The atmosphere froze for a moment.

Zhao Binlin and Xi Gaoyuan exchanged a glance, both a little startled, but mostly just utterly baffled.

Ji Chiyang froze for a second, quite embarrassed, and shot a look to the person beside him. “What’s going on?”

The other mouthed back, I have no idea either.

He and Jiang Wen had known each other since middle school, the kind of acquaintance where they’d greet each other in passing — never particularly close.

In their eyes, Jiang Wen was somewhat aloof; even when hanging out together occasionally, he spoke very little and rarely joined in their conversations. Hardly anyone dared to joke around with him.

They all knew his background was no small thing, and most of them, to varying degrees, harbored some desire to stay on his good side. So even after being shown up in public like that, Ji Chiyang could only try his best to smooth things over, laughing it off to ease the tension.

Zhao Binlin cleared his throat, striking a mock-heartbroken pose. “Young Master Ji, even a broken heart in public looks this composed, huh.”

Ji Chiyang immediately played along. “Just a joke — turns out it’s sister-in-law, my mistake, my mistake, no offense.”

Everyone burst out laughing together.

On the way back to their respective classes, Xi Gaoyuan secretly watched Jiang Wen for a while, finally unable to hold back. “You really do have a thing for her, huh? Top idol, come on, is that something to hide from a bro? Not very loyal of you.”

Jiang Wen didn’t respond, staying silent the whole time, no reaction for a long while.

As they walked into the corridor, Zhao Binlin wouldn’t let it go, nudging his arm. “Is it or isn’t it?”

Annoyed, he said impatiently, “It’s not.”

Zhao Binlin stared at him, eyes sharp, studying him closely. “Then why’d you say something like that just now?”

Jiang Wen said, indifferent, “Just saying it.”

“Bullshit, you think I’m stupid? Feng Ning seems to have a thing for you too. If you like her, why be so awkward about it? I think this girl’s great — at least she’s your sister’s type.”

“She has a boyfriend.”

Zhao Binlin stopped in his tracks, hesitating. “How would you know that?”

“Saw it.” Jiang Wen said, vague and unclear.

Zhao Binlin suddenly had a flash of insight and blurted out, “Why are you even bringing that up? I asked whether you like her or not.”

Cheng Jiajia had her arm linked with Pei Shurou’s, the two of them chatting happily. She said, seemingly offhand, “My uncle opened a horse ranch out in the western suburbs, it’s actually pretty fun. If you’re free sometime, I’ll set up a time, we can go play, you can bring some friends along too.”

“Sure, I’ll bring Jiang Wen and the others along too.” Pei Shurou suddenly smiled. “Oh right, can you do me a favor?”

Cheng Jiajia hummed in acknowledgment, turning her head. “What kind of favor?”

“Help me look into someone.”

Ever since that incident, Feng Ning had become something of a celebrity in the grade. Even second- and third-years came specifically to see what she looked like.

Not everyone approved — some thought she was deliberately courting attention.

“I’d really like to ask, where does your confidence even come from, putting on a show in front of that many people, twisting that ridiculous theory of yours into something that doesn’t even make sense.”

Feng Ning, perfectly serious, said, “Shuang Yao, I don’t like hearing that from you. What I was doing was saving the masses.”

“You’re such a drama queen, you were just putting on a show. You just wanted the spotlight, enjoying that feeling of lecturing people into confusion, feeling really accomplished about it, right?”

Feng Ning, unbothered, nodded slowly. “That’s right, I won’t deny it — I have a performer’s personality, I just like being in the spotlight, it’s written into my genes, I’ve long since accepted that about myself.”

Meng Taoyu gazed at her, full of admiration, her face flushed with excitement. “No, Feng Ning, you really are the most amazing, most distinctive person I’ve ever met. You know, I really envy how you can do whatever you want without caring what anyone else thinks. Like my grandfather says, it’s really open-minded to live that way.”

“It’s simple, really.” Feng Ning turned serious. “Before you do something, ask yourself, ‘Why am I doing this?’ Then answer yourself clearly, ‘It’s because…’ — that’s all it takes. Keep talking to yourself all the time, stay clear-headed, don’t lie to yourself by beating around the bush. Get that down first.”

Shuang Yao watched her put on such an unreasonable air and, deep down, couldn’t help but admire her.

She’d been by Feng Ning’s side since childhood, had watched her, back in elementary school, haggle petty and stubborn with vendors over fifty cents at the wet market; in middle school, hold forth eloquently against people who mocked her family background, on prejudice and the theory of inferior classes; and now, in high school, deliver an unscripted speech on the flag platform.

In this polite, restrained society, she really was, plainly and openly, both hypocritical and utterly candid.

Feng Ning usually went to jog at the sports field around six or seven in the evening, then went to self-study in the classroom until lights-out. During that stretch, there was always someone stopping her along the way to ask for her contact information.

Today’s admirer was especially persistent, chasing her all the way to the classroom door without giving up.

She came in through the back door of the classroom and sat down at her seat.

The boy leaned casually against the windowsill, chatting with her, laughing in a way that resembled a certain Taiwanese actor. “Hey, is it really that hard to get your contact info?”

“Not hard, but today’s quota’s full.”

“What do you mean?”

Feng Ning wiped her sweat, saying seriously, “I’ve set myself a rule — only five lucky people get my contact info each day, and then I pick one to actually approve. If you want in, come earlier tomorrow.”

The boy burst out laughing.

As they chatted on and on, Jiang Wen tilted his head, met eyes with the carefree boy for two seconds, and said calmly, “Close the window, you’re too loud.”

“…”

Once the boy had left, Feng Ning suddenly burst out laughing. “You’re too much, even making someone close a window for you, how smooth — are you some kind of saint?”

She kept laughing, and no one paid her any attention, so she added, “Such a strong smell of vinegar, so sour.”

Still no response.

Feng Ning let her eyelids droop and started flipping through her books and workbooks loudly, the pages crackling crisply: “Is a certain runner-up getting worked up over me? Secretly made me his life goal, huh — studying this hard this late, when you’re not usually this diligent.”

This time, he couldn’t take it anymore and responded. “You’re really annoying.”

He must have just showered — no school uniform, a loose, low-collared dark blue T-shirt, light-colored jeans, a faint, clean scent lingering on him.

After saying that, silence fell again behind her.

There were only a few people left in the classroom; the only sound was the ticking of the wall clock.

Not wanting to pay her any attention at all, he moved his pen across the paper, drawing a line, a circle, a dot. He paused, and Jiang Wen turned around, meeting her smug, confident expression head-on.

The two of them stared at each other silently like that. Feng Ning propped her chin on one hand, watching his reaction, and laughed again, drawing out her words. “Losing your composure already?”

Jiang Wen realized he’d been played again, a rare flicker of embarrassment crossing his face, though he tried hard to hide his irritation. In truth he rarely argued or bickered with anyone, but every time he ran into her, he found himself right on the edge of losing control.

He had deep-set, fan-shaped double eyelids, and when he got angry his eyes turned glossy and moist; there was a small, faint brown mole by the tail of his brow, and skin so good that even girls his age were jealous.

She suddenly grew curious. “You don’t actually like me now, do you?”

Jiang Wen’s face stiffened. He felt an inexplicable surge of being offended, his expression turning cold, and said stiffly, “Aren’t you being ridiculous? Me, like you? Do you even deserve that?”

The words were harsh and unpleasant, his usual style. But Feng Ning had long since seen through his outward show of strength; she’d realized that annoying him was more fun than pursuing him.

So she stayed perfectly unshaken, letting out a long “oh,” and said, “You’d better not get any ideas about me. First of all, you don’t deserve it. Second of all, I already have someone I like.”

After finishing, Feng Ning added, “It’s not you.”

His mind exploded.

Jiang Wen had never been in love before, didn’t know what it felt like to love someone, let alone what it felt like to be hurt.

He’d already been thrown into turmoil by her before, a feeling both irritating and addictive. And before he’d even managed to sort out his own emotions, he’d seen her getting close with other boys. So afterward, in Jiang Wen’s eyes, Feng Ning’s continued pestering of him all looked like calculated attempts to get close to him.

He grew more and more irritated, unable to calm down, until he couldn’t help but lash out and hurt her with his words.

By the time he’d finally calmed down, he couldn’t shake a lingering sense of loss, for reasons he couldn’t explain.

He also didn’t understand why, hating her fickleness so much, he’d still ended up hopelessly drawn to her.

In the end, Jiang Wen lost. He clenched both fists tight. Once he’d forced himself to relax, he calmly packed up his things on the desk and walked out.

The ceiling fan in the classroom whirred on. After their argument, Feng Ning went on solving problems as if nothing had happened, not even lifting her head until he’d walked out of the classroom.

Outside, the night sky looked as if it had been splashed with deep blue ink; the daytime heat had vanished, leaving things cool.

Before today, Jiang Wen’s emotions had still retained some measure of innocence.

Now, he could clearly feel that part of him had been shattered by someone.

She finished her math problems.

Feng Ning showed no particular expression, took out her phone, and rapidly typed out a message to Shuang Yao: “Alright, I’m done trying to reel in Jiang Wen.”

Shuang Yao: 【Why? Weren’t you supposed to teach the little prince a taste of love’s bitterness?】

Feng Ning: 【He’s probably already tasted it, but I don’t want to go all the way and finish him off, hehe XD】

Shuang Yao: 【Don’t play that with me, aren’t you actually scared you’ll end up falling for him while bullying him?】

Feng Ning shrugged and typed back: “I have no intention of dating some little young master like that. I’m busy! I’ve got work, I’ve got studying! No time for romantic nonsense like this.”

She put her phone away, flipped open another workbook, and started working through problems with a clear mind.

At the time, Feng Ning had predicted that within a month, Jiang Wen would fall for her.

But she didn’t know that, from that rainy first meeting to tonight, she wasn’t, to him, the beginning and end of some fleeting romance.

— This was the prologue to half a lifetime of his falling.