Standing face to face, Lu Yan realized Jiang Chengyi was even taller than she’d thought—she had to tilt her head up to meet his gaze.

He was studying her intently, first her eyebrows, then her eyes, and finally the corners of her lips. After this careful examination, his gaze returned to her eyes as he said with a faint smile, “What’s your name? Let me buy you a new pair of shoes.”

Something stifling seemed to hang in the air between them.

Trying her best to ignore this strange sensation, she gave him a cool glance and said, “No need, I’ll just clean them when I get home.”

He maintained his “sincere” expression: “How about I clean them for you? I feel quite bad about dirtying them twice.”

“Just don’t dirty them a third time,” she shot him a look.

His skin was thicker than she’d imagined—seemingly oblivious to her displeasure, he just smiled and said, “If I dirty them a third time, I’ll have no choice but to buy you new ones.”

Glancing at her shoes, he “kindly” suggested, “Cleaning shoes is quite a chore. Why don’t I do it for you?”

His voice was low, with a quality that seemed to vibrate through the air. As he spoke, he kept his focused gaze on her, the amusement in his eyes inexplicably making her ears grow hot.

Could he even clean his shoes? She doubted it. Though she initially wanted to refuse outright, a mischievous impulse made her nod and say, “Alright then.”

With his basketball control skills, she didn’t believe for a second that he had “accidentally” dropped the ball twice. Since he wanted to play games, she’d let him experience the joy of shoe cleaning.

She took out her sandals from the shoe bag in her backpack, changed into them right in front of him, and then put the sneakers in the bag. With a clear conscience, she handed it to him, smiling as she said, “Thank you for the trouble.”

He showed no surprise at all and simply took the bag: “I’ll return them once they’re clean.”

Though it had been an extremely teasing suggestion, he accepted it as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Her smile froze slightly, and she suddenly recalled Tang Jie’s frequent angry phrase: “That person needs a punch—I want to hit him.”

Although she maintained her smile, she thoroughly understood that sentiment now.

“By the way, what’s your name?” he changed the subject with a straight face.

“Lu Yan,” she answered coolly.

“Lu Yan,” he repeated theatrically, deliberately pronouncing each syllable slowly and softly as if savoring a fruit candy.

Her heart rate quickened, and she frowned seriously: “Is there anything else?”

He just chuckled and said, “I’m Jiang Chengyi.”

“Oh,” she responded as if hearing the name for the first time, with casual indifference.

Over the weekend, Lu Yan stayed home reviewing her lessons.

On Monday, there was cheerleading practice. During the lunch break, remembering Jiang Chengyi’s promise to leave her shoes under the gymnasium bleachers, she left the classroom after finishing her meal.

The gymnasium was usually empty at noon. She planned to change her shoes there first, then go eat, ensuring she’d have them for afternoon practice.

To her surprise, Jiang Chengyi and other team members were practicing on the court—likely extra training ordered by the coach with the preliminary competition approaching.

When she entered, Jiang Chengyi was just completing a slam dunk, not even glancing toward the door.

Lu Yan found her spot in the bleachers and felt underneath—sure enough, there was her shoe bag.

Opening it, she found the shoes much cleaner than expected. Not just the upper part, but even the laces and insoles looked brand new.

Her cheeks grew warm, and she felt an inexplicable girlish self-consciousness.

Whether intentionally or not, at that moment, Jiang Chengyi looked in her direction, and when their eyes met, he seemed to smile.

She suddenly felt uncomfortable, no longer able to change shoes in front of him like she had that night. As she was sneaking down from the bleachers with her shoe bag, she heard someone call out to her.

It was Jiang Chengyi.

“Well, are you satisfied?” He was sweating, his short hair clinging to his forehead, as he pointed to the shoes in her hand. Though not smiling, she sensed a teasing gleam in his eyes.

“It’s acceptable,” she said critically, though with a generous smile. “Thank you.”

“Oh?” He raised an eyebrow and continued, “Have you eaten? Since you’ve been without your shoes for two days, why don’t I treat you to lunch?”

“No need, I already have plans with my classmates,” she forced a smile, refusing any further interaction. As for her reasons, she couldn’t quite explain them herself. She just felt the need to maintain her distance from him, so after speaking, she turned and left immediately.

Yet even after she’d run quite far, she could still feel someone watching her from behind.