The evening self-study sessions at the affiliated middle school were for independent study. Teachers took turns supervising, sitting at two desks outside in the hallway where students could ask questions without disturbing their classmates. The school prohibited teachers from using evening sessions for regular classes.

However, according to Xin Xiaohe, after every exam, some teachers would secretly use the evening sessions to go over test papers, with Wang Wei being particularly notorious for this.

The evening study had three periods. Day students could leave after the second period at 9:30 PM, though they could choose to stay longer. Boarding students had to stay until 10:30 PM.

With barely any homework at the start of the semester, everyone was dismissed after the second period that evening.

Xin Xiaohe and her roommates had planned to get late-night snacks at the North Gate, and the girls enthusiastically invited Sheng Xia to join them.

The North Gate was a small entrance facing the Wenbo Garden residential complex—the same place where Sheng Xia had previously taken a shortcut and caused the bicycle accident. She hadn’t gone that way since, instead properly detouring through the South Gate.

“The North Gate isn’t just about late-night snacks—it’s part of our school’s culture! Come experience it!” Xin Xiaohe said.

But Wang Lianhua knew when evening study ended, and would nag if she came home too late.

Besides, Sheng Xia wasn’t very brave. While she’d have company right after school let out, she felt nervous about cycling alone later when everything would be quiet.

She was studying Marxism, yet her mind was filled with thoughts of ancient things.

Sheng Xia politely declined Xin Xiaohe’s invitation, promising to join next time after getting approval from home.

…

Just as Sheng Xia stepped through her front door, Wang Lianhua arrived home with Wu Qiuxuan and Zheng Dongning after their classes.

While Sheng Xia attended school, her two younger sisters went to summer enrichment classes, which normally ended earlier.

The four of them crowded awkwardly by the entrance, changing their shoes.

Wu Qiuxuan, annoyed at how slow they were, walked into the house barefoot with a dark expression and slammed her bedroom door shut with a thunderous bang.

Though used to such scenes, Sheng Xia still asked, “What’s wrong with Xuan?”

Wang Lianhua snorted disdainfully and replied irritably, “What else? Your father promised to take her and Ningning out for dinner tomorrow, but now he’s canceled again.”

This was nothing new, so Sheng Xia said no more.

Zheng Dongning was upset too, but being a child, she was easily placated. Wang Lianhua had bought her a new set of paintbrushes on the way home, which successfully diverted her attention. As soon as they entered, she set up her sketchbook on the coffee table and silently started testing the colors.

Because of this incident, Wang Lianhua was in a poor mood and didn’t ask about Sheng Xia’s first day. The carefully prepared speech Sheng Xia had rehearsed—focusing on the positives while downplaying the negatives—went unused.

The family quietly went about their evening routines, each returning to their rooms.

Sheng Xia half-reclined against her headboard, retrieving her phone from the drawer to charge it.

It was the latest iPhone model, delivered by Brother Li on Sheng Mingfeng’s behalf. Her father had said that since she was starting her final year of high school, it was a crucial period. If she had any requests or things she couldn’t discuss with her mother, she should contact him. He’d told her not to push herself too hard, saying there were many paths to success, and a top university wasn’t the only way forward—everyone had their purpose in life, and there was no need to torture herself.

Wang Lianhua didn’t yet know about this phone’s existence.

Sheng Xia wasn’t particularly interested in electronic devices. She had a basic student phone that she only used to call Wang Lianhua, which could go without charging for half a month due to minimal use.

Her most frequently used electronic device was the Kindle that Wang Lianhua had bought her.

This phone seemed excessive for her needs.

Brother Li had gotten her a new number and set up WeChat for her, where she only had two contacts: Brother Li and Sheng Mingfeng. She understood what this meant.

After turning on the phone, she hesitated for a long time on the WeChat page before finally composing and sending a message.

“Dad, the girls miss you.”

After about half an hour with no response, Sheng Xia heaved a deep sigh, turned off the light, and went to bed.

She couldn’t sleep. After tossing and turning several times, she gave up and got up to memorize vocabulary words.

She had already previewed Unit 1’s vocabulary and had spent the entire evening study session reviewing it without issue. But now, looking at the words again, everything seemed to relate to her current worries.

Administration;

Capture;

Fascinate;

Centre on;

Send in…

Sheng Mingfeng was a good official, but not a good husband.

Was he a good father?

Sheng Xia couldn’t judge.

…

As expected, Sheng Xia woke up late the next day and rushed to school without breakfast. Pressed for time, she chose to take the shortcut through Wenbo Garden, where she saw a familiar mountain bike emerge from beneath the high-rise apartment building.

The young man was wearing his school uniform today. With his long legs, the typically baggy uniform looked rather fitting on him, the blue and white colors radiating youthfulness in the morning sun.

He rode quickly, the wind inflating his uniform like a balloon. As he turned a corner, the wind direction changed, causing the fabric to deflate and cling to his slender back.

The mountain bike and electric scooter entered the North Gate one after another, then proceeded to the bike shed in the same fashion.

The shed was still crowded, forcing them to park far apart.

Then the boy and girl entered Class Six’s back door one after another.

Zhang Shu only noticed someone entering behind him when she passed by, bringing a whiff of fragrance—the same scent that had followed him all the way.

His gaze fell on her oversized gym uniform. While the top fit reasonably well, the pants could have fit another person her size.

Hou Junqi wasn’t wrong—someone this thin who walked without making a sound, what else could she be but a ghost?

The morning reading bell rang just seconds after Sheng Xia took her seat. She patted her chest in relief—she’d barely avoided being late on her first day.

Xin Xiaohe was focused on previewing physics, making Sheng Xia feel somewhat ashamed. Despite having such good grades, others were still so diligent and serious, while she, a slow learner, hadn’t even started working hard.

“Morning, Xiaxia!” Xin Xiaohe greeted her. “Your timing is as precise as Zhang Shu’s.”

“I didn’t sleep well and woke up late, ugh,” Sheng Xia replied.

“Haha, too excited about transferring schools?” Xin Xiaohe asked.

“Maybe,” Sheng Xia went along with it. “What time did you arrive?”

“Six-thirty,” said Xin Xiaohe.

Sheng Xia’s shame intensified. Though boarding students typically arrived earlier than day students, when she was a boarding student at No. 2 High School, she would arrive at 7:30 AM to find only a few scattered students in the classroom.

“That’s so early,” she remarked.

Xin Xiaohe replied, “That’s normal for boarding students. Some from our dorm come as early as five.”

On the first morning of the new semester, the pressure hit Sheng Xia like a wave. She felt like an ordinary person who had stumbled into Godzilla’s universe.

Today’s morning reading was for Chinese class, and before it began, the Chinese teacher Fu Jie needed to select a new class representative.

Several students eagerly raised their hands, which surprised Sheng Xia. At No. 2 High School, being class representative meant being a workhorse, and no one wanted to do it—teachers always had to “appoint” someone.

“Anyone else wants to run?” Fu Jie suddenly turned her gaze toward the back rows. “New student, would you like to participate in the election?”

All eyes turned to the back.

Fu Jie introduced her: “Student Sheng Xia scored fourth in the city last semester in Chinese, with full marks in composition. Everyone should learn from her.”

Hou Junqi in the front row suddenly spun around again, making Sheng Xia’s desk wobble.

His eyes lit up as he encouraged her: “That’s amazing, little Sheng Xia! Run for it! Your friend will vote for you!”

Sheng Xia had been organizing her stationery when she was suddenly called on. Her hands froze as she noticed almost the entire class looking at her, and a hint of pink crept up to her ears.

Her skin was white, translucently so, making that touch of red even more noticeable.

She shook her head. “No, thanks.”

The volume was so low that Fu Jie at the podium could barely have heard it without seeing her lips move.

Fu Jie raised an eyebrow, looking somewhat disappointed, but nodded, “Alright, then would the candidates please come up and say a few words?”

She had just been responding to Hou Junqi, but since the teacher had heard, she didn’t repeat herself.

Hou Junqi sighed regretfully as if disappointed by wasted potential. “Ah… I thought I might have to submit fewer weekly journals.”

Sheng Xia lowered her head, her small reddened ears visible.

By now, almost the entire class had noticed: that this new student was truly shy.

And she was surrounded by the three most formidable people—Xin Xiaohe, Hou Junqi, and Zhang Shu.