Lin Zhexia was momentarily dumbfounded.

The pull tab ring still hung lonely on her finger.

Mainly because Chi Yao’s move had caught her completely off guard, like a sudden attack.

Just a moment ago, he had appeared completely disinterested in her.

By the time she reacted, she had already missed the best opportunity to counter.

She could only reply: “You’re so smart. I’ve never practiced it before, so it’s normal that I can’t open it.”

Lin Zhexia continued slowly: “Besides, who knows, maybe you secretly practiced for a long time just to show off.”

“…”

As they spoke.

Chi Yao had already withdrawn his hand, still resting it on his knee, continuing to watch the movie, taking back the patronizing glance he had cast at her.

He only dropped one sentence: “Do I look that free?”

The second half of the movie featured standard plot developments—the protagonists found the mastermind villain, then fought to the death in a critical moment, accompanied by “rat-tat-tat” sound effects. Everyone watched, unable to tear their eyes away.

Lin Zhexia took a sip of the lemon soda in her hand and continued watching, too.

After the movie, He Yang and the others suggested playing board games.

For these students on summer break, time was the one thing they had plenty of.

He Yang brought his own card game, pulling out a stack of black cards from his pocket: “I’ll deal for everyone. Anyone who wants to play, gather around, and I’ll explain the rules.”

“Brother Yao,” He Yang said as he reached their side, offering the remaining stack of cards, “draw one?”

Chi Yao glanced at the cards in his hand but didn’t take them: “I’m a bit tired. I’ll take a nap.”

He Yang turned to Lin Zhexia: “Alright, Brother Xia, you draw.”

Lin Zhexia, as if copying and pasting, used Chi Yao’s template: “You guys play. I’ll do my homework.”

“…”

He Yang took back the cards, accustomed to this: “You two always make exceptions for yourselves.”

Although everyone in their “Nanxiang Small Squad” had grown up together, relationships varied in closeness. Everyone in the group tacitly acknowledged one fact: Lin Zhexia and Chi Yao, these two who verbally clashed, were the closest pair among all of them.

When Chi Yao said he was a bit tired, he took a nap.

Lin Zhexia guessed that since he had rushed back last night, he must have been exhausted from the journey.

However, he didn’t go to his room to sleep, probably because he didn’t plan to sleep too long, and just napped right next to Lin Zhexia.

The bean bag chair was already on the carpet, making it possible to use it as a pillow while sleeping on the carpet, but a certain someone’s legs were so long that even sleeping on the carpet seemed cramped.

Lin Zhexia looked down at her legs, comparing the length, then silently opened the homework she hadn’t finished earlier.

She was halfway through her homework when Chi Yao woke up.

Lin Zhexia was immersed in the ocean of learning, completely unaware.

Until she heard a sentence:

“This question is wrong.”

Half a minute later, another sentence:

“This one is also incorrect.”

“…”

“The fact that you could barely make it into No. 2 High School,” Chi Yao finally commented, “is quite an achievement.”

Lin Zhexia’s pen tip paused on the paper, and she retorted: “Thank you for your affirmation. Luck is indeed part of ability.”

In the end, things developed into He Yang and the others playing board games to the side, a group of people chattering noisily, while Chi Yao explained problems to her amidst all the commotion.

He had just woken up.

One hand propped on the carpet as he sat up close to her, the other hand with a pen between his fingers, quickly writing solution steps in the blank spaces of her book pages.

“This problem is a bit difficult,” Lin Zhexia defended herself, “it’s comprehensive, with many potential points to lose marks.”

Chi Yao’s handwriting was just like him.

The strokes were free and unrestrained, the characters looking good, but written too quickly, showing slight disorder.

“Difficult?” He wrote down the last character with his pen curved, “I’m too lazy to even solve this one.”

“…”

Stay calm.

Stay a bit calmer.

Look beyond the phenomenon to see the essence.

After all, he was currently explaining problems to her.

And it wasn’t the first time either.

Having known each other for so many years, this had always been his style of teaching.

Those who accomplish great things don’t fuss over minor details.

So, it’s essential to stay calm.

Lin Zhexia counseled herself internally, quickly adjusting her emotions: “You’re going to such trouble, actually willing to move your noble fingers to leave your priceless handwriting on my homework. I’m extremely, extremely touched.”

Chi Yao tossed down the pen, completely ignoring her approach.

Lin Zhexia followed the steps he provided to correct her previous answers.

Chi Yao often explained problems to her.

So often that Lin Zhexia took it for granted.

As she erased and corrected her original answers, she chatted with Chi Yao about his recent visit to a relative in the neighboring city: “By the way, which relative did you visit these past few days?”

“In the neighboring city.”

Chi Yao said, “A relative’s child was having their first birthday celebration.”

While continuing to make corrections, Lin Zhexia said, “Did they have the tradition where the baby picks objects? When I was little, I picked…”

Before she could finish her sentence.

Chi Yao completed it for her: “You grabbed the tablecloth.”

“Did I mention that before?” Lin Zhexia couldn’t remember, after all, with so many conversations between her and Chi Yao every day, it was hard to recall what had or hadn’t been said, “You have such a good memory.”

Chi Yao spoke with a hint of mockery: “Oh, this has nothing to do with memory. Anyone would remember if a person repeated the stupid things they’ve done more than three times.”

“…”

Lin Zhexia appropriately changed the subject: “What did you pick when you were little? You probably didn’t pick anything, right?”

Indeed, Chi Yao hadn’t picked anything.

“It wasn’t held,” he said.

“Wasn’t held?”

“The first birthday celebration,” Chi Yao said indifferently, “that year, the family business was too busy.”

Lin Zhexia recalled Chi Yao’s mother’s somewhat cold, imposing face. She had heard from Lin He a long time ago that Chi Yao’s mother had returned to work soon after giving birth. For such a strong career woman, not holding a first birthday celebration wasn’t surprising at all.

After a moment, Lin Zhexia said, “So you didn’t pick anything.”

“…?”

She continued, enunciating each word: “No wonder now, you’re so, not a thing.”

After Chi Yao returned, Lin Zhexia’s homework found a home.

Starting from the second day after Chi Yao came back.

Lin Zhexia frequently brought her homework to Chi Yao’s place.

“Mom,” Lin Zhexia said hurriedly as she rushed out one day, “I’m going to Chi Yao’s house. I might not come back for lunch, don’t wait for me.”

Sometimes Lin He would voice some concerns: “You’re a young lady now, don’t keep running to someone else’s house all the time like you did when you were little.”

Lin Zhexia: “It’s fine. In Chi Yao’s eyes, I don’t count as female. If I can barely qualify as a primate of the human species, that’s already pretty good.”

But besides Lin He, there was another person who had some objections.

When Lin Zhexia knocked on Chi Yao’s door with her homework, Chi Yao saw her and wanted to close the door.

Lin Zhexia, holding her homework, freed one hand to press against the door, trying to squeeze through the gap: “I’ve come to do my homework.”

Chi Yao spoke to her in a “you’re sick” tone: “Do you have a disease where you can’t do homework if you’re more than half a step away from my house?”

Lin Zhexia said, “The questions are a bit difficult…”

Chi Yao: “Changing locations probably won’t help; you might need to change your brain.”

Lin Zhexia continued to push: “Just consider it your good deed for the day.”

The door, which had been in a constant push-pull, suddenly stopped moving after she finished this sentence.

Chi Yao’s hand remained on the doorknob, no longer exerting force.

So the half-open door seemed like it was stuck.

Through that gap, she could just see half of Chi Yao’s face.

Lin Zhexia saw his bangs hanging in front of his eyes, his lean jaw, and the sudden smile that appeared.

His entire being gave off too much of a distant feeling; even when smiling, that cold, arrogant aura still lingered.

“Sorry.”

“I never do good deeds,” Chi Yao said with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes, “because I am not a thing.”

Lin Zhexia: “…”

Lin Zhexia suspected he was simply taking the opportunity for revenge.

That day she had just!

Casually! Said a single sentence!

Was it necessary?

A few seconds later.

She watched helplessly as Chi Yao’s door closed in front of her.

Lin Zhexia squatted outside Chi Yao’s door with her homework, refusing to leave.

While squatting, she took out her phone to send Chi Yao messages—

Please let me in orz—

The wind outside is so strong—

I’m so cold

Half a minute later.

Chi Yao replied, reminding her:—

You’re in the hallway—

I mean my heart, it’s drafty—

…

Inside the door.

Chi Yao leaned his back against the door, separated from her by just a door. Seeing this message, he muttered “idiot” under his breath.

Then his fingers paused on the screen, typing a few words: Open the door yourself and come in.

Before he could press send.

He heard new sounds from outside the door.

It was the sound of the neighboring door opening.

An elderly couple lived across the hallway. The old man was probably going out to throw away trash. Having lived here for many years, everyone was quite familiar with each other. Seeing Lin Zhexia, the old man greeted her: “Little Lin, here to see Chi Yao again? Why are you squatting at the door?”

“Grandpa Wang.”

Lin Zhexia’s voice grew considerably louder, deliberately speaking for the person inside to hear: “I’m here to ask about homework questions. This summer vacation, I don’t dare relax for a moment, I insist on doing practice problems every day, and I only have studying on my mind. The reason I’m squatting at the door is because—Chi Yao is too stingy, he’s worried I’ll become smarter than him, surpass him in grades, so he refuses to teach me, keeping me out—” outside.

But the words “outside” never made it out of her mouth.

With a “click.”

The door opened.

Lin Zhexia felt a force behind her, that force grabbing the back of her collar and pulling her inside.

Chi Yao pulled her while saying, “Bring your homework and get in here.”

The cicadas’ songs that August continued enthusiastically from the beginning to the end of the month.

Lin Zhexia’s memories of that summer were of the cool air conditioning in Chi Yao’s home, the fizzing lemon soda on the table, and the stack of homework that gradually thinned as she worked through it.

When she was doing homework, Chi Yao would play games beside her, being annoyingly smug.

He played games with his usual casual attitude, fingers tapping indifferently on the screen. Sometimes when Lin Zhexia glanced his way, she would often catch a prominent “PENTAKILL” notification.

Chi Yao’s desk was very spacious.

More often, he would nap at the other end of the desk.

One hand hanging over the edge of the desk, the other resting on the back of his neck, looking exactly like a student sitting in the back row of a classroom, not paying attention.

More than half of the vacation passed this way, and soon it was nearly time for school to start.

At the dinner table that day.

Lin He brought up the start of school: “School is about to start, so collect your thoughts, adjust your state of mind. High school is a very important stage, understand?”

Lin Zhexia listened, nodding while poking at the rice in her bowl.

“Oh, right, your Uncle Wei bought you some new notebooks too.”

Lin Zhexia quickly said, “Thank you, Uncle Wei.”

Lin He added: “And a new schoolbag. Check if you like it after dinner. New school year, new outlook.”

After dinner, Lin Zhexia sat on the sofa, unwrapping the gifts.

Wei Ping also came to sit nearby.

When Lin He wasn’t around, there was always a bit of awkwardness between her and Wei Ping.

Lin Zhexia broke the silence: “Thank you, Uncle. The schoolbag is very nice, I like it a lot. Would you… Like some water? I can get you some.”

Wei Ping wore glasses, looking honest and refined: “Ah, no need, thank you. Well, I’m glad you like it.”

Wei Ping then said, “Would you like some fruit? I can cut an orange for you.”

Lin Zhexia had just finished eating and declined: “I’m fine too, thank you, Uncle. No need to trouble yourself.”

After some polite exchanges, the conversation quickly ended.

Lin Zhexia lowered her head and started playing with her phone. She habitually opened her chat with Chi Yao.

She sent a few bored messages:—

What are you doing?

School’s starting soon—

We’re at the same school this time! We can! Go to school together!—

Do you think we’ll be in the same class?

Chi Yao didn’t reply.

She waited for a while, then exited the chat.

Beside her, Wei Ping lightly cleared his throat, finally finding a topic: “School’s starting soon. Are you nervous about going to a new school?”

Lin Zhexia thought for a moment, then answered: “It’s fine, I’m not very nervous.”

She truly wasn’t very nervous.

If there was anything to be nervous about, it wasn’t going to a new school, but the fact that her grades were indeed a bit embarrassing.

Although she had gotten into No. 2 High School, it was still an exceptional performance that barely crossed the admission line.

Lin Zhexia had always been a person with good self-awareness.

Although emotionally she didn’t want to do the extra assignments Lin He had arranged, rationally, she knew very well that she did need this homework.

She knew her grades weren’t good, and that she should work harder.

So she completed these twenty pages of homework every day, ensuring both quantity and quality.

And during this time, because of Chi Yao, although his teaching style wasn’t very friendly, often accompanied by sarcasm and personal attacks, she had indeed, because of him, mastered many of the knowledge points for the first year of high school in advance.

These days, under Chi Yao’s “tutoring.”

She gradually found that the slight nervousness brought by the start of school had completely disappeared.

After she finished speaking, her phone screen lit up.

[You have received two new messages]

Chi Dog: Based on our scores

Chi Dog: Not very likely

After a while, the screen lit up again—

Also—

Being able to attend the same school as me is already your honor—

Don’t ask for too much

“…”

Looking at these messages, Lin Zhexia couldn’t help but reflect on whether she had eaten too much dinner.

Otherwise, why would she, with nothing to do after eating, send messages to this person?