It Was All Up to Him
As soon as Chen Luobai sat down, he noticed something different about the person sitting diagonally in front of him. The girl seemed shorter than usual, half-hidden behind Zhu Ran’s book with only the top of her head visible.
Her fine black hair was tucked behind her ear, revealing a startlingly white earlobe.
He was drowsy and didn’t pay much attention. He casually hung his backpack on the chair and slumped onto the desk.
Before he could close his eyes, he heard Zhu Ran ask a question.
Chen Luobai raised his head.
Zhou Anran couldn’t see what was happening behind her. Her fingers tightened around her pen, the tips turning white.
As self-study was about to begin, the classroom was nearly full, and the chatter grew louder than before.
Voices rose from all directions.
“Have you finished your homework?”
“Is the English teacher going to quiz us on vocabulary today?”
“Sigh… why do we have to start class again?”
Various voices mingled together.
All of them were unfamiliar.
The familiar voice she was waiting for hadn’t spoken yet.
Those few seconds suddenly seemed to stretch into a thin, long line, wrapping around her heart, causing a tight, suffocating feeling.
Then Zhou Anran finally heard him speak.
“What senior?” His tone was lazy as if he genuinely lacked energy.
As if…
He didn’t know what Zhu Ran was talking about.
Zhou Anran’s grip on the pen relaxed, and she quietly let out a breath.
But before she could fully exhale, Zhu Ran’s voice rang out again: “You know, the senior who stopped you last Thursday afternoon to confess to you?”
Zhou Anran’s heart leaped into her throat once more.
Chen Luobai, reminded by this, finally recalled the incident. He slumped back onto the desk, his voice still lazy and scattered: “Who said that senior was confessing to me?”
Zhu Ran: “If she wasn’t confessing to you, why did she ask us to leave so she could talk to you alone?”
“She asked me about a math problem,” Chen Luobai’s voice was heavy with drowsiness.
Zhu Ran looked surprised: “A math problem? She asked you?”
“Is that not allowed?” Chen Luobai closed his eyes again. “I can handle second-year high school math, you know.”
Zhu Ran paused for a second: “Right, I forgot you’re a learning machine, not a human.”
Chen Luobai was too tired to bother responding.
Zhou Anran sat in the front row, her back still stiff, but her heart slowly settled back down.
He was indeed excellent at math.
And his attitude was so straightforward, without a hint of ambiguity.
So it must have been true that he was just stopped to answer a math question.
Zhou Anran forced herself to pull her thoughts away from the desk behind her, intending to memorize a few more vocabulary words. However, the conversation behind her didn’t end there.
After a few seconds of silence, Zhu Ran, still curious, asked, “So that senior just asked you about math that day? She didn’t ask for your contact info or anything. And you didn’t chat with her last night?”
Chen Luobai, who had just started to doze off, was awakened again: “No. Chat with your sister.”
“I don’t have a sister,” Zhu Ran said with a grin. “If I had one, you could chat with her all you want. I’d even send her to your house as a child bride.”
Chen Luobai couldn’t help but lift his head. He stretched out his long leg and gave Zhu Ran’s chair a light kick, laughing and cursing, “Get lost. Whoever becomes your sister would have the worst luck in eight lifetimes.”
Zhu Ran steadied his chair: “So if you weren’t chatting with the senior, why do you look so exhausted? What were you doing last night?”
Chen Luobai yawned: “Watching basketball.”
“Oh, you stayed up to watch last night’s game too?” Zhu Ran became noticeably more excited. “That last-second game-winner was so cool.”
“Cool my ass,” Chen Luobai slumped back onto the desk. “They were leading by nearly 20 points in the first three quarters, then got overtaken in the last quarter. Couldn’t even break a simple 3-2 zone defense. The rhythm was a mess, everyone was sleepwalking. If it weren’t for that last-second shot, it would’ve been voted one of the worst games.”
Zhou Anran hadn’t meant to eavesdrop on their conversation.
But they were so much closer than usual.
And she rarely had the chance to be this close to him. She couldn’t calm her heart at all, his voice seemed to automatically find its way into her ears.
Though what was a 3-2 zone defense?
Next time she watched basketball with her dad, she’d have to pay even more attention.
Zhu Ran held the opposite opinion: “The process doesn’t matter. As long as the ending is cool, it’s fine. A game-winner is all about that heroic feeling of one person saving the entire game.”
Chen Luobai yawned again: “A hero might save one game, but he can’t save a team with scattered hearts.”
“Let’s drink and be merry, we’ll worry about future games later,” Zhu Ran casually replied, then asked, “But the game ended at just 3 AM, why are you so tired?”
Chen Luobai: “I was too worked up to sleep, so I did a few sets of practice papers before going to bed.”
Zhu Ran: “…”
Zhu Ran was filled with respect: “You’re incredible.”
Chen Luobai was getting a headache from all the talking: “Let me sleep for a bit.”
“Go ahead,” Zhu Ran was quiet for a few seconds. “But Luo—”
Chen Luobai: “Shut up. Keep talking and you can forget about those sneakers.”
After this, the back row finally fell silent.
Zhou Anran sat diagonally in front of him, her back stiff and slightly sore.
The boy behind her had stopped talking, but she still couldn’t focus on a single word.
Every letter seemed to float before her eyes.
But being able to sit so close to him was a brief, soon-to-be-reclaimed little blessing.
So she didn’t force herself anymore, allowing herself to indulge for a short moment.
When Wang Qintong returned, Zhou Anran switched back to her seat. As the morning self-study bell rang, she finally calmed down and immersed herself in her studies.
The day quickly passed in a blur of tight schedules and teachers running overtime.
After the last math class ended, Zhou Anran had a concept she didn’t fully grasp, so she stayed behind for a few minutes. By the time she figured it out, the classroom had already quieted down. Yan Xingxi sat beside her, chewing on soft candy while waiting.
Seeing her put down her pen, Yan Xingxi pressed a piece of candy to her lips: “All done?”
Zhou Anran ate the candy at her lips and nodded, mumbling: “Mm-hmm.”
The back door of Class 2 was next to the stairs, and their classmates often left through it.
Zhou Anran had just started packing up when she realized Chen Luobai was still in the classroom.
The boy was asleep on his desk, his entire face buried in his arms. His hair was a pure black, and with his sleeves half-rolled up, the exposed skin of his arms was a cool white.
He seemed to have been seizing every opportunity to catch up on sleep today.
He slept during morning self-study, somehow found an excuse to skip the flag-raising ceremony during the long break to sleep through it, slept through the lunch break, and was still sleeping during the afternoon breaks.
There were still other students in the classroom, so Zhou Anran didn’t dare stare at him too openly. She swallowed the soft candy, its sweet taste suddenly becoming long-lasting, lingering in her mouth.
Yan Xingxi came around and linked arms with her: “What should we eat today?”
Zhou Anran glanced at him again and softly shushed her: “Keep it down, someone’s sleeping.”
Yan Xingxi also looked in his direction and mouthed to her: “Let’s talk outside.”
To leave through the back, they had to pass by his seat.
The boy’s elbow slightly extended beyond the desk. At the closest point, her uniform seemed to faintly brush against his elbow, or perhaps it didn’t.
Zhou Anran’s heart secretly quickened by a few beats, unnoticed by anyone else.
Suddenly, a gust of wind blew in from the window, causing the test papers on the windowsill seats to rustle loudly.
Zhou Anran thought of the boy’s exposed, cool white arm and hesitated for a moment.
Yan Xingxi forgot someone was sleeping and raised her voice again: “What’s wrong?”
“Shh.” Zhou Anran reminded her, then pointed at the window, lowering her voice to find an excuse, “Zhang Yue’s test papers look like they’re about to be blown away. I’ll go close the window.”
After closing the window, the two girls left the classroom arm in arm through the back door.
Class 2’s classroom fell silent again. The boy lying on the desk lifted his head slightly, then slumped back down.
Once downstairs, Zhou Anran felt the wind outside had grown stronger. Fallen leaves were swept up in swirling eddies, and the cold breeze snuck in through the loose collar of her uniform, chilling her fingertips.
She zipped up her jacket a bit more, slightly regretting not having closed the back door for him earlier.
But people frequently came in and out of the classroom, so even if she had closed it, someone might have opened it again.
Yan Xingxi was still chatting with her about dinner plans, struggling to decide: “Anran, should I have stir-fried pork with chili or twice-cooked pork with dried tofu tonight?”
Zhou Anran’s mind was still partly in the classroom, and she didn’t feel particularly hungry: “Have both. I’ll order one for you, and we can share.”
Yan Xingxi was about to agree when she suddenly felt something was off. She abruptly stopped in her tracks.
Zhou Anran: “What’s wrong?”
“I think I just started my period,” Yan Xingxi’s face fell. “Oh no, I don’t think I brought any pads.”
“Don’t panic, I brought some for you.” Zhou Anran knew her friend’s personality too well. Even if reminded, she’d likely forget, so Zhou Anran had prepared some herself. “Let’s go to the first-floor bathroom and check. If you have started, I’ll go back to the classroom to get them for you.”
Yan Xingxi hugged her tightly: “Wuwuwu, Anran, I love you so much. What would I do without you?”
Zhou Anran laughed and pushed her away: “Stop being so mushy. Let’s go, or you’ll end up staining your pants and crying.”
Yan Xingxi shuddered at the thought and pulled her along quickly: “Let’s go, let’s go.”
In the first-floor bathroom, Yan Xingxi confirmed that her period had indeed arrived.
Zhou Anran went back to the classroom alone to get supplies for her.
Thinking that she could openly look at him a few more times when entering through the back door, and also close the back door for him when leaving, Zhou Anran quickened her pace.
But just as she reached the last step, the face that had been imprinted in her mind suddenly appeared before her eyes.
The boy who had been sleeping was now leaning against the wall by the back door, his eyebrows drooping, still looking rather lethargic.
And he wasn’t the only one outside the back door.
Opposite him stood a girl, tall and slender, with her hair tied up high. Her face was adorned with delicate makeup, making her strikingly beautiful. She was gazing at him intently.
The excitement in Zhou Anran’s heart turned sour, like rice wine that had fermented too long.
As if hearing footsteps, the girl turned to look at Zhou Anran for a moment, then dismissively returned her gaze to Chen Luobai, her eyes bright once more.
The boy seemed to have heard too, his eyelids slowly lifting as if about to look in her direction.
Zhou Anran’s heart tightened, and she suddenly lowered her head as she walked into the classroom.
But the girl’s voice carried clearly to her ears, her attitude open and straightforward.
“I know you rejected me last Thursday, and I’m not here to confess again today. I just want to get your contact information. I won’t bother you, can we just be ordinary friends?”
Zhou Anran had already entered through the back door, but her steps involuntarily faltered.
The other voice from outside remained silent.
Zhou Anran felt as if her heart was once again wrapped in long, thin threads.
And the end of those threads was in the hands of the boy outside. Whether they would tighten or loosen depended entirely on his response.
Though he didn’t know it.