"I forgive you."
A rustle of leaves filled the air as Xia Chuan exhaled slowly.
Those words absolved Northsea Yuxue of everything she’d done to him. Though truthfully, she’d never crossed any real line—just enough to make his younger self burn with anger.
"Thank you."
Relief washed over Northsea Yuxue the moment she heard what she’d longed for. Guilt had gnawed at her for months. She hadn’t masterminded the schemes, but she’d stood silently beside those who did. Now, forgiven by the one who mattered, the weight in her chest finally lifted.
"Well, if that’s all, I’ll take my leave."
With nothing left to settle, Xia Chuan turned to go. Second period was about to start. As a "reformed delinquent" with straight-A discipline, skipping class wasn’t an option.
He’d barely taken three steps when he paused. Northsea Yuxue hadn’t moved.
Turning back, he found her lips parted as if holding unspoken words.
"Northsea? What’s wrong?" he asked gently.
Her apology had been partly about forgiveness—but mostly about a selfish wish she couldn’t voice. Until now.
"Xia Chuan…" Her usually expressionless face flushed faintly. "Can I… be your friend?"
The question drained every ounce of her strength.
Xia Chuan froze.
*This* was what she’d agonized over?
He didn’t hate her anymore. But "friend"? They’d barely graduated from enemies to strangers. He’d never imagined befriending this icy heiress.
Yet beneath her blush, hope flickered in her eyes—subtle, but undeniable.
A soft laugh escaped him. *How ridiculous. If a girl like her can humble herself… why can’t I let go?*
"If you don’t mind someone like me," he said lightly, "I’d be honored."
---
Xia Chuan slid into his seat just as the bell rang.
No panic over near-tardiness—his mind still replayed Northsea Yuxue’s confession. *So she’s a tsundere after all?* He almost smiled, recalling her past antics.
The classroom door opened. Shoving the thought aside, he focused as Teacher Liu strode in.
Math class. Liu Yuantao’s domain.
The ex-soldier stood rigid at the podium, scanning the room. His eyes brightened slightly when they landed on Xia Chuan—likely pleased to see him back after Mo Yao’s three-day absence excuse. A frown briefly creased his brow at Xia Chuan’s bruises, but he said nothing.
"Page seventy-eight," he barked. No dwelling on distractions.
---
They said a soldier who didn’t dream of being a mathematician wasn’t a true teacher.
Liu Yuantao’s lectures defied his rough exterior. Dry military humor punctuated complex theorems, holding the class spellbound—even Xia Chuan, still adjusting to the sight of this gruff man teaching quadratic equations.
The bell cut through the focused silence. Students sighed, reluctant to leave. No one dared ask for "just five more minutes." Liu dismissed them promptly.
"Xia Chuan. My office. Now."
A glance back held unspoken concern. As homeroom teacher, he needed answers about those injuries.
Xia Chuan gathered his books calmly. He’d expected this.
"Master, why’s the teacher summoning you? Some dirty py trans—"
Bai Yifan’s teasing died in a muffled squeak as Xia Chuan’s hands stretched his cheeks into a grotesque pout.
"Just business. What twisted thoughts crawl in that head of yours?" Xia Chuan growled.
"Mmmph! Sowwy!" Bai Yifan garbled through squished lips.
Xia Chuan released him, suppressing a smirk. *Surprisingly satisfying grip.* Ignoring Bai Yifan’s wounded pouting, he headed out.
---
Liu Yuantao’s desk stood out in the teacher’s lounge—like a tank parked among scooters. The ex-soldier hunched over grading papers, utterly absorbed. Even Xia Chuan’s approach went unnoticed.
"Teacher Liu?" Xia Chuan prompted.
Liu startled, swiveling his chair with military sharpness. "Ah. Perfect timing. I need to ask—"
"About my face?" Xia Chuan finished mildly.
"Exactly. Connected to yesterday’s absence?"
*Predictable.* Xia Chuan launched into his prepared story:
"I was walking through an alley when I saw a little girl—"
Three minutes later…
"—I thought one hand could handle four hundred thugs. My mistake. I had to use… a second finger." Xia Chuan sighed dramatically, hands clasped behind his back.
Liu Yuantao’s palm cracked against Xia Chuan’s skull. "You think I’m an idiot?! Even idiots wouldn’t swallow this!"
"But it’s true—"
"Plain words. Now."
"Fine. I saw thugs harassing a girl. Tried to help. Got beaten. Someone else showed up before things got worse." Xia Chuan spat the truth out in one breath, eyeing Liu’s clenched fists. *One wrong word and I’ll taste army-style fist-therapy.*
"Hmph. Plausible." Liu rubbed his temples. "So you skipped class over this?"
"Yeah." Xia Chuan exhaled inwardly. The ridiculous lie had served its purpose—making the truth believable. A proud high school boy wouldn’t admit defeat so easily… unless he’d first raged about it.
"Brave," Liu said, pride warming his stern face.
"Guess so," Xia Chuan mumbled.
"But bravery without sense is stupidity." Liu’s expression hardened. "I never want to see you hurt like this again. Understood?"
Warmth spread through Xia Chuan’s chest. This man cared for every student like his own.
"Thank you, Teacher."
"Dismissed." Liu waved him off.
Xia Chuan reached the door before doubling back.
"The 10,000-meter race sign-up sheet? You said—"
"Blame your desk mate. She volunteered you."
"*What?*"
*Of course. That little traitor.* Xia Chuan’s knuckles whitened. He forced a slow breath.
"Did you actually register me?"
"No. Needed your consent." Liu pulled a form from a stack. "Still running?"
"Yes." No hesitation.
Liu chuckled, handing over the sheet. "Bold kid. Ten thousand meters?"
Xia Chuan took it, tracing the paper’s edge. His whisper barely stirred the air:
"Because I want to do something… even someone like me can accomplish."
