So this is Lanying High School?
After a long ride on bus route 999, I finally spotted the massive school at the city’s edge. It sat right between downtown and the suburbs. The air was fresh, the roads wide, and few residents lived nearby. This gave the area a quiet, relaxed feel, stripped of urban bustle.
It was hard to imagine such a peaceful oasis in this heavily industrialized city. Lanying High stood alone under the gray sky, like a giant countryside villa.
Wow. Just glancing at it from outside, this school looked at least five or six times bigger than my public City No.1 High. Inside must be even more vast.
I walked around it once but couldn’t find the entrance. Luckily, a patrolling guard spotted me. After showing my student ID and explaining, he led me in.
Turns out the main gate hid behind thick plants in the southeast corner. Without guidance, outsiders would never notice it.
I wonder if anyone’s in the legendary student council office. They should be in class, right? Do I have to hunt them down there? How embarrassing.
“Excuse me, are you the visitor from City No.1 High?”
Just as I thought that, a soft, gentle voice called out ahead. I looked up to see a girl stepping out of the guardhouse.
A stunningly beautiful girl.
She had long, wavy golden hair. Her face was flawless, lightly made-up. Tall and elegant in short heels, she matched my height—impressive for a guy like me. Her figure was breathtaking, accentuated by the snug, pale gold-trimmed uniform that hugged her curves perfectly.
I couldn’t help swallowing hard.
“Nice to meet you. I’m Lanying’s student council president.” Her voice was calm and polite, like a true noble lady. A shame she didn’t give her name. I had to ask:
“Senior, I’m Luo Xiaoyao from City No.1 High, here to deliver an invitation. So lucky to meet you right at the gate! May I ask your name?”
She looked like a pretty senior, probably older. Student council presidents were usually relaxed second-years, but better to play it safe. Calling her “senior” was humble; “junior” might seem flirty. I was on her turf—no need to risk trouble.
“You already called me ‘senior,’” the golden-haired girl winked. “That’s fine. I’ve been waiting here since your text said you’d come this afternoon.”
…Oh.
Her tone stayed polite, but I sensed rejection. A little deflated.
Right, of course. Greeting me was just basic manners. Why would a noble, top student from a fancy school bother with me?
I relaxed slightly. “Thanks for waiting, Senior. Here’s the invitation. Please come for the event tomorrow night.”
My hint was clear: since you met me here, let’s wrap this up at the gate. No need to go inside. Honestly, places like this made me nervous.
Plus, her warm-but-distant attitude… Coming to the gate felt like someone grabbing takeout at the door: *Don’t come in.*
I’m that person too—always taking delivery outside. So I handed the invitation politely and turned to leave.
“Wait, Luo junior.” She called out politely as I moved away. “You came all this way. Why not tour our school?”
Of course, I knew it was just courtesy. Like when guests leave, everyone says “Stay longer!” while secretly hoping they’ll go.
I’m not clueless. I waved and walked off.
Lanying High wasn’t my world. Today was just duty. No mixed feelings—I felt light on the bus back. At least I skipped half a day of class.
Oh right, the invitation. I’ll write another one for Qingli later. Perfect~
Unbeknownst to me, more was unfolding elsewhere.
At Lanying Academy, the golden-haired girl stared blankly at the invitation in her hands, flustered.
The visitor from City No.1 High had long gone, but she stood frozen. Disbelief and doubt filled her.
Why? Why did they break the script and just leave?
She turned stiffly toward the student council office, her face bitter.
The office was student-run, no teachers involved. Yet this little house nestled among cherry blossoms didn’t belong to her, the president.
In truth, both the room and she herself belonged to someone else.
The golden-haired senior hesitated at the door. She inserted her key, twisted it—but it wouldn’t open. Only one reason: the person inside refused her entry.
“You’re back?”
A flat, icy voice came from within. Hearing it, she trembled uncontrollably.
“Y-yes. I’m back.”
“But you failed. I can tell. She’s unhappy.”
The voice remained detached, as if discussing a stranger. They spoke Chinese, so the senior didn’t catch the “she” instead of “he.” Fear consumed her.
“I-I’m sorry.”
“You know what to do.”
Those were the last words—toneless, yet she felt relief. She sighed deeply, then smoothly pulled a strawberry-red gag from her top pocket.
Without hesitation, she put it on, bound her hands behind her back, and knelt before the office door.
