Jiang Yan genuinely felt like things had gone to the dogs.

He was the school tyrant — the school tyrant of No. 10 High, known by everyone, feared by all. Ever since the new semester started and he got a new seatmate, he’d been writing self-criticism letters every other day.

And the reasons were never the same twice.

The last one — three thousand words for disrupting class order — wasn’t even finished yet. Now he had another three thousand words for playing on his phone in class, making it six thousand words of self-criticism in total.

Great. He was just so very — oh, forget it.

But he couldn’t just not write it. Old Yu was the kind to nag without end. If he didn’t turn in the letter on time, the man would probably launch into a full lecture of loving educational guidance within the next ten seconds.

Jiang Yan truly felt that being the school tyrant had never been this miserable before.

During the break between classes, he went nowhere — just sat at his seat and wrote the self-criticism.

His guilty little seatmate, whether out of a guilty conscience or, well, a guilty conscience, had slipped away the moment class ended.

Hu Hanghang, Song Yuan, and Xu Yichuan all crowded into the seats behind him and sat in a row, three heads lined up, staring at Jiang Yan write his letter.

Xu Yichuan wedged his head in from behind, looked at the wild, flailing characters on the paper, and couldn’t hold back a laugh. “Bro, can we find some time to practice your handwriting? With penmanship like yours, who’s going to be able to tell this is a self-criticism letter? Anyone who doesn’t know might think you’re drawing some kind of talisman.”

Jiang Yan had a stomach full of bottled-up anger.

Xu Yichuan had walked right into the cannon’s mouth. And yet this guy still had no idea, rambling on non-stop: “Bro, your handwriting reflects your character. You can’t waste that face of yours. If—”

He never got to finish. Jiang Yan threw down his pen, reached out, and shoved Xu Yichuan’s head down with one arm. “Xu Yichuan, have you gotten tired of living lately?”

Xu Yichuan hadn’t expected such a sudden move. He was completely pinned down, head facing the floor, the sensation of blood rushing to his head deeply unpleasant.

He immediately cried for mercy: “Bro bro bro bro bro let go! Brother Yan! Great one! Daddy! You’re my daddy!”

Quite lacking in dignity.

Jiang Yan was laughing despite himself. He loosened his grip a little.

Xu Yichuan seized the opening and yanked his head back, rubbing it frantically with both hands. “Damn it, Pangpang! Pangpang! Quick, check if my face is still handsome — I make my living off this face, you know.”

“Not handsome. Not handsome anywhere,” said Hu Hanghang, slapping a hand across Xu Yichuan’s face. “Xu Yichuan, you really have no shame. If you can make a living off your face, then I can terrorize the whole world with this body of mine.”

“And what’s wrong with making a living off my face?” Xu Yichuan rolled up his sleeve.

“Nothing right about it anywhere.” Hu Hanghang rose to meet him.

Song Yuan watched from the side with the air of a gleeful spectator. He grabbed two scraps of paper off a desk and laid them on the ground. “Alright, alright, placing bets — bet on Hu Hanghang winning, put it on the right; bet on Xu Yichuan winning, put it on the left.”

He said it, but not one person in the class who was sneaking glances dared to actually move.

All three of those guys might not have the same fearsome reputation as Jiang Yan, but they still ran in his circle — they were minor figures in their own right.

Who wanted to die first? Go ahead and bet.

While everyone was still hovering in spectator mode, Du Wenbo — who spent every class buried in his e-reader — walked in from the back door of the classroom, scanned the room, and tossed a coin onto the paper on the left.

“……”

That one move seemed to flip a switch in the whole class. The crowd that had been watching suddenly swarmed forward.

“I bet on Hu Hanghang!”

“I bet on Xu Yichuan!”

“Can I bet on both? Is that allowed?”

“Get out of here!”

It was at this moment that Lin Tao came back to the classroom. She entered from the front door. Jiang Yan had his back to her, arms crossed, leaning against his desk, watching the chaos with amusement.

The back of the room had devolved into complete pandemonium.

Boys and girls all crammed together.

The noisy classroom was awash in sunlight. The boy’s shoulders were straight and lean; he dropped his head now and then as though he was laughing, his whole body shaking slightly.

Just as he lowered his head, the breeze from the window blew through, and Lin Tao watched as a lock of his fine, dark hair was lifted and ruffled by the wind.

A word floated up in her mind.

Gentle.

Jiang Yan thought Hu Hanghang was a genuine hidden treasure of a guy — when it came to clowning around, nobody could top him.

Right now he was clinging to Xu Yichuan’s back with zero regard for his own dignity, both legs wrapped tight around Xu Yichuan’s waist, one hand hooked around his neck, shouting at the top of his lungs: “Who’s your daddy? Your chubby daddy is your daddy!”

“Chubby daddy makes his move — you’ll see the difference!”

“When chubby daddy strikes, you’ll know what he’s got!”

Jiang Yan had his head down, unable to stop smiling. From the corner of his eye, he suddenly caught sight of his treacherous little seatmate tiptoeing cautiously in his direction.

The moment he looked up, he wiped the smile from his face and watched her sneaky little movements with a blank expression.

Lin Tao stopped in her tracks. She flashed him a fawning smile. “Classmate Jiang.”

Jiang Yan said nothing, watching Hu Hanghang and Xu Yichuan’s battle out of the corner of his eye while privately thinking: Let’s see what kind of nonsense excuse she can come up with today.

“I think I owe you an apology.” Lin Tao walked up beside him, head bowed, striking quite a proper pose of contrition.

On the other side of the room, Xu Yichuan had Hu Hanghang’s head locked under his arm, Hu Hanghang’s chubby face squashed out of shape by the pressure.

Jiang Yan almost let out a laugh, then caught sight of Lin Tao and cleared his throat, straightening his expression. “Don’t. I can’t afford to receive it.”

“You absolutely can! You’re the school tyrant revered by thousands! Nobody in this school has more right than you to receive my apology!” Lin Tao rattled this off with her eyes half-shut.

So what if it was an apology!

So what if it involved flattery!

So what if she had to eat humble pie!

She, Lin Tao, could do this!

Jiang Yan actually wasn’t all that angry. He just felt… felt… he couldn’t quite put into words what he felt.

In the end he gave up trying, let out a helpless sigh, and put on the air of someone making a great sacrifice. “I’m still pretty annoyed, honestly. But considering we’re going to be seatmates for the next two years, I’ll accept your apology.”

“Wait— two years?! We’re going to be seatmates for two whole years?!” Lin Tao couldn’t hold it in and blurted it out.

“……”

Jiang Yan genuinely felt that ever since he’d gotten this seatmate, his temper had improved considerably. In the old days, she might already be paralyzed right now.

Lin Tao realized immediately that her outburst was a bit awkward. Two years as a seatmate with the school tyrant, she thought. Will I go bald? Will I die young?

She hadn’t even had a relationship yet.

Could she still experience the sweetness of early romance as the school tyrant’s seatmate?

Lin Tao’s mind had wandered completely off track. Before she knew it she blurted out: “Do you fall for people early?”

“?” Jiang Yan thought the topic of early romance was quite serious indeed. Upholding the principle of not corrupting the impressionable, he responded with stern righteousness —

“Early romance?”

“Absolutely impossible.”

“I am an outstanding successor of socialism. Do I look like the type who would pursue early romance?”

Lin Tao: “……”

Lin Tao and Jiang Yan’s topic wrapped up along with the end of Xu Yichuan and Hu Hanghang’s battle. The two of them “made peace.”

And Song Yuan — having served as the bookie — made a tidy little profit.

During class, he and Pangpang tallied the take: nearly twenty yuan, a small fortune.

“Damn, this is way too profitable. Lunch is on you.” Hu Hanghang made this decision entirely on his own, then passed a note to Lin Tao.

[Little sister, we’re eating out at lunch — Song Yuan’s paying since he made money. Order whatever you want. Also ask Brother Yan.]

Lin Tao’s cast still wasn’t off, making it awkward to write, so she stuffed the note to Jiang Yan. He read to the last line and exploded.

Swoosh swoosh swoosh — he scrawled a line on it and passed it back.

Hu Hanghang cautiously unfolded it.

[Hu Hanghang, am I some kind of afterthought to you? You’ve got some nerve.]

Hu Hanghang: “……”

I’m so exhausted. Watching the budget and raising children at the same time.

He picked up his pen and wrote, then folded it and passed it to Lin Tao.

Lin Tao unfolded it.

The original line had been crossed out with a black pen. Beneath it was a new sentence.

[Brother Yan! Daddy! Grandpa! Ancestor! Song Yuan is treating us to lunch today. What would you like to eat?]

She read it and laughed, then stuffed the note back to Jiang Yan.

Jiang Yan unfolded it, skimmed it, wrote one line, and passed it back to Hu Hanghang.

[Ask my seatmate.]

Hu Hanghang: “……”

Table-flipping rage.

The English teacher noticed the commotion on their side and gave a light cough. “Students in the back, mind yourselves — don’t be whispering during class.”

Lin Tao was still enjoying herself. At the teacher’s words she immediately went quiet, dropping her gaze to her textbook, which had fallen somewhere behind in the lecture.

From the neighboring classroom came the clear, bright sound of students reading aloud and the teacher’s crisp, precise British-accented English.

She glanced sideways out the window. Jiang Yan happened to turn and look over at the same moment.

Their gazes collided squarely.

Both of them startled.

After a few seconds, Jiang Yan’s eyes dropped to her arm. He moved his lips. “When does that cast on your arm come off?”

“That? Probably within the next two weeks or so.” Lin Tao’s fracture wasn’t too serious — a minor break.

“How did you break it?” Jiang Yan asked again.

“Bike lessons.” Lin Tao wasn’t as resistant to the topic as she’d once been. She answered honestly: “I was learning to ride a bike over the summer. I fell.”

Jiang Yan paused for a second. Then he started laughing.

A real laugh — teeth showing. You could tell he was genuinely, deeply amused.

Lin Tao smacked his arm with her cast. “Classmate Jiang, if you keep laughing like that, we really will be severing all ties.”

“Ahh…” His voice came out low and a little husky, the smile still refusing to be contained. “Aren’t you a little academic star? How do you not know how to ride a bike?”

Only then did Lin Tao understand: he wasn’t laughing because the situation was funny — he was laughing at her. She couldn’t help herself; her left hand reached across to pinch him.

Unfortunately her left hand kept falling short no matter how she tried, and she couldn’t look down to guide it. Her hand fumbled blindly underneath the desk.

Sneaky and clumsy, in an extremely awkward posture.

Jiang Yan hadn’t noticed what she was doing and was still leaning over the desk, laughing.

Then, in the next second, something warm landed on his thigh.

He looked down.

A hand was resting on his leg.

He happened to be wearing a pair of ripped jeans today. The girl’s hand had landed square on one of the holes — not an inch off.

The warmth of her palm reached his thigh completely unobstructed.

Her fingers were pale and slender, her nails trimmed into neat, rounded shapes, each nail bearing a small white crescent shape near the base.

Her hand had faint blue veins on the back, and her palm was warm and soft.

Jiang Yan looked down at it for a few seconds, cursed internally, damn…

Then, without changing his expression, he looked away and turned to Lin Tao with a perfectly straight face. “What’s this — harassing me now?”

Author’s Note: Brother Yan: “Today, little sister touched my thigh. In the future, little sister, hehehehehe…” — The man who swore he’d never fall for someone early looks at this story’s description: “I already deeply, deeply regret this.”