After the exams, a heavy rain fell over Nanjiang and the weather began to cool. The city finally eased into a refreshing autumn in November. People began wearing long-sleeved dresses, and with the new season came softer colors throughout the school.

After the midterm results were released, the hostility Lin Weixia’s classmates had harbored toward her dropped sharply. In this ecosystem of competition and mutual wariness, Lin Weixia had not played by their rules — she lent out her notebooks without reservation, and when classmates came to her with questions, she answered them with patience.

In this exam, Lin Weixia’s score was high, but the special skills column on her enrollment form had been marked as “none,” so when the cumulative score was tallied, she was still a fraction short of making it into the A-tier students.

She didn’t seem to mind being outscored or having someone close in on her from behind. In other words, she appeared indifferent to the hierarchy of grades.

Because of Lin Weixia’s results, the A-tier students began to view her differently. At the same time, her openness about her study methods and her earnest, straightforward approach to learning caused those students to look at her with less contempt and more appreciation.

As for the other F-tier students, they found Lin Weixia good-looking, approachable, patient and clear and logical when explaining things. More and more people began to seek out her friendship.

Liu Sijia, meanwhile, stopped fixating on Ban Sheng — no longer cataloguing what color he wore each day, no longer secretly photographing the line of his throat as he tilted his head back to drink cold water. She redirected her attention to her studies. Her in-class quizzes and assignments grew better with each passing one, and the teachers’ satisfied gazes returned to her, rather than constantly bringing up Lin Weixia’s name.

After class, the girl with blunt-cut bangs stood at the corner hesitating for a long time, then finally walked in the direction of Lin Weixia’s seat, wanting to borrow her notes.

Lin Weixia had apparently noticed her too, and gave her a small smile.

As if encouraged, the girl quickened her pace — only to collide with a thud into someone at the second-to-last row.

The girl with blunt-cut bangs clutched her forehead in pain. When she saw who it was, she instinctively stepped back, hung her head, and murmured: “I’m sorry.”

“Hey, you little fish-scale girl — are you trying to die?! Do you know how much this shirt costs if you’ve dirtied it?”

Zheng Zhaoxing’s face was full of displeasure. He stepped closer, his expression making it obvious he was looking for a reason to bother her.

But Lin Weixia had seen it clearly — Zheng Zhaoxing had deliberately stepped into the girl’s path, causing her to walk into him. She stood up and walked over: “She didn’t do it on purpose.”

Zheng Zhaoxing snapped his head around. The aggression that had filled his face vanished completely the moment he saw Lin Weixia. She stood there, her black hair hanging to her waist, lips red and teeth white, her delicate chin tilted upward as she looked at him with tension in her expression.

He let out a low whistle: “Fine, I’ll let it go today for the sake of a pretty face.”

After Zheng Zhaoxing left, the girl with blunt-cut bangs exhaled in relief. She practically squeezed the words out through her lips: “Thank you. I came to… borrow the main subject notes.”

Lin Weixia turned back to her seat and handed over her red and green softcover notebooks together, saying warmly: “If there’s anything you don’t understand, feel free to come and ask me.”

The girl with blunt-cut bangs nodded.

At noon after class, Lin Weixia and Liu Sijia appeared together in the school canteen. Liu Sijia was having her usual slimming meal. Lin Weixia had been feeling guilty about always eating Liu Sijia’s packed lunches, so she had asked Liu Sijia to stop bringing them and they switched to eating in the canteen instead.

Liu Sijia ate a couple of bites and set down her chopsticks, her face flat and expressionless. Ning Chao happened to pass by carrying a bowl of rice noodle soup, glanced at her food, and gave a derisive snort: “Even chickens don’t eat this pathetically.”

In less than a second, the queenly composure on Liu Sijia’s face collapsed. She lifted her chin and narrowed her eyes, a hint of irritation in her voice: “Who are you calling a chicken?”

The next instant, the overpowering smell of Ning Chao’s rice noodle soup hit her like a weapon. Liu Sijia pinched her nose and turned away sharply. Ning Chao’s tone was leisurely as he shot back:

“Jumped to conclusions on your own, did you?”

“You —” Liu Sijia fumed.

But she knew it was pointless to argue with a delinquent like him. She simply turned back to talk to Lin Weixia instead. Seeing he couldn’t rile up this high-and-mighty young miss, Ning Chao picked up his tray and strolled away without a care.

Lin Weixia reached out and took hold of Liu Sijia’s hand. The bones she felt beneath her palm were sharp enough to feel uncomfortable. Her eyes showed concern: “Sijia, you’re beautiful no matter how thin or not you are. Won’t you eat a little more?”

Ever since Lin Weixia had become inseparable from Liu Sijia, she had noticed that Liu Sijia always ate very little. If it was simply about managing her figure, she was already thinner than the average slender person.

Liu Sijia managed a forced smile and patted her hand: “It’s alright — I’ve never had much of an appetite. Everything tastes the same to me. It would be nice if staying alive just required an IV drip of saline.”

While the two were talking, a tall, lean figure descended over them, accompanied by the faint scent of oud wood. A silver tray landed on the table across from them with a clunk. Lin Weixia looked up and met a pair of casually indifferent eyes.

“Is anyone sitting here?” Ban Sheng tilted his head slightly and asked Liu Sijia.

“No.” Liu Sijia’s voice was delighted. She was just about to add “Ban Sheng, sit across from me” when Qiu Minghua set his tray down and plopped into the seat in front of her.

Liu Sijia gave a silent eye-roll.

The group continued eating. From the moment Ban Sheng sat down, the gazes of nearby students kept drifting toward this table. Liu Sijia was well used to being the center of attention and was in high spirits.

Lin Weixia kept her head down and ate quietly without speaking. A pair of distinctly-knuckled hands appeared in her peripheral vision, reaching for a carton of milk, the tendons on the back of his hand standing out as his hand arched.

Liu Sijia prodded a piece of broccoli with her chopsticks, her red lips bright: “Ban Sheng, can I ask you something?”

Ban Sheng raised an eyebrow to signal her to go ahead. Liu Sijia shifted her gaze to the milk carton in his hand and tapped her cheek with one finger: “Why do you drink one carton of milk every single day?”

Always the same brand, without exception.

“To grow taller.” Ban Sheng’s answer was crisp and decisive.

Everyone at the table: “…”

Qiu Minghua especially — he was mid-sip of soup and choked so hard at this that his neck practically swelled, while Ban Sheng didn’t even glance up.

“You want to grow even more — you’re already 187 centimeters, how tall do you want to get?! Are you trying to make the rest of us short people feel like we can’t go on living?”

After shaking Ban Sheng by the shoulder, Qiu Minghua leaned against him and draped an arm over his shoulders: “Ban-brother, your shoulders are so broad — leaning on them feels incredibly safe.”

Lin Weixia was putting food in her mouth when, for no particular reason, she recalled the time she had hitched a ride with Ban Sheng in the Qian-jiao district. She had accidentally fallen against him, and her forehead had bumped into his jaw. They had been pressed so close that she had felt the vibration of his chest.

“Those shoulders, that muscle —”

“Weixia, why are you eating a chili pepper?” Liu Sijia looked genuinely alarmed.

Lin Weixia looked up: “Hmm?”

Everyone was looking at her — and she happened to meet Ban Sheng’s gaze. He was leaning back in his chair, watching her with a composed sort of leisure, his eyes holding the roguish gleam of someone thinking: I wonder if you’re thinking what I think you’re thinking.

Her sense of taste belatedly came back online. She realized she had stuffed a green chili pepper into her mouth, mistaking it for a green bean. In her fluster, her throat tightened and she began coughing loudly — the kind that started in her chest and worked its way up her neck, turning her ears shrimp-red, and sending tears welling up in her eyes.

Liu Sijia quickly handed her a glass of water. Lin Weixia took it and tipped her head back, drinking in small sips.

Just then, a bespectacled boy rushed past with his tray and accidentally knocked over a bowl of soup at the edge of the neighboring table. The broth and grease splashed onto Lin Weixia, and a large, glistening stain rapidly spread across the white uniform blouse of the young girl.

Lin Weixia immediately stood up, grabbed her shirt, and accepted the napkins someone handed her, dabbing at the stain.

The bespectacled boy immediately tried to slip away in the confusion. Ban Sheng, without looking up from his bowl, reached out and pulled him back. His voice dropped low, his tone giving nothing away:

“Apologize.”

“It’s her fault for putting the bowl so close to the edge,” the bespectacled boy argued.

Ban Sheng calmly tightened his grip on the boy’s wrist — clearly enough that the boy’s face scrunched with pain as he yelped repeatedly. Ban Sheng’s manner remained entirely indifferent:

“Don’t make me say it twice.”

The boy twisted around in pain, wanting to see just who could speak with such authority. When he finally made out the face, he froze abruptly, his expression shifting dramatically.

The bespectacled boy began bowing and apologizing in rapid succession: “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry — it was entirely my fault.”

“It’s fine.” Lin Weixia shook her head.

In the student rest area, Lin Weixia walked into the changing room. Fortunately, she had an extra jacket in her locker compartment. She planned to change out of her shirt, then wash it in the bathroom and figure out how to dry it before putting it back on.

If she pulled the jacket zipper up all the way, hopefully no one would be able to tell she had only a white camisole underneath. Lin Weixia was still hesitating when a gentle knock sounded on the partition door.

The door opened a crack. Liu Sijia slipped through a brown paper bag. Lin Weixia took it and looked inside — it was a new school uniform, and the size was exactly right.

Lin Weixia exhaled with relief and began changing. Liu Sijia stood outside with her back against the door, lighting a cigarette:

“That uniform is from Ban Sheng.”

“Where did he get one?” Lin Weixia’s movements stilled mid-change, her back a pale expanse of white.

Liu Sijia tilted her head with a smile from outside the door: “Did you forget? The school uniform supply chain runs through him.”

“Even Ban Sheng knows you’re my best friend — he specifically sent the uniform over.” Liu Sijia exhaled a breath of smoke.

Lin Weixia continued changing. Her hair was very long and kept sweeping around, until — with a sharp sound — something rolled off and hit the floor. Lin Weixia felt a flash of panic and crouched down to search for it.

Liu Sijia’s smile was brilliant, her tone breezy: “You mustn’t let me down after all my goodwill. And this exam result letting you surpass me — that was an accident.”

Lin Weixia crouched on the floor searching around. Her school uniform was only half on, and her black hair spilled loose down her back, revealing a strip of white camisole and the two graceful shoulder blades that jutted beautifully from her back like butterfly wings poised for flight.

At last she found it. Lin Weixia stood up, the world returned to normal, and she finished dressing and did up the buttons. Her voice was soft: “Sijia, don’t worry.”

The noise faded away. Only the dripping of an improperly closed tap could be heard outside, falling drop by drop.

As though everything had quietly settled into place.

After noon, no one knew who started it, but a rumor spread wildly — that Ban Sheng cared so deeply for Liu Sijia’s interests that he had gone out of his way to stand up for Lin Weixia on her behalf. The ambiguous speculation between the two of them continued, while Lin Weixia was thoroughly reduced to background scenery in their story.

Lin Weixia came out of the office with a stack of exam papers, surrounded by the warm smell of freshly printed transfer paper. The classroom was nearly empty — the second period was a physics lab, so everyone had gone to claim seats, while Lin Weixia had fallen behind because she needed to collect the papers.

She put the papers away, turned around, and happened to catch a glimpse of someone standing at the back door. Ban Sheng was leaning against the back doorframe with that roguish ease of his, utterly without propriety. Lin Weixia pretended not to see him and walked straight past, intending to leave — only for Ban Sheng to extend one long leg across the doorway, blocking her exit.

Lin Weixia was mildly exasperated and was just about to say something when Ban Sheng opened his palm to reveal a leaf-shaped amber pendant resting in it. Lin Weixia’s pupils contracted sharply. She reached out instinctively to take it.

His hand closed around it. She met a pair of narrow, pitch-black eyes. Ban Sheng’s tone was leisurely: “You dropped this at noon.”

He watched her reaction, then raised an eyebrow: “Something important?”

From those lovely almond-shaped eyes, Ban Sheng finally saw a different emotion — like a surging tide, brimming with complex feeling, rushing toward him.

Seeing Lin Weixia so distressed, Ban Sheng’s expression shifted slightly. He looked away, let out a very soft, quiet scoff, and said:

“Tell you what. Beg me for it.

“And I’ll consider giving it back.”