Among the candidates’ names, Sheng Xia spotted a familiar one: Lu Youze.

It wasn’t a common name, and she was almost certain it was her middle school classmate.

But when Lu Youze went up to speak, she barely recognized him. In her memory, he had been slightly chubby and not particularly tall, but now he seemed to have shot up like a willow tree, standing a head taller than Teacher Fu Jie, having become decidedly tall and slim.

Lu Youze had scholarly features, but his self-introduction was confident and poised. His impromptu poetry quotations perfectly matched the theme and atmosphere, without any hint of affectation.

In middle school, he had been the vice chairman of the student union, hosting the flag-raising ceremony every week. Speaking at the podium in this small setting was certainly no challenge for him.

Sheng Xia somewhat envied such people, and couldn’t help but look a few extra times, thinking that among so many people, he wouldn’t notice her direct gaze. Unexpectedly, after Lu Youze finished with “I hope you’ll vote for me,” he smiled toward the back rows.

To others, it might have seemed like just a friendly closing smile, but Sheng Xia had met his gaze and knew he was politely acknowledging her attention, and also greeting her, as if to say: Hey, classmate.

Realizing her rudeness, Sheng Xia quickly lowered her head.

Back in middle school, she hadn’t been close to Lu Youze. She had been quiet and rarely participated in group activities, while Lu Youze had been the teachers’ reliable helper, excelling in moral character, academics, physical education, and arts—a well-rounded student. Their only connection had been their essay papers being posted side by side on the bulletin board after each exam. They were the kind of classmates who had barely exchanged words.

Sheng Xia ultimately voted for Lu Youze, not because he was the only one she knew, but because his speech was genuinely good.

Xin Xiaohe glanced at her ballot, “I chose Lu Youze too. His essays are amazing.”

“He was my middle school classmate,” Sheng Xia praised freely. “He was excellent at Chinese even back then.”

Xin Xiaohe exclaimed in surprise: “You went to No. 8 Middle School?”

“Yes.”

“Me too! How come I never saw you? Which class were you in?”

“Class Twenty.”

“Oh, that must be why—you were on the sixth floor, while I was in Class Three on the first floor,” Xin Xiaohe clicked her tongue. “We probably never even crossed paths, otherwise how could I have no memory of such a beauty?”

Her tone was playful, like a rake teasing a proper lady. Sheng Xia felt embarrassed by the compliment and only responded with a slight smile.

Xin Xiaohe continued: “Our school has lots of students from No. 8, several just in our class.”

Sheng Xia nodded to show she knew.

No. 8 Middle School was one of Nanli’s key middle schools, sending between two and three hundred students to South University Affiliated High School each year.

Moreover, No. 8 wasn’t just a key school—its location in Nanli’s prime district had made it practically synonymous with elite education. No. 8 students carried an extra layer of pride wherever they went. Once graduated, No. 8 alumni became particularly united, quickly forming alliances in their new schools. Even if they had never met in middle school, a simple “I’m from No. 8” was enough to establish instant familiarity.

Xin Xiaohe had become more intimate, leaning onto her desk to get closer to Sheng Xia, and whispered: “Then you must remember those top students who dominated the rankings at No. 8, right? They’re all at Affiliated now, all in the experimental class, but they’re all being completely overshadowed by that student from Town Middle in our class…”

As she spoke, Xin Xiaohe raised her eyebrows, gesturing to the right.

Sheng Xia knew she meant Zhang Shu.

No. 35 Middle School was in the suburbs, in what had been a village before Nanli expanded. Calling it a town school wasn’t wrong.

Sheng Xia’s desk wobbled again—she was used to it now. It was Hou Junqi turning around again, but this time he wasn’t looking for her. Instead, he smiled at Zhang Shu behind him and to the right, asking, “Shu, who are you voting for?”

Zhang Shu waved his ballot with an air of detachment: “Does it matter who I choose? It’s not like we’re electing a president.”

Hou Junqi stretched his leg forward and snatched Zhang Shu’s ballot, reading aloud: “Lu Youze? Did you choose him? How impartial of you!”

Zhang Shu pulled back his ballot, giving Hou Junqi a withering look.

Hou Junqi clicked his tongue twice and turned back around.

Xin Xiaohe leaned in again to whisper to Sheng Xia: “Zhang Shu and Lu Youze are rivals in love.”

Such a deep topic… Xin Xiaohe must have already considered her a No. 8 ally.

“A mysterious love triangle! The girl is the school beauty, super dramatic!”

Xin Xiaohe’s voice was very low; Sheng Xia was sure only the two of them could hear.

But from the corner of her eye, she saw Zhang Shu turn his head to glance at them.

“Glance” was her guess—from her angle, she couldn’t see his expression, but he had looked their way.

Sheng Xia felt the awkwardness of being caught gossiping about someone, and half of her face facing his direction began to burn.

Lu Youze won by an overwhelming majority. He quickly took up his position and began leading the reading.

The sound of reading aloud instantly extinguished the small flame of gossip.

After morning reading came two Chinese classes. Chinese was Sheng Xia’s strong subject, so she handled it with relative ease, but the following two physics classes were more challenging. Though she understood the lectures, she was slow with the example problems, barely keeping up with the pace.

Teachers usually started explaining when they saw most students had stopped writing, but she was always just finishing at that moment.

She secretly observed Xin Xiaohe.

Though sometimes seeming scattered in daily life, Xin Xiaohe was very focused during class, not even noticing Sheng Xia’s gaze.

Then there was Zhang Shu.

He liked to spin his pen, skillfully rotating it from left to right between his fingers. When his thumb stopped spinning, it meant he was about to write, and he wrote quickly too. After a few scratches of his pen against the paper, he’d toss it onto the desk, indicating he was done.

That pen must have been magical, as if spinning it brought solutions to problems.

He had a workbook under his textbook, and while the teacher was explaining example problems, he was already working on the corresponding exercises.

He would occasionally look up to listen for a bit.

He wore glasses while paying attention in class. So he was nearsighted, probably not too severely.

His demeanor remained as casual as ever, his long legs seeming to have no proper place, never staying properly under the desk—either lazily propped on the chair’s crossbar or sprawled carelessly into the aisle.

His canvas shoes would sway near Sheng Xia’s desk leg.

When the lunch bell rang, people poured out like dumplings falling into the water.

“If you’re not enthusiastic about eating, there must be something wrong with your thinking. Let’s go!” Xin Xiaohe grabbed her bag and rushed out.

Yang Linyu, rushing alongside her, couldn’t help but tease: “You’re too enthusiastic, maybe eat a bit slower?”

Xin Xiaohe gave Yang Linyu another knock on the head: “Am I eating your family’s rice?”

The sound of their bickering faded as they walked away.

Boarding students usually ate in the cafeteria, and if they went late, there wouldn’t be much good food left. Only day students weren’t in a hurry.

Sheng Xia had a habit of cleaning her desk thoroughly and returning all books to their proper places before leaving.

Surprisingly, both Hou Junqi and Zhang Shu remained unmoved, showing no signs of leaving.

Zhang Shu was still working on his exercise book. From the corner of her eye, Sheng Xia saw him turn a page—he had almost finished today’s after-class work.

He worked unhurriedly, showing neither the suffering expression of someone trudging through assignments nor the satisfied look of someone immersed in the ocean of knowledge. His demeanor was like someone working on an assembly line—skilled, natural, without emotion.

Meanwhile, Hou Junqi had moved to the seat in front of Zhang Shu, leaning against the wall with his legs propped on his chair, playing games on his phone held horizontally.

He was waiting for Zhang Shu.

Indeed, top students work hard when others can’t see, Sheng Xia thought, but why not come an hour earlier in the morning instead of delaying lunch?

If you’re not enthusiastic about eating, there must be something wrong with your thinking.

Sheng Xia felt she was becoming increasingly nonsensical, actually worrying about other people’s business. She shook her head and started packing her bag to leave.

“Sheng Xia.”

She heard someone call and looked up.

It was Lu Youze.

Lu Youze walked toward her with his backpack, but Hou Junqi’s outstretched legs blocked his path. Hou Junqi acted as if he couldn’t see him, remaining unmoved, even crossing his legs more leisurely.

Even Sheng Xia could tell this was deliberately causing trouble.

Lu Youze didn’t seem to mind, as if not bothering to argue, and silently walked around to the other aisle to reach Sheng Xia.

“I wasn’t sure it was you yesterday,” Lu Youze said. “Your hair has grown longer.”

Sheng Xia laughed softly: “You’ve changed quite a bit too.”

Lu Youze also laughed: “Not the chubby pale kid anymore, right?”

He had fair skin, and in middle school, some classmates had called him that.

“You’re still quite fair,” Sheng Xia didn’t like using nicknames and wasn’t sure how to respond, so she just answered casually.

“Could I ever be as fair as you?” Lu Youze’s rhetorical question carried a familiar teasing tone, steering their awkward conversation back on track. “Are you going home for lunch?”

Sheng Xia said: “I’ve signed up for lunch care, at the North Gate.”

The lunch care had been arranged by Wang Lianhua.

Wang Lianhua’s workplace wasn’t very close to home, and with only an hour-and-a-half lunch break, she didn’t have time to go home and cook. Previously, when Sheng Xia had been boarding, Wang Lianhua had arranged lunch care near the school for her two younger sisters, covering both lunch and noon rest.

This time she had found one for Sheng Xia before school even started. It wasn’t just lunch care—it provided both lunch and dinner, because after afternoon classes there was only an hour and a half before evening study sessions, making it too troublesome to go home.

Wang Lianhua had said the lunch care owner was a parent of an Affiliated student, and her child ate there too, so the ingredients and food quality were reliable.

Somehow, when Sheng Xia mentioned this, she sensed the atmosphere around her change slightly.

Hou Junqi’s eyes swept away from his fast-paced fighting game, his lips curling in an ambiguous spectator’s smile as he glanced at her briefly before looking at Zhang Shu.

Lu Youze’s smile also became slightly unnatural.

Sheng Xia politely asked in return: “What about you?”

Lu Youze said: “I eat at home. I’ll head out first then.”

Sheng Xia: “Okay, sure.”

The North Gate’s Wenbo Garden had a row of street-front shops forming a small commercial area, complete with bookstores, stationery shops, restaurants, supermarkets, fruit stores, and bubble tea shops. The second floors of most shops housed tutoring centers and cram schools, along with one lunch care facility.

The lunch care facility prepared meals based on reservations, so arrival time didn’t matter. When Sheng Xia arrived, there weren’t many people left. Being her first time, the owner was waiting to register her and issue her meal card.

Upon first seeing the owner, Sheng Xia couldn’t help but stare.

The owner appeared to be around thirty, with an oval face, long thick eyebrows above exceptionally beautiful phoenix eyes, and perfectly formed nose and lips. She was the only woman Sheng Xia had ever seen in real life who could truly be described as “stunning.”

This was true even though she dressed simply, with her long hair tied low at the nape of her neck, and wore no makeup.

Wang Lianhua had mentioned that the owner cooked all the meals herself.

Though Sheng Xia wasn’t usually very curious, she couldn’t help but wonder: how did such a beautiful woman end up becoming a cook?

And she didn’t look old enough to have a high school student?

“Here, just swipe this card when you come in the future. The card has our phone number too—if there’s anything special you’d like to eat, you can call ahead, though we can’t guarantee we’ll make it.”

Sheng Xia had been staring dazedly and only snapped back at the sound of her voice, taking the card with an “Okay.”

“Your mother said you won’t be resting here at noon, right?”

Sheng Xia answered: “Yes.”

“This card works for both meals and door access. There are beds upstairs, and though you’re not staying, we’ll keep a spot for you. You can sleep here any day if you’re pressed for time.”

Sheng Xia: “Mm, thank you.”

“Such a well-behaved young lady. Go eat now.”

The meal consisted of two meat dishes, two vegetable dishes, and a soup: braised pork ribs, stewed pork trotters, dry-fried green beans, baby cauliflower, and a shrimp tail mushroom soup.

It was truly abundant.

Being Sheng Xia’s first day, the serving auntie wasn’t sure about her portion size and gave her a full plate. She was already full after eating less than half, but not wanting to waste food, she continued eating slowly.

By the end, she was the only one left in the dining room, with two aunties already starting to wipe tables and clean up.

One auntie asked the owner while collecting bowls and chopsticks: “Xiao Jin, Shu didn’t come for lunch today?”

The owner didn’t even look up from her notebook, responding matter-of-factly: “He’s not coming anymore. Says he wants to be self-reliant, eating bran and swallowing chaff.”