“I already laid out the ugly truth beforehand, and yet so many people still want to test the bottom line. Don’t think that just because your grades are good, you can slack off, that you can dismiss what your teacher says. Open your eyes and look at this world—there are plenty of people more outstanding than you and working harder than you. If you’re satisfied and slack off just because of momentary results, your future life won’t amount to anything!”

This barrage of criticism was aimed too obviously; the whole classroom was stunned into silence.

“What are you still standing there for, get out!”

Jiang Wen walked through the shocked gazes, utterly unmoved.

“The rest of you, self-study in the classroom for now.” Tie Niangzi (Iron Lady) dropped this line and stepped down from the podium.

The moment Tie Niangzi stepped out of the classroom, the discussion erupted.

“Old Iron really lost her temper this time…”

“That was way too harsh.”

“Wow wow wow, there’s a good show to watch.”

Zhao Binlin had personally witnessed Jiang Wen flicking his test paper backward two seconds before the teacher arrived.

He was truly too shocked, not even knowing what reaction could express his shock. Unfortunately his vocabulary was limited; he choked for a moment and actually blurted out: “Tie Niangzi’s heart is truly made of iron, and Jiang Wen’s head is truly made of iron too.”

Jiang Wen was punished with running laps on the sports field—that was absolutely a scenic sight on campus.

—At the very least, almost no one in the same grade didn’t know Jiang Wen.

Taking into account his family background, looks, and other factors, Jiang Wen was probably the one mentioned most frequently in the gossip about handsome guys during breaks. In middle school he’d been student council president, his grades had topped the rankings year after year, he carried himself in a cold and refined manner, and he never so much as glanced sideways at girls who tried to strike up conversation with him.

And the colder he was, the more mysterious the high school girls found him, like Stockholm syndrome patients—suffering the abuse while unable to pull themselves away.

Actually, no one really had the mood to listen attentively to the lecture; only the class monitor and the English class representative were barely maintaining order.

Amid the whispering, Feng Ning propped her chin up, staring blankly out the window.

Through the glass, she could see a small corner of the distant sports field. Every few minutes, Jiang Wen’s figure would flash past.

The sun was scorching hot; scattered in twos and threes around the field were students having PE class, some pretending to pass by, some pretending to admire the scenery, but really all sneaking glances toward a certain someone.

The boy being punished with running didn’t feel embarrassed at all—quite the opposite, he seemed rather pleased with himself. Because they’d discovered that running laps alongside Jiang Wen also got them watched by girls, a chance to show off—how nice.

Soon there was a post on the forum, and the title of this post was quite the essence of it: [What’s going on, is the prince being punished like a commoner for breaking the law?]

The replies piled up fast below:

Passerby 1: Who’s the prince, what law did he break, someone point me the way?

Passerby 2: Replying to the above, the prince is Jiang Wen, he’s running laps over by the field

Passerby 3: The prince being punished like a commoner, hahahahahaha, that’s rich

Passerby 4: What happened, what’s wrong with Jiang Wen??

Passerby 5: Heard he got punished for not doing his homework

The original poster had attached a blurry photo, only a side profile, clearly a candid shot snuck with a phone judging by the pixelation. Though blurry, it still couldn’t hide the good looks within.

So the enthusiasm for replies only grew more heated:

Passerby A: wuhoooooo~ asking, what grade is he in, which class!! Does he have someone already??

Passerby B: Damn!!!! He’s kind of handsome!!! His skin looks so good!!!!!

Passerby C: So… you all really don’t know Jiang Wen? He’s already famous… if you don’t know him, go check the pinned highlight post in the forum, there’s a roundup of the school’s handsomest guys with him in it. I guarantee you, in person he’s ten thousand times more handsome than in photos~~~~~

P.S.: Not only is he handsome, his grades are explosively good too. But he’s pretty aloof, not just ordinarily cold, but cold like the North Pole—not only cold, but he doesn’t get close to girls either. Let me give an example: he can walk right past someone confessing to him without changing expression, won’t even accept other people’s love letters. Ladies, think carefully before you make a move.

A few boys walked in, looking like eggplants just fished out of water, and all the students’ eyes in the classroom fixed on them.

Jiang Wen walked to his seat, pulled out the chair, and sat down quietly.

“Aiyo, you’re finally back!” Xi Gaoyuan, several rows over, put on a show of urgent concern, shouting over: “Not too tired, not sunburned, are you!”

Meanwhile Zhao Binlin began reciting poetry with deep affection: “I too long for someone like this, to spare me from fright, spare me from bitterness, spare me from a life of wandering displacement, spare me from having nowhere to belong. I too long for someone like this, who, when I haven’t done my homework, would resolutely stand in front of me, sparing me from—”

“Looking to get hit?”

After being shot a cold, indifferent glare from Jiang Wen, Zhao Binlin swallowed the rest of his sentence right back down.

He had just finished intense exercise; his back was soaked, his school uniform sticking to his body, sweat outlining most of his physique.

“Hey.” Feng Ning patted him.

Jiang Wen turned his face to the side, streaks of sweat trickling down. His breathing hadn’t calmed yet; he was panting faintly.

“Done copying, thanks study god, thank you thank you thank you.”

Jiang Wen took the test paper back and glanced at it. In the name blank, someone had filled in a name, the strokes sharp and forceful, the final stroke of the character “Wen” (问) dragged down long with a hook at the end.

He looked at it for about a minute before putting the paper away in his drawer.

Zhao Binlin was scrolling the forum on his phone, feasting on Jiang Wen’s gossip. As a semi-insider, he suddenly started humming a tune bashfully: “A lifetime of loving, too hard to turn back from, bitterness hidden deep in the heart~”

Jiang Wen’s hand, in the middle of reaching for his book, paused. He stared at him for a few seconds, then looked away.

Zhao Binlin leaned his back against the wall, closed his eyes, and reveled tirelessly: “Do you know the feeling of heartache, it’s always me who bears it~”

Seeing him acting like this, the boy in front turned his head, half-smiling: “What, did Young Master Zhao get dumped?”

“Nonono, the one heartbroken in love isn’t me.” Zhao Binlin put on a profound, unfathomable expression. “Listen to Jacky Cheung too young, and understand him only once heartbroken.”

The morning classes weren’t even over yet, and during break, quite a few young girls had already found out where Jiang Wen sat. Under the pretense of passing by on their way to the bathroom, they came to gather at the corridor of Class Nine, and there were even people who didn’t know him shouting his name. There was whispering going on about this in the classroom too.

Jiang Wen didn’t know what had happened, utterly bewildered.

But he soon learned the source of it—his old half-naked photo had been dug up by someone.

Because of that forum post, curious people had directly searched Jiang Wen’s full name, and following the thread had found his old photos.

This half-naked photo had been transferred from someone’s WeChat Moments by one of Xi Gaoyuan’s friends, contributed to the pinned highlight post ranking the school’s handsomest guys next door.

It had been summer at the time, no girls present. Their group had just finished playing basketball, all hot enough to strip off their shirts.

Mixed in among the other boys, even if Jiang Wen wasn’t standing in the very center, he was still the most eye-catching one.

It was high noon, exactly when the light was strongest. He’d tilted his neck back to drink water, wearing only a pair of loose athletic pants. Wet hair, the lines of his lower abdomen and waist laid completely bare, all exposed under the camera, youthful yet sexy.

Quite a few girls, enduring their embarrassment, saved this half-naked photo to their phones.

Zhao Binlin held his phone nearby, teasing him: “It’s over, it’s over, how did my top-billed racy photo get dug up again, now my clean, innocent body has been seen by everyone.”

Jiang Wen sat still without moving, just burying his head in a book, ignoring it.

“What thing, what thing?” Feng Ning was an unabashed lecher, and her gossip appetite was voracious. “What racy photo! I want to see too!”

“Jiang Wen’s racy photo, you want to see?”

Feng Ning let out a “wah,” waving her hand, “Really? I want to see, let me appreciate it.”

Zhao Binlin leaned his head over, asking in a mock-serious tone: “So should I show her then?”

Jiang Wen was silent.

“Tch, if you don’t want to, I just won’t show her.”

“Whatever.” His tone gave nothing away, good or bad.

Zhao Binlin made a couple of “oh oh” sounds, still deliberately teasing him: “Give me a clear answer, does whatever mean…?”

Jiang Wen fell silent again, and after a moment said, “Don’t show her.”

Zhao Binlin sensed that stubborn tsundere streak in him where his words said one thing and his heart meant another, clicked his tongue, and handed the phone over to Feng Ning.

Monday mornings were always especially hard to get through; by the time lunch came and school let out, Zhao Binlin jumped up from his seat, cheering as if liberated: “Come on, let’s eat.”

Amid the noise and bustle, Jiang Wen said, “You go ahead.”

“Why, you’re not eating?”

“Mn.”

His face had faded to an abnormal paleness. He propped his forehead with his hand, rubbed it, and closed his eyes.

Outside came the broadcast music for the end of school, people walking back and forth, bumping into desks and chairs, conversations and laughter, loud then soft. He maintained this posture for a good long while, waiting until the buzzing noise around him gradually faded away.

—Knock knock.

Someone rapped twice on the desk.

Jiang Wen opened his eyes, his vision still a bit scattered, and Feng Ning’s face suddenly loomed large before him.

The two of them were too close together; he couldn’t help but tilt back a bit of distance.

Their gazes met, and what flashed through Jiang Wen’s mind in that instant was the dream from that night. She had been this close in the dream too, close enough that he’d nearly lost his mind and his soul in his sleep.

Feng Ning tilted her head slightly, calmly sizing up his complexion, and after a good while straightened up. “Get up.”

Jiang Wen hadn’t quite caught up, tilting his head back to look at her.

“You’ve got heatstroke, I’ll go with you to the infirmary.”

At this hour, the infirmary only had one female doctor on duty. She set aside the book she’d been halfway through reading. “What’s wrong with you two?”

Feng Ning roughly explained the situation. The female doctor made an “oh” sound. “Dizzy? Feel like throwing up right now? How long have you been feeling unwell?”

Jiang Wen answered each question one by one.

The doctor held out her hand. “Give me your student ID, I’ll hook you up to an IV.”

After hooking up the IV, the doctor had him lie down on the narrow hospital bed.

Feng Ning stood off to the side, helping adjust the drip speed. “That test paper today, thanks for that, huh—didn’t realize you were so loyal to your friends.”

The way she said it sounded like a formulaic thank-you, casually putting distance between herself and him.

There’s a saying that goes like this.

When the result is right there in front of you, does it matter what the truth actually is? It doesn’t matter—everyone will only choose the answer they want.

So Feng Ning didn’t ask about his motive; instead, she chose her own way to interpret his behavior, papering over the cracks to keep the peace.

Jiang Wen felt her distancing herself, lowered his eyes, and started to feel irritated with himself.

He didn’t know if he was deceiving himself or hypnotizing himself: “If you’d drunk yourself into the hospital, I would have done the same for anyone else too.”

After a pause, he said, “Go eat. I’ll be fine alone.”

Feng Ning agreed readily, “Alright, I’m off then. If you’re feeling unwell, go find a teacher to ask for leave, go back to the dorm this afternoon and get some sleep. Remember to call someone when the IV’s done.”

Jiang Wen made an “mn” sound and simply turned his head to the side.

Her footsteps receded, the door was gently closed, a very soft, very soft sound.

That hanging white curtain was right in front of his eyes, sunlight dancing on it, shadow grids cut by the window frame, swaying in the breeze.

Jiang Wen stared at it for a long while, still wearing that same expression.

The disturbing wind gradually died down; after a good while, the white curtain stopped swaying. He forcefully yanked out the IV needle.

The veins on the back of his hand bulged, blood beads kept welling up without stopping, and for an instant, his heart felt considerably better.

He sat up, about to get off the bed, and when he turned his head to the side, Jiang Wen froze.

Feng Ning was leaning against the wall nearby, as if nothing had happened at all, looking at him with a half-smile. “Little Classmate Jiang, what are you throwing a tantrum for?”