Having received Zhou Tingzhao’s praise, Sang Ru proudly hummed in satisfaction and seized the opportunity to ask: “So do I get a reward?”

Her pupils were bright, like a child asking for candy. Zhou Tingzhao didn’t hesitate: “Sure, what do you want?”

“Can I have anything?”

She was relentlessly setting a trap for him, but he didn’t fall for it, only saying: “Depends on what it is.”

“Stingy,” Sang Ru muttered, then grew even more audacious as she leaned closer to him, whispering in his ear, “Would it be okay if I asked you to put it in?”

Zhou Tingzhao’s hand, which had been playing with a pen, froze. After a long while, he slowly raised his eyes, his gaze landing lightly on the person who had spoken those words.

Sang Ru blinked, then heard his merciless response: “No.”

He was completely unmoved. If he was still being so persistent because of her age, Sang Ru felt she might go crazy with frustration. She couldn’t exactly tell him directly: I’m nine years older than you!

She frowned, half genuinely angry: “Why not?”

Before Zhou Tingzhao could answer, someone parted through the dense crowd and called to her: “Sang Ru, someone’s looking for you.”

“Coming.”

Sang Ru stood up and saw Luo He leaning against the back door with his arms crossed, looking at her with an amused expression.

She tossed another “hmph” at Zhou Tingzhao before walking out, not noticing that Zhou Tingzhao had turned his head and silently watched them for a moment.

“What do you want?”

“How rude,” Luo He abandoned his position against the door and said lazily, “I came to see if you’ve recovered from your illness.”

Sang Ru deliberately sneezed at him, then rubbed her nose and said: “I’m better.”

Luo He didn’t take her childish trick seriously, knowing she was well enough to have the energy to mess with him.

“Alright, you seem healthy enough,” Luo He said, lifting his chin to indicate her position. “Did you come to school or to run a zoo? You’ve just recovered, mind the ventilation.”

“I know,” Sang Ru said perfunctorily. From the corner of her eye, she spotted a familiar figure approaching, and immediately changed her tone, speaking enthusiastically, “By the way, I won the special prize in the essay competition. This weekend I’m having a celebration with some classmates. Want to come?”

As she spoke, Zhou Tingzhao walked past the two of them, looking straight ahead, apparently heading somewhere.

“Wow, impressive, congratulations,” Luo He raised his eyebrows. “But I’ll skip the celebration. I have plans. You kids have fun.”

Zhou Tingzhao had already walked several meters away and didn’t hear Luo He’s answer, but Sang Ru’s eyes remained glued to his retreating figure. She reverted to her lazy tone: “Perfect. You’d just create a generation gap anyway.”

Luo He ignored her sarcasm. They had grown up like this from childhood, so he was used to it. He looked back at the person who had just passed by and, eager to stir things up, asked: “Did you fight with your little boyfriend?”

“No.”

“Then why this atmosphere between you two?”

Exasperated, Sang Ru said: “Instead of gossiping about me, why don’t you hurry up and find a girlfriend?”

The teasing smile froze on his face. Luo He was silent for a moment, then returned to his normal demeanor and gave Sang Ru a knock on the head: “Even to obtain Buddhist scriptures, one must overcome eighty-one trials. How could finding a girlfriend be so easy? The day will come when you’ll have to call someone ‘sister-in-law.'”

Sang Ru’s eyes brightened: “So something is going on?”

Calculating the time, it seemed that by now Luo He should have already met Sister Qin Xia. The last time she had passed by her at the police station, she only thought she looked pretty and familiar, only realizing later why she seemed familiar.

Although she hadn’t seen her many times before, she was still her sister-in-law!

Since Luo He wouldn’t say more, Sang Ru continued to pretend she didn’t know, only saying: “You’d better hurry up, or you might fall behind me.”

Luo He patted her head: “Go study properly, don’t just focus on romance. I’m leaving now.”

“Go on then.”

Zhou Tingzhao had no particular destination in mind, so he had to pretend to visit the restroom as an excuse to walk past them casually.

They were chatting happily, and she even invited this neighbor brother to attend what was supposed to be a celebration for just the two of them. Zhou Tingzhao suppressed the displeasure that surged within him.

He stayed in the restroom for a moment. Water quietly flowed between his fingers, but his heart was not at peace.

Were they still talking? What were they discussing now? Had he accepted her invitation?

…

The more he thought about it, the more frustrated he became. Though his life experience was considerable, when faced with matters concerning her, he still found it difficult to remain composed.

He needed to go back and see.

The moment he walked out, the neighbor brother’s figure had just disappeared down the stairwell. The back door of the classroom was empty; she must have returned to her seat.

The concerning conversation had ended. Even as he sighed in relief, he still felt uneasy.

Perhaps no matter how intimate they had been, Sang Ru still seemed like a kite he couldn’t hold onto. The thread connecting them was too fragile, likely to break at the slightest mistake. Now with this wind blowing, even though he knew his worries were just shadows of his imagination, he couldn’t help but overthink.

Fundamentally, the bond between them was too shallow. Despite his decisive nature in the business world, when it came to her, his confidence diminished to nothing. When facing Sang Ru, perhaps Zhou Tingzhao was no longer just Zhou Tingzhao. So many people loved the princess, and he was merely one of her many admirers.

A follower who had embraced her, kissed her, yet remained anxiously uncertain.