"...Xu Peng, listen up. When you help Senior Bailin, just do your job properly. No funny business. And if you bring your old bad habits to her, putting her in a tough spot, I’ll tear you apart when I get home."
Brother and sister each devoured two baskets of steamed dumplings at lightning speed, wolfing them down in no time.
Most high schoolers are growing fast and need hearty meals. The breakfast eaten at six or seven AM barely lasted until noon, leaving them starving and seeing stars.
After happily finishing her dumplings at the table, Xiaoye couldn’t help reminding her fierce-looking younger brother what to do—and what not to do. With his usual rebellious streak, she just couldn’t shake her worries.
"You’re so annoying," Xu Peng grumbled. "You’ve been nagging since we started. If you’re that worried, just come with me. Saves the whining."
As head of the Disciplinary Department, Xiaoye seemed harmless but radiated an intimidating aura when scolding underachievers. It was hard to tell if it was psychological or real pressure.
That’s why Xu Peng hated his sister. She lacked Senior Bailin’s gentle, understanding nature—let alone actual empathy. His delinquent face drew extra prejudice, a tiny snapshot of being misunderstood.
"I wouldn’t waste my breath if you weren’t my brother. You don’t know, the Student Council lately—"
"—Lately what?"
"Ugh, never mind. Just busy. Senior Bailin needs time to plan with us deputies and department heads."
Xiaoye clearly hid some heavy worries. As Disciplinary head, she dealt with the school board often—just as much as Senior Bailin did.
From easygoing to rigid, now outright difficult. Pressure from the board grew heavier daily, leaving Xiaoye feeling powerless. Without Senior Bailin bearing the brunt upfront, the Student Council might’ve collapsed already.
"Cut it out. You smart types love beating around the bush."
Xu Peng ignored brain-taxing stuff. His logic was simple: be good to those good to him. Senior Bailin treated him like family, no weird looks. So he saw her as a real sister—even fighting street thugs for her once.
Thinking back, Xu Peng still believed he’d done right. Even called foolish by his parents, he stood firm. Thank heavens for his strong, powerful body.
"Just do your best over there," Xiaoye said after sipping scallion soup. She gazed at her brother’s delinquent face, suddenly thoughtful. Thanks to Senior Bailin, this rascal had finally gotten serious.
"Mm, I’m off. Tell Mom and Dad I’m working, or they’ll think I’m out partying again."
"Don’t worry. They’ll agree. They’re thrilled you’re on the right path."
After all, Xu Peng’s family knew about his street fight with thugs—the terrible incident that nearly got him expelled. Qianning High’s expulsion notice landed on Senior Bailin’s desk, only to be shredded on the spot.
That day, Xiaoye became Senior Bailin’s ardent admirer. In ancient times, she might’ve followed her for life.
Never underestimate Xiaoye’s devotion. Even when Senior Bailin slipped and called her "Xiaoye," she happily kept the nickname—even as her QQ ID.
Finally free from his sister’s nagging, Xu Peng took a detour back to Qianning High. The once-bustling school gate had quieted down. A few students still passed sporadically.
Qianning High had lax exit rules, but entry required student IDs—no exceptions.
Security guards knew Xu Peng well. He often helped the Student Council during lunch breaks. Unless under strict orders, they waved familiar faces through.
Senior Bailin, Student Council president, didn’t even need a card—just her face.
Walking under the Indian rosewood trees—nicknamed the "Heartbreak Tree" by students—rustling leaves filled the path. Unknown insects chirped softly in the breeze.
Qianning High’s greenery was stunning. Flowers and trees transformed the cramped campus into a serene park.
On sunny days, boarding students often reviewed lessons on grassy patches. Sometimes, self-study teachers even let classes move to the woods.
Classrooms, no matter how nice, grew boring after a while. A change of scenery worked wonders.
The Student Council building stood far from freshman and sophomore classrooms, separated by the senior block. From the main gate, it meant a detour.
But Xu Peng knew the route by heart. After a year of running errands, he could find it blindfolded.
The empty campus felt eerily quiet. Only rustling leaves and insect chirps broke the silence.
Then, faint ancient-style music drifted from the Student Council building.
Xu Peng looked up, surprised. Why was the Arts and Sports Department still active now?
Like a sorrowful woman’s lament from above, the plaintive melody hollowed his gaze. Uncontrollably, he yearned to find its source.
