropped to the wound on Lin Tao’s forehead. He looked down and asked quietly, “She hit you with the ball?”

Lin Tao’s head was throbbing from the impact. She was a little dazed, her fingers gripping Jiang Yan’s arm. She said softly, “I was just standing there when a ball suddenly came flying at me from the side.”

In truth, she couldn’t say for certain whether Tang Yushi had done it on purpose. But given the history of friction between them going all the way back to their first year, saying Tang Yushi hadn’t meant to do it—

Lin Tao wasn’t about to swallow that.

Jiang Yan pressed his lips together briefly. He didn’t push further. Then, without warning, he bent down and scooped Lin Tao up into his arms. His voice was entirely even. “Meng Xin, let’s get Lin Tao to the nurse’s office first. I’ll handle this later.”

Xu Yichuan backed him up: “That’s right, Lin Tao — don’t worry. We’ll make sure this doesn’t go unanswered.”

The group moved quickly toward the nurse’s office. Halfway there, they ran into the P.E. teacher, Zhou Li, who had been called over. Xu Yichuan stayed back to intercept him — saying something or other, it was hard to tell — while the onlookers murmured among themselves.

Nearby, Tang Yushi felt a cold dread spread through her. She knew better than anyone what kind of person Jiang Yan was at this school. Crossing him was the same as digging your own grave.

She had never imagined that Jiang Yan would have anything to do with Lin Tao.

“Yushi…” A close friend tugged at Tang Yushi’s sleeve, voice low and uneasy. “What do we do? If Jiang Yan actually comes after you, we’re done.”

Tang Yushi’s face had gone completely pale, but she kept her composure through sheer stubbornness. “What’s there to be afraid of? It’s not like he can hit a girl. Besides — I didn’t do it on purpose.”

Her friend stared at that pale face for a moment, thought better of saying anything further, and offered weakly, “Let’s hope so.”

Lin Tao’s wound wasn’t deep. By the time they reached the nurse’s office, it had already stopped bleeding.

The school doctor cleaned and treated the wound, then said, “Lucky it wasn’t deeper. A little more and you’d have needed stitches.”

Meng Xin let out a breath of relief. “Thank you.”

“Of course. Go home and keep it clean — watch your diet, too, to help prevent scarring.”

Lin Tao nodded. “Understood.”

“Alright, you kids chat. Just try not to get too loud.”

The doctor took her tray of supplies and walked out. Meng Xin sat down next to Lin Tao, gently brushing the edge of the bandage on her forehead, and the anger flared right back up. “Unbelievable. If Tang Yushi dares to claim that was an accident, I’ll tear my own head off and hand it to her as a ball.”

“…”

The three boys sat across the room on a spare cot. Hu Hanghang couldn’t help but ask, “Who is Tang Yushi, anyway? What’s her issue with you?”

“We were in the same class freshman year.” Meng Xin was genuinely baffled herself. “I honestly don’t know why she’s had it out for Lin Tao since the very first day. From the moment school started, she just… couldn’t stand her.”

“Sounds like there’s a secret we don’t know about.”

Song Yuan nudged Jiang Yan’s shoulder. “How are you thinking of handling this? You can’t just let Lin Tao take the hit and not get anything back.”

At that, all eyes fell on Jiang Yan.

Lin Tao looked up at him too. Their gazes met briefly before Jiang Yan looked away, his tone unhurried. “Simple. Give her a taste of her own medicine.”

Hu Hanghang’s brow furrowed. “But she’s a girl. Are you actually going to have someone rough her up?”

Jiang Yan’s gaze drifted — not quite intentionally — to the bandage patched across Lin Tao’s forehead. His voice stayed flat. “She’s a girl. What, is my deskmate not a girl?”

Lin Tao’s eyelid twitched. She said nothing.

The group chatted intermittently as they waited.

When the bell signaling end of class was almost upon them, Xu Yichuan — who had stayed behind to deal with the P.E. teacher — came sprinting in to report. Zhou Li needed to ask them a few questions about the incident, and it was only then that the group remembered class was technically still in session.

As they were leaving, Song Yuan said casually, “Yan, why don’t you stay here with Lin Tao? We’ll come find you both a bit later.”

Jiang Yan had already decided he wasn’t going back, but being told this directly out loud left him oddly unsettled. He gave a noncommittal sound of agreement.

Lin Tao glanced at him. Once everyone had gone, she said, “If you’ve got somewhere to be, you can head out.”

Jiang Yan looked at her without responding. He simply lay back against the bed pillow. “Rest for a bit. Wake me up in half an hour.”

“…?” What was going on here?

Lin Tao fell silent. Her head felt heavy and dull. She figured she may as well lie down too. The afternoon light outside the window had already turned to a warm amber. A breeze lifted the corner of the curtain.

For a brief stretch, the rest area was peaceful. And somehow — soft.

“Lin Tao.”

Half-asleep, Lin Tao thought she heard someone calling her name. She answered drowsily: “…Hm?”

“Can you stop being angry with me?”

…

Lin Tao couldn’t recall afterward whether she had actually answered that question. She couldn’t even be sure it hadn’t been a dream — only that the feeling had been vivid.

And strangely tender.

Lin Tao slept for over two hours. When she finally woke up, the rest area had gone completely dark. She’d drawn the curtains, and they blocked every trace of light from outside.

She rubbed her eyes and felt around under the pillow for her phone.

The screen read 7:20 PM.

She switched on the flashlight and swept it toward the next bed — empty, nothing but covers and a pillow. She muttered under her breath, “Seriously, no sense of loyalty. Just left without me.”

The words were barely out of her mouth when a low, groggy voice drifted over from the other side of the room: “…What are you saying?”

Then the overhead light came on.

Lin Tao startled. Her phone slipped from her fingers and landed in the sheets. She turned to look. “Weren’t you on that bed?”

Jiang Yan had apparently just woken up as well — covers piled at his legs, eyes half-open, voice still thick and husky with sleep. “That bed was uncomfortable.”

“…”

Lin Tao picked up her phone and turned off the flashlight. “Let’s go. Back to the classroom.”

“Already got us excused.” Jiang Yan — still not quite looking well-rested — leaned back against the white wall. There were faint sleep-creased lines across his cheek. “Song Yuan filed medical absence forms for both of us.”

“What about you? Surely we can’t both be on medical leave.”

Jiang Yan finally looked up at her. “Song Yuan told the teacher we’d gotten into a fight with each other and that we’d both ended up injured. We’re in the nurse’s office recovering.”

“And Old Yu actually believed that?”

Jiang Yan had slept too long. His lips were a little dry. He touched his tongue to them briefly, barely noticeable. “He didn’t. So Old Yu counted it as skipping class for both of us.”

Lin Tao suddenly found herself with nothing to say. Not because of the skipping class part — but because of that small, unconscious motion.

Jiang Yan’s mouth had a lovely shape. His upper lip was slightly thinner than the lower, with a well-defined cupid’s bow. His lips were a natural deep red, and after he’d just moistened them like that, they held a faint sheen.

Lin Tao felt, without warning, that she was rather thirsty. She quietly looked away.

This person was really something.

He was far too much.