On the playground, flags fluttered in the breeze. Each class's flag bearer sprinted at the front, holding a large banner high. The PE rep's chants boomed:
"One, two, three, four!"
"One, two, three, four!" echoed the whole class.
Homeroom teacher Mr. Liang stood in the wind, his bald spot and graying hair making him stand out among the teachers. Lin Jin and Qin Yi tossed their backpacks onto the artificial turf and darted into the line. Classmates automatically parted to let them through, guiding them back to their spots. The orderly way the line opened and closed showed tardiness was far from rare.
Mr. Liang’s expression was predictably grim, but thanks to Qin Yi’s reputation, it wasn’t too harsh. Later arrivals weren’t so lucky—they were singled out into a small running squad. At first, they looked shy, but the squad kept growing. After the mini summer break, many had clearly grown lazy. Had they even finished their homework?
Lin Jin pondered this while running, when a classmate stepped on his shoe, yanking it off. He had to step out to fix it, then return under Mr. Liang’s kind yet piercing gaze—every stare felt like needles on his back.
The "mini summer vacation" was a tradition at Lin Jin’s high school. Modeled after Hengshui High’s strict regime, this school maximized every minute. Except for five precious days before Gaokao exam prep, classes ran year-round—even through theoretical summer breaks. Students got two days off every three weeks and one afternoon weekly. Those five Gaokao prep days were what First High students called their "mini summer vacation."
Qin Yi had spent it at his grandfather’s. Without his reliable friend nearby, Lin Jin had panicked when he noticed his strange condition. Growing up in a single-parent home, he’d always seen Qin Yi as a father figure.
Finally, the second morning bell rang. Liberated students surged back to classrooms in a bustling tide—a truly spectacular sight.
Morning self-study began. Lin Jin flipped open his Chinese textbook, Volume 1, picked an ancient poem at random, and recited it half-heartedly. He couldn’t grasp why the school forced such early memorization. Not everyone was a morning person, and even energetic students couldn’t handle classes ending past ten nightly!
His eyelids grew heavy. He often drifted off mid-recitation, eyes closed. Jolting awake again, he spotted Qin Yi already asleep on his desk. Unable to hold on, Lin Jin collapsed onto his own desk.
A book slapped his back, jolting him awake. Annoyed, he glared up—only to see Qin Yi’s cold face instead of the teacher. Just as he prepared to snap, his vision suddenly dropped. Qin Yi’s body loomed larger.
The torrent of curses racing through his mind vanished. Only one soft, crisp sound remained:
"Meow~"
