The young man’s expression was natural as he spoke those words, showing not the slightest hint that anything was out of place.
Lin Tao looked at him, momentarily at a loss for what to say.
The dim yellow light of the living room fell across his face, carving it into different planes and angles. The loose strands of hair at his forehead cast delicate shadows beneath the bridge of his nose.
His skin really was remarkably pale — the kind that never seemed to tan.
During those few days in Haicheng, even though the weather had been overcast and rainy with almost no sun, Haicheng’s proximity to the equator had still managed to deepen Lin Tao’s complexion by half a shade.
Jiang Yan, however, had not changed at all. He seemed to possess that peculiar skin type that only grew paler the more sun it got. Right now he wore a white short-sleeved T-shirt, a stretch of his still luminously pale arm showing beneath it, with smoky grey cotton trousers below and cotton slippers on his feet. He looked thoroughly warm and comfortable.
Lin Tao’s attention drifted gradually away from his words and toward his clothing.
She noticed that apart from black, white, and grey, she could not seem to find a fourth colour anywhere in his wardrobe — even the décor of his room was confined to those three shades, a textbook example of the cold, minimalist aesthetic.
Lin Tao thought back to those popular romance novels she and Meng Xin had read in their first year of high school. The male leads in those stories were almost always portrayed as cold and aloof in public, the untouchable flower on a high mountain — yet in private they showed endless tenderness toward the heroine, the devoted, clingy little wolf-dog type.
Following that train of thought, she could not help drifting somewhere deeper: if he were ever to fall in love someday, would he be like that too — clingy and gentle?
“……”
Lin Tao caught herself just in time before her thoughts went any further. She came back to herself to find Jiang Yan watching her with a half-smile, and felt her cheeks grow hot without her permission. Her gaze skittered away, and her voice came out a little strained. “I’m heading back now.”
She grabbed her water and bolted out the door.
By the time she made it back to the private room in one breathless dash, Lin Tao set the water on the table, covered her face with both hands, and stewed in a tangle of embarrassment and bewilderment.
What on earth had come over her? Spring hadn’t even arrived yet — so why did she keep having all these scattered, inconvenient thoughts?
She sat with her face hidden for a while, and then, unbidden, she recalled the words the young man had just said —
Sure. Whatever you say.
“……”
That was it. She was done.
Lin Tao felt her heart hammering so hard it might leap from her chest. Those words were absolutely, completely unfair.
Whatever she said?
Did that mean from now on, whatever she told him, he would just go along with it?
And he hadn’t looked like he was joking in the slightest. His tone had been as casual as if he were answering whether he’d eaten that day.
“……”
Lin Tao was half-tempted to slam the table — to storm back over there, grab him by the shoulders, and demand: Do you like me or not? If you like me, why haven’t you said anything? It’s not like I don’t like you back.
A string of unanswered questions sent the young girl, experiencing her first stirrings of affection, plunging once more into deep contemplation of life’s great mysteries.
The eight-day holiday slipped away without a sound. In those few short days, Lin Tao had opened a new door in her life.
She had an early crush.
To be more precise, she had stepped aboard the ship of early romance — but she had no idea whether the person standing on the shore intended to board the same ship with her.
So she would have to find a way, by any means necessary, to figure out what the person on the shore was thinking, and then successfully coax him on board.
Monday morning arrived with an abundance of autumn sunlight. After the previous night’s rain, fallen leaves blanketed the city. The plane trees lining the roads had shed their foliage, leaving bare branches through which the light spilled down unobstructed.
Lin Tao took the bus to school as usual. The bus moved slowly, the view outside the window spread out in full: orange-clad figures of sanitation workers could be seen throughout the streets and alleyways, leaving cleanliness in their wake.
Two or three stops before No. 10 High School, two girls in school uniforms boarded. One sat down in the empty seat beside Lin Tao; the other settled across the aisle.
The girl next to Lin Tao turned sideways to speak to her companion. “Did you hear? Last night, some of our senior girls from Year 3 ran into a flasher at the bus stop on their way home from school.”
Her companion’s face went disbelieving. “Seriously? No way — is that true?”
“Of course it’s true. It happened right at the bus stop near our school gate. It was already past ten, and there was hardly anyone around. The creep just suddenly rushed out and pulled his trousers down right in front of them.”
“My god. How can people like that still exist.”
“Who knows.”
Hearing this, Lin Tao beside them couldn’t help straightening up. She glanced at the two girls’ uniforms — grey and white, the uniform of No. 8 High School next door.
No. 8 and No. 10 were separated by a single wall. The bus stop near the school gate they were describing was the same one where Lin Tao waited for the bus every afternoon.
“……”
The two girls kept talking. “Anyway, our homeroom teacher sent a message in the class group chat last night saying that for the time being, evening study would be cut down to two sessions, so we should head home earlier and not linger outside.”
“Who knows when they’ll catch that creep. We better hope we never run into him — so disgusting.”
The conversation cut off abruptly as the bus announced the next stop.
Lin Tao followed them off, her gaze sweeping the area around the bus stop. The people nearby were all early risers, every face radiating the hope of a new day. Not one of them looked like someone capable of doing something like that.
She relaxed slightly, then reminded herself — it was broad daylight. Nothing to worry about.
The stop was a few hundred metres from the school gate. Lin Tao had skipped breakfast that morning, and there was still time to spare, so she stopped at a breakfast stall at the entrance to a small lane and ordered a bowl of wontons.
The stall wasn’t a proper shopfront — just a canopy strung up at the lane entrance, with a few wooden tables inside. After ordering, Lin Tao found a seat and took out her phone to browse some posts.
She had recently downloaded an app focused on relationships, which hosted all kinds of forums — unrequited love, breakups, current relationships, marriages, divorces, affairs, even content related to coming out. Whatever you could think of, you could find it there.
It had opened up a whole new world.
At first, Lin Tao had mostly been reading posts about secret crushes. Everyone in those threads painted a heartbroken portrait of longing that would never be returned — far too bleak.
She felt that the hopeless, unrequited angle didn’t quite suit her purposes. What she wanted was full success — two hearts joyfully united, a lifetime of happiness together, growing old side by side, and perhaps someday…
Actually, the last part could wait. That was a bit too far ahead.
Eventually, Lin Tao discovered a forum dedicated to the art of charming and winning over a boy.
She had spent the whole previous day at home reading through the posts, and felt as though she had opened yet another new world entirely.
Outside, the morning mist had mostly lifted from the district, replaced by the steam drifting out from surrounding restaurants. The wonton stall was small and busy; Lin Tao waited five or six minutes before her bowl arrived.
The wonton skins were thin, the filling generous, and the broth full of flavour. Lin Tao finished her bowl and found herself wanting more — but decided against it, and got up to pay.
The stall was right at the lane entrance, and there were several other small vendors down the alley. The residents on either side had opened their doors and sat out front, chatting and eating breakfast.
There was a queue to pay.
Lin Tao found herself scrolling through the charming-and-winning forum again while she waited. That was when she spotted a featured post on the homepage, marked in large bold text.
#How I Turned My Cold, Brilliant Deskmate into My Boyfriend#
The post had been published only a few days ago, but for some reason had already accumulated several thousand comments and likes. It was enormously popular.
Lin Tao clicked through. The first few hundred words were a lengthy background about the author and her talented, handsome deskmate — something along the lines of falling instantly in love with him at the opening ceremony, then discovering they were in the same class, and by some stroke of fate becoming his deskmate.
After that came a record of their daily interactions, along with a personal guide the author had compiled on how to charm a boy.
Lin Tao read a little and promptly added it to her favourites. She looked up, paid, and as she turned to leave, glanced into the adjacent alley — where she caught sight of a familiar figure.
Every Monday the school held a flag-raising ceremony. As class monitor, he was required to wear the school uniform and lead the class banner at the front of the formation.
Jiang Yan wore his uniform to almost every ceremony, and today was no exception. The blue-and-white jacket was open, revealing his white T-shirt underneath, with black jeans below and white sneakers on his feet. His school bag was held loosely in one hand.
In the distance, the morning sun rose in full vigour. Sunlight filtered down through the tangled web of electrical wires overhead and into the lane.
He walked ahead of the light.
The encounter was unavoidable. Jiang Yan’s footsteps halted suddenly; he slung his bag onto his right shoulder and walked toward her step by step, his familiar presence washing over her from all directions. “Morning.”
The young man’s voice was faintly husky, carrying the languor of someone freshly woken. “Have you eaten?”
Lin Tao was just about to say yes, but the next second she suddenly remembered the forum post she had just been reading — one of its tips being: never pass up any opportunity to spend time alone with him.
“Not yet. I just got here.” Lin Tao kept her expression perfectly neutral. “Have you?”
He shook his head and asked, “Want to grab something together?”
“Sure.”
Jiang Yan ordered two bowls of wontons, and apparently worried that wouldn’t be enough, also ordered a steamer of soup dumplings and picked up two boiled eggs.
“……”
Lin Tao had a feeling she might actually eat herself to death at this tiny breakfast stall.
They found seats and sat down.
Jiang Yan set his bag on the empty chair beside him, picked up an egg, and tapped it lightly against the edge of the table. He worked his fingers along the crack to peel away the shell.
His fingers were long and pale, his nails neatly trimmed. Even with small, mundane tasks, his movements were careful and deliberate.
His long lashes lowered slightly. Lin Tao noticed a faint bluish tinge beneath his eyes — he had probably worked another late shift the night before.
Jiang Yan placed the peeled egg in her bowl, then pulled a pair of chopsticks from the holder on the table, snapped them apart, and handed them to her. “Eat up.”
Lin Tao hesitated briefly, but holding to her resolution never to pass up an opportunity for closeness, she reached out and accepted them. Her voice was very quiet. “Thank you.”
Jiang Yan gave a soft laugh and said nothing. He peeled the second egg and finished it in a few bites; their two bowls of wontons arrived shortly after.
The owner spotted the young girl sitting inside and let out a surprised sound. “Weren’t you just here earlier — didn’t you already eat —”
Lin Tao still had the egg in her mouth. The moment she heard the owner’s words, she opened it — and the egg lodged in her throat. She burst into a violent coughing fit.
She looked absolutely miserable.
Jiang Yan poured a cup of water from the table and handed it to Lin Tao. He then raised his eyes to look at the owner standing beside their table, his expression cool and distant.
The owner: “……”
What did I do wrong this time?
The classroom felt more lively than usual at the start of the new week. Lin Tao and Jiang Yan slipped in just as the bell rang. At the back of the room, Hu Hanghang and Song Yuan were sprawled over their desks, dead to the world in sleep — none of their usual rowdy energy in sight.
At the very last row, Tao Jia was chatting with a friend about something, her eyes full of laughter. As Lin Tao and Jiang Yan walked in, Tao Jia’s expression dimmed for just a moment. Their gazes met briefly; Tao Jia smiled at her, then quickly looked away and turned back to her friend.
Lin Tao had never paid much attention to such things. She settled into her seat, shoved her bag into the desk drawer, and flipped open whatever Chinese textbook was on top.
Then she opened her phone and kept scrolling through the forum post from earlier.
The picture of a girl thoroughly absorbed in her screen.
Morning reading period began. Old Yu arrived carrying his distinctive thermos, and when he saw the noisy, rowdy state of the classroom, he didn’t get angry at all — his mood was as cheerful as if he’d been eating rainbow candy for days.
He truly wasn’t angry.
These were the very same kids who had looked like they were going nowhere, and yet this last monthly exam had let him stand tall. Out of the top fifty students in the entire year group, his class alone had placed seven or eight, including one who had taken first place overall.
Old Yu scanned the room and spotted his top-ranked student sprawled on his desk, fast asleep. A deep sense of satisfaction settled in his chest.
Good. Present and accounted for, still bothering to show up — that marked the boy as worth cultivating. If he focused his efforts now, maybe this student could become the key to his future reputation as an elite homeroom teacher who had produced a top scholar.
The more he thought along these lines, the more warm and pleased his gaze became as it rested on Jiang Yan — and as a natural extension, it drifted over to the fiftieth-ranked student sitting beside him.
The girl hadn’t noticed him yet. She had her head down, utterly engrossed in something on her phone.
Old Yu lightened his footsteps and came to a stop beside her desk. He glanced down at the phone screen.
#My secret crush is being so difficult, what do I do# #How do I find out if my secret crush likes me back# #The ship of early romance is too damn hard to board#
“……”
At that, Old Yu suddenly understood the very obvious reason behind Lin Tao’s sharp drop in grades. His brow furrowed as he felt the situation growing rather complicated.
Lin Tao noticed him a beat too late. She snapped her head up and smoothly slid the phone under her book, smiling awkwardly. “Mr. Yu, why were you standing there without making a sound?”
Old Yu stared at Lin Tao for a few seconds and decided not to startle her just yet. He kept his usual cheerful expression. “Nothing at all — you carry on with what you were doing.”
With that, he returned to his spot at the front, thermos in hand, turning over in his mind how to bring this wayward soul back onto the right path.
Quite the challenge.
He had heard of other homeroom teachers handling situations like this: first came a one-on-one conversation, and when the soft approach failed, they would start applying pressure — which usually ended with both sides parting badly.
Yu Bingshan considered himself a principled man. He refused to take such a foolish approach.
He needed to think this through carefully.
Two morning classes came and went. The sky was clear and bright, and the weekly flag-raising ceremony proceeded as scheduled. Students from every class, banner and pennants in hand, streamed toward the sports ground.
Lin Tao and Jiang Yan pressed through the crowd, shuffling forward with difficulty.
Someone behind them had picked up the topic Lin Tao had heard on the bus earlier.
“Did you guys hear? There’s a flasher near the bus stop outside our school. Our teacher mentioned it during morning reading — told all the girls in our class to go home earlier in the evenings.”
“That is absolutely disgusting. I swear, if I ever catch that guy, I’ll beat him to a pulp.”
“……”
Lin Tao’s eye twitched. Jiang Yan, walking beside her, glanced over. “The bus stop near our school — isn’t that the one you take home?”
“Probably… I’m not completely sure which one it is.”
Morning sunlight at just past nine — bright and generous, warming the sports ground in a haze of comfortable heat.
All the classes had spread out to their designated spots. Class 18 was near the flag-raising platform, at the front, and as they passed other classes, some boys called out to Jiang Yan.
“Yan, you coming out to play ball this afternoon?”
Jiang Yan smiled and shook his head. “I’m a good student. I don’t skip class.”
“……”
Laughter rippled through the surrounding students.
Lin Tao caught the easy brightness of his smile, and felt the warmth of it settle at the tips of her lashes.
The two of them soon reached Class 18’s position. Lin Tao stood at the back of the girls’ line, leaving a small gap in front of her. Jiang Yan stopped beside her.
The class banner had already been carried over by another boy; protocol required Jiang Yan to stand at the front of the formation, but he didn’t move, waiting as students gradually drifted into place around them.
Jiang Yan shifted his shoulders slightly, reached up and pulled the school jacket’s zip closed. The blue-and-white uniform made his complexion look even paler. His light brown eyes rested on Lin Tao, his voice clear and pleasant:
“Wait for me after class tonight.”