“……”
The air between them went still.
The moment the words left her mouth, Lin Tao realised what she had said — but it was too late. Early romance had already come out with complete and unmistakable clarity.
She stood with her lips slightly parted, watching the disbelieving expression cross the young man’s face, her heart giving a violent lurch. On instinct, she denied it. “No, I’m not. I was just saying that.”
It sounded completely unconvincing. Jiang Yan was quiet for a long moment, saying nothing. When he looked at her, his eyes were filled with complex, unreadable emotions.
Under that gaze, Lin Tao felt her chest tighten. She fought down the urge to blurt everything out and kept explaining. “Believe me, I really am not in an early romance.”
As she spoke, she even raised three fingers, preparing to swear a more persuasive oath. “I swear — if I am in an early romance, then I’ll…”
Actually, that didn’t seem right either.
She might not be in one now, but who was to say she wouldn’t be at some point? Was she really supposed to wait until after high school graduation to say anything about her feelings?
That was clearly out of the question.
The abrupt pause made whatever irritation Jiang Yan had not yet let go of surge to a new height in an instant.
He bit down lightly on the inside of his cheek, turned away without a word, and pulled out a blank exam paper from his desk drawer. He picked up a pen, gripping it so tightly the knuckle went white.
“……”
Lin Tao felt deeply wronged.
All she had done was accidentally let slip that she was thinking about it — she hadn’t even done anything yet — and somehow she had already managed to make him angry. What was worse, she had no idea why he was angry at all. Even if she were going to have an early romance, it would be with him — it wasn’t as though she’d pick someone else.
Lin Tao’s skill at winning someone over was still firmly at beginner level. After trying and failing to work out why her secret crush was so upset, she sneaked out her phone again and logged back into the app.
After scrolling through the entire forum without finding a single post that matched her situation, Lin Tao decided to post one herself.
She first registered as a user in the charming-and-winning forum, then checked the posting guidelines with the forum assistant, and wrote up everything about her current situation with Jiang Yan.
About ten minutes later, she published her first-ever post on the app.
#Why is my secret crush angry after finding out I want to have an early romance?#
The app had a particularly thoughtful feature: when a new user published their very first post, the system would actively push it — keeping it pinned at the top of the homepage for one day and marking it as a featured post for three hours. So the moment Lin Tao posted, warm and enthusiastic responses from users started pouring in.
Comment 1: Read the whole thing in a minute. All I have to say is — if your secret crush doesn’t like you, I’ll eat my words.
Comment 2: Choking on so much jealousy today, as always [laughing face]
Comment 3: Are you sure you two aren’t both pining for each other in secret?
……
Comment 50: When your secret crush finds out you want to have an early romance and reacts like this, it can only mean one of two things: one, he likes you and he’s jealous, so he’s annoyed; or two, he’s genuinely a model student, is sincerely against early romance, and is also against other people having them (this option is basically ruled out).
Comment 51: Seconding the above.
Comment 52: Ahh, such a lovely school romance. I don’t have much to say — I’m digging a spot and waiting for updates.
“……”
The replies came quickly and the post was soon well past the threshold for a featured badge, keeping it pinned high on the homepage of the charming-and-winning forum. A flood of curious readers descended.
The app had a second thoughtful feature: original posts could be edited and updated without limit.
After reading through the responses, Lin Tao updated the post.
Original poster: So how do I find out whether he likes me?
Comment 1: Just go for it!! What are you waiting for?! Tell him right now, this second — I like you! I want to be with you! Let’s go!!!
Comment 2: I feel like all you two need is someone to poke a hole through the paper screen between you (can’t you two just do it? Let me come do it!!!!!!!!)
……
Comment 58: Lemon tree full of lemon fruit, lemon tree underneath it’s you and me [lemon]
……
Comment 108: OP PLEASE! No matter what happens, you HAVE to post an update!!!!!
Comment 109: OP, which school are you at? At this rate I’ll fly over and confess on your behalf!!
The forum’s users were enthusiastic and nosy in equal measure, responding swiftly and gossiping with great energy. Having read through Lin Tao’s original post, they had entirely forgotten this was a help thread and were all calling for her to post updates.
Lin Tao sat with her head down scrolling through the replies.
A girl from class came over and knocked on her desk. “Lin Tao, Old Yu wants you in the office.”
The girl had placed seventh in this exam, one spot ahead of Lin Tao. She looked up and turned off her screen. “Got it, thank you.”
“No problem.”
Once the girl had gone, Lin Tao unlocked her phone and added one more line to the post —
Teacher called for me, everyone wait for updates [crying-laughing face]
A reply came in almost immediately: Okay, go ahead. I’ll be here eating lemon.
She snorted and almost laughed — but let it fade just as quickly.
She raised her eyes and looked at Jiang Yan beside her. The young man was slightly bent forward, the line of his neck and spine drawing a perfectly straight angle; his profile was sharp and clean, his long lashes always downcast. The hand holding the pen barely moved.
She kept looking. He never looked up.
Lin Tao let out a quiet breath, tucked her phone away, and left the classroom.
Inside the classroom, after she left, Jiang Yan released the pen and leaned back against Hu Hanghang’s desk. A restless, uncomfortable feeling churned through him.
Hu Hanghang leaned forward over his shoulder. “Yan, Class 16 wants to play us in basketball — you in?”
They only had three periods in the afternoon, with the last being a self-study session. Old Yu liked to talk, but whenever he was actually given dedicated time to talk, he found he had nothing to say. Almost every self-study period ended with him waving them off to entertain themselves.
Hu Hanghang had arranged the game early that morning without thinking to invite Jiang Yan, but Class 16 had insisted he be called down, saying without him their team had nothing to compete against.
That stung Hu Hanghang’s pride enormously. He decided to rope Jiang Yan in and exact revenge.
Jiang Yan shoved the exam paper back into the drawer, stripped off his uniform jacket and left it on the desk, stood up, his mood not especially high. “Let’s go.”
Office.
Lin Tao stood before Old Yu’s desk with impeccable posture, eyes fixed on the small ornaments on his desk, wearing the expression of someone perfectly ready to be reprimanded. “Mr. Yu, I know my grades dropped a lot this time. I’ve reflected on myself deeply. You can count on me — I’ll bring them back up at the next exam.”
Old Yu found it remarkable what an interesting pair of deskmates Jiang Yan and Lin Tao made: he hadn’t said a single word yet, and one had enthusiastically praised himself while the other had launched straight into self-criticism.
He felt once again that the decision to seat them together had been absolutely inspired.
“Now, Lin Tao, one setback doesn’t define anything. As long as you recognise your own shortcomings and actively work to correct them, that’s all we can ask.” Old Yu rose and added more hot water to his mug. “Failure is the stepping stone to success, and I still have full confidence in you.”
Lin Tao looked up with firm resolve. “Thank you for your confidence, Mr. Yu. I’ll really give it my all next time.”
“Good! I believe in you.”
“Then since you believe in me, and I believe in myself, does that mean I can go back now?” Lin Tao asked, tentatively.
“……”
Old Yu gave a mild chuckle. “There’s no rush — I have a few more things I’d like to chat with you about.”
Lin Tao stood there, fingers twisting the hem of her jacket, genuinely unable to imagine what else he could possibly want to discuss. But she could hardly refuse, so she nodded obediently. “Of course, Mr. Yu. What did you want to talk about?”
“Well.” Before calling Lin Tao in, Old Yu had looked up several online articles about how homeroom teachers should handle student romantic relationships, but none of them quite fit his style. He still hadn’t settled on a good approach. “It’s nothing too serious, I just wanted to ask you —”
The words reached his lips and stalled there. Lin Tao watched him, puzzled.
He turned it over in his mind for a while and decided to set it aside for now. “Actually, never mind. Nothing major. Head back to class — and send Cheng Song in on your way.”
“Yes sir, goodbye Mr. Yu.”
Lin Tao was barely out the door before she had her phone out, moving with the eagerness of someone deeply absorbed in the internet. She was surprised to find that her post had been pushed to the front page of the main forum — and the replies, she realised, had already broken a thousand.
She scrolled as she walked, and by the time she reached the classroom she noticed the seat beside her was empty. The blue-and-white uniform had been carelessly tossed on the desk with one sleeve hanging to the floor.
Lin Tao leaned over and picked it up, then tapped Xu Huanhuan’s shoulder. “Huanhuan, have you seen my deskmate?”
“He went to play basketball, I think.” Xu Huanhuan was eating a piece of hard candy that crunched with each bite. “I heard Hu Hanghang ask him, and then they left together.”
Lin Tao pressed her lips together slightly. “Got it, thanks.”
“Sure. What did Old Yu say to you?” Xu Huanhuan had dropped quite a few spots herself this exam and was feeling deeply anxious about the conversation with Old Yu.
“Nothing much — just a few words about the exam. Since I dropped, he told me to be more careful going forward.”
“You call that dropping… I went from twentieth to past thirtieth. Does that mean he’s calling my parents in?”
Lin Tao looked at the dejected girl and couldn’t help laughing a little. “Don’t worry, Old Yu won’t call parents. That’s not his style — at most he’ll say a few things to you.”
“Here’s hoping.”
Lunch break passed quickly. Half the class had already been to Old Yu’s office, and the other half was scheduled for the last self-study period of the afternoon.
The class bell rang — and Jiang Yan still hadn’t come back.
Lin Tao pulled out her English book and laid it open on the desk, closed the forum, and sent him a message.
Class started. When are you coming back?
Two full periods of English went by, and the message went unanswered.
The temperature had been dropping steadily over the past few days. Lin Tao rarely drank cola anymore, usually bringing her own thermos of hot water instead. With a few minutes left before the next class, she tucked her phone into her pocket, stood up, grabbed her thermos, and went to fill it.
The hot water station was at the end of the corridor, with the stairwell just opposite. Class 16 was right next to the stairs; it was the end of lunch break and students were moving in every direction. Girls getting hot water were clustered together in pairs and threes, and Lin Tao stood alone at the back of the line, phone in hand — looking rather solitary.
Voices of several boys drifted in from the stairwell, growing closer. “What the hell kind of basketball was that? I was just chasing after the ball the whole time.”
“You’ve got the nerve to complain — you’re the one who insisted on calling him down.”
The boy recalled what had happened on the court at lunch and shuddered. He looked back at the young man trailing behind the group. “Bro, please, never set foot on our court again. We can’t take that kind of suffering.”
The young man had just come back from the basketball court, still damp, the dark hair at his forehead wet, water clinging to the corners of his eyes and brows. His expression was calm and unruffled as he gave the lightest lift of his eyelids, the edges of his mouth curving in a loose smile.
They came quickly down the last dozen or so steps, and the boy with the basketball stopped at the classroom door. “Yan, we’re heading in — let’s do this again sometime.”
“Are you serious with ‘let’s do this again’ — I’ll kill you! I’ll show you ‘let’s do this again’!!” His companion smacked him upside the head and shoved him toward the classroom.
Jiang Yan stood with his head down, laughing quietly. He pulled out his phone from his pocket, and as his gaze drifted idly to the side, it landed on Lin Tao.
His eyes stopped.
The next second.
Lin Tao had just finished filling her thermos and turned around — and saw him. She stopped in her tracks. The girl standing behind her wasn’t paying attention and nudged forward.
The movement sloshed a little hot water over the rim of the thermos, scalding the back of Lin Tao’s hand. The water was burning hot. Startled, she lost her grip, and the thermos clattered to the floor.
A dull thud — the lid tilted, and hot water spread across the tiles, splashing a little on the girls nearby. Shrieks broke out in short, sharp bursts.
Lin Tao apologised quickly. “I’m so sorry.”
The girl who had bumped into her spoke up for her. “No no, it wasn’t her fault — I wasn’t watching and walked into her. Is everyone okay?”
Both had already apologised, and since neither had meant any harm, the others let it go easily. “We’re fine, lucky we’re all wearing thick layers.”
The pre-class bell rang, and the crowd began to disperse.
Lin Tao bent down to pick up her thermos — and then a pair of white sneakers appeared in her field of vision. A moment later, someone else reached it first.
The hand that reached down was pale and slender, the knuckles defined, a white wrist brace around the wrist. His familiar presence swept over her from all sides.
Lin Tao straightened up. They were unexpectedly close — her entire view was filled with the sharp lines of his jaw. She stepped back a little.
The young man’s gaze was cool and distant, his tone no more welcoming. “Are you slow or something?”
“……”
Lin Tao felt a strange pang, almost like being wronged. She said nothing, and out of sheer stubbornness snatched the thermos back from his hand. The back of the hand now visible in the open was marked with a large patch of angry red from the scalding — a stark contrast against the surrounding pale skin. It looked alarming.
The instant she pulled her hand back, her wrist was caught. A warm palm pressed against her pulse.
Lin Tao looked up. The young man’s eyes weren’t on her — they were fixed on the burned skin on the back of her hand, his long lashes falling low, his expression unreadable.
She tried to pull her hand back.
Jiang Yan didn’t let go. Instead he tightened his grip — not noticing the force, and in doing so pulled her whole body toward him. Her forehead knocked against his chin; her arm pressed against the warmth of his chest.
The sudden contact left them both momentarily stunned.
Jiang Yan was the first to recover. He pulled her by the wrist to the nearby sink, turned on the tap, and cold water came rushing down — all of it streaming over the back of her hand.
The sound of running water filled the silence.
Lin Tao quietly raised her eyes and looked at him.
The young man’s face was turned to the side. Dappled light and shadow from outside the window fell across the tips of his lashes, scattering fine, broken light and casting a soft shadow along one side. His gaze remained fixed on the back of her hand — his expression, unexpectedly, was one of complete and careful attention.
A long silence.
The young man seemed to become aware of something. He looked up at her briefly — his cool, detached gaze faltered for just an instant — and reached over to turn off the tap.
He looked at her for a moment, then finally let out a quiet breath. He raised his hand, and his cold fingers brushed lightly against the corner of her eye, his voice low and helpless. “I haven’t even said anything yet. What are you crying for?”