Saying he’d come to help Senior Bailin with paperwork, Xu Peng could only feel the weight of the world pressing down as he stared at the perfectly squared stacks of documents before him—already flawlessly processed.

In the mere half-hour he’d dozed off, Senior Bailin had transformed into a human typewriter, single-handedly clearing the entire day’s workload…

Xu Peng swallowed hard. Watching Senior Bailin scroll leisurely through her phone, then glancing at the thick pile of files, he couldn’t help doubting his own competence.

No matter the time or place, Senior Bailin’s efficiency remained… unnervingly extraordinary.

Again and again, she shattered the fragile morale of the Student Council’s underlings. Her limits? Utterly invisible.

*When was the last time?*

Xu Peng strained to recall. Ah—when the Arts and Sports Department’s deputy collapsed from illness, flooding them with paperwork. Just as the department head buckled under pressure, Senior Bailin took over nearly all their tasks. She finished cleanly under everyone’s stunned gaze.

The cost? For days afterward, her face looked slightly haggard, her usual pace noticeably slower.

But this time—crushing a full day’s paperwork in half an hour…

Senior Bailin showed no fatigue. If anything, she seemed almost… eager for more. After murdering his already scarce brain cells trying to understand her, Xu Peng gave up. *Why overthink it?* Her happiness and ease were exactly what the Student Council wished for.

Still—his tasks were done. Just sitting here… felt pointless.

Without work, he’d lost his common ground with Senior Bailin. Should he stay? Or force small talk?

Deep down, Xu Peng truly wanted to grow closer to her. He just… never found the right words.

He’d followed Senior Bailin for over a year—among the longest-serving in the Student Council. Yet now, he couldn’t think of a single thing to break the silence.

His aura dimmed. *What a failure. After all this time, I still don’t even know where she lives or what she likes.*

“Xu Peng, do you have classes this afternoon?”

“Mm. One I can’t skip. It’s our homeroom teacher’s open class—mandatory attendance. Even the Student Council can’t get out of it.”

For high-achievers or slackers like Xu Peng, “skippable” classes might as well not exist. Though for Bai Ling? All 24 hours belonged to her if she wished.

“I see. Then tell Xiao Ye the Discipline Department needs extra patrols these first weeks of term. Too many new faces. She should coordinate with Shao Ze to balance their schedules.”

“I’ll pass it on.”

“Thanks.”

Simple enough—Xu Peng shared classes with his sister anyway. Just a message.

But something about Senior Bailin’s instructions felt… off.

“Bai Ling, are you going out this afternoon?”

If she weren’t leaving campus, she wouldn’t delegate. Her nature preferred handling things personally—unless she was off-site.

This anomaly left only one logical explanation.

“Yes. A few matters require my attention off-campus.”

Bai Ling nodded, her gentle gaze sharpening slightly. She’d rather avoid *those* people. But their material support demanded she offer both sides a graceful exit.

“What kind of matters?”

“…Nothing important.”

Her calm glance made Xu Peng flinch. *How dare I pry into her private affairs?* Only her kindness spared him harsh words.

Around Bai Ling, Xu Peng always felt a quiet shame. Her slightest displeasure made him shrink—a weakness he never showed even to his own sister, the Discipline Department head.

Perhaps it was her unwavering gentleness that made her feel so… untouchable.

Senior Bailin was effortlessly approachable. Even the most abrasive students softened around her. Yet that very warmth became a barrier. Cross her invisible line of kindness, and she’d retreat behind uniform politeness. Was this warmth a mask? Xu Peng couldn’t tell.

“By the way—the Secretariat will hold recruitment this year. I’ll oversee selections personally. If you’re interested, Xu Peng, you should try out.”

“Do they pick from top members of the three departments? Or open applications?”

“Top performers are considered. But this year, a promising senior caught my eye—a true all-rounder. I plan to recruit him.”

Unlike the Student Council’s three main departments, the Secretariat had barely a handful of members.

Handpicked by Senior Bailin herself, its members assisted department heads directly or took notes for the School Board. Most council members dreamed of joining—blocked only by her silence on recruitment.

“You two might even work together someday.”

Thinking of Liming joining the Secretariat, a faint smile played on Bai Ling’s lips. Her eyes curved like crescent moons.

*Work together?*

Where Bai Ling felt joy, Xu Peng felt instinctive aversion. This unseen underclassman had already trespassed on his private territory.

After following her so long, Xu Peng recognized this rare, genuine lightness in Senior Bailin… a happiness he’d never sparked himself.