January 4th. The short New Year holiday ended. Those who needed to work went to work; those who needed to study went to school.

Breakfast that morning was heavier than usual. Father didn’t utter a word. Stepmother and little sister fidgeted awkwardly. Yumo, weighed down by his own thoughts, couldn’t swallow a single bite.

Father drove off first in his green-plated EV, taking them to work and school. Yumo would head to campus alone.

He trudged downstairs to unlock his bicycle.

Just as he pushed it forward—

"You’ve suppressed yourself too much since you were little."

"...Huh?"

The sudden words froze Yumo mid-step.

He turned. Yusuozaai leaned against the bike shed entrance, gazing at him with that ever-gentle look.

"Yumo, you were never meant to follow rules blindly. You have talent. Ideas. Courage. Drive. Yet you waste it all."

"...You overestimate me. I’m just a boring loser."

"A boring loser wouldn’t punch classmates with a fist engulfed in flames."

"I just lost my head... Mostly because you pushed me too far."

"Then push yourself that far again. What’s wrong with that?"

"............"

"Miss Demon believes in you~"

"Shut up."

Yumo refused to spare the monster another glance. He mounted his bike and rode off.

Today, he wouldn’t detour under the bridge to clear his head.

——————————

——————————

Liyu always arrived early.

Linhai No.1 High had no uniforms. Students flaunted personal styles—except her. She wore the same baggy tracksuit as always, the oversized top and pants swallowing her plump frame.

She’d once tried changing her image. A pure white dress. But the unfriendly girls mocked her as "water-injected pork wrapped in bandages" the moment she stepped on campus. She never wore anything else after that.

But what could she do?

She was overweight. Tongue-tied. Unfashionable. Dull. Timid. And her grades? Merely average. How could someone like her possibly be popular?

Yet one person still spoke to her willingly: Yumo, class monitor, duty officer, and chemistry representative of Class 3, Grade 11.

Such titles might suggest a teacher’s pet. The opposite was true. His grades were mediocre. He kept to himself. Beyond official duties, he barely interacted with classmates. In many ways, he was even more withdrawn than Liyu.

But he’d asked if she was being bullied. Days ago, she’d overheard him arguing with their homeroom teacher about her in the office. Guilt and warmth tangled in her chest.

Liyu had quietly noticed Yumo long before this.

He was tall, lean but solidly built. Unkempt hair brushed his neck; messy bangs and half-rimmed glasses hid his forehead and eyes. Pale skin, almost bloodless. Long fingers like pale spiders... Maybe he’d be handsome if he dressed better? Should she suggest it? No. What right did she have?

If someone like her liked him, Yumo would surely hate it.

Still—speaking of Yumo—what he did on New Year’s Eve had shattered everyone’s image of him.

On this first day back, some copied homework, others chatted about holidays or solved problems. But no one dared speak loudly about that bizarre battle.

Zhangyuanzhou’s close friends looked uneasy. Zhangyuanzhou himself was absent. So was Yumo’s seat.

Tanglingxue, however, had come.

*(Huh? Isn’t she Zhangyuanzhou’s girlfriend? I thought she’d skip class with him...)*

Liyu was puzzled. But the ill-reputed class beauty seemed indifferent to Zhangyuanzhou’s absence. When his friends questioned her, she merely shrugged, her icy aura screaming, *"His attendance is none of my concern."*

Suddenly, Tanglingxue seemed to sense Liyu’s stare. Her sharp gaze snapped toward her. Liyu flinched, ducking her head to fake homework.

——————————

Tanglingxue’s New Year holiday had been awful.

Her father—shockingly—wanted to dine with his illegitimate daughter. She’d left her beloved modified motorcycle in the freezing garage to endure French cuisine at a fancy restaurant she hated.

Worse, his legal wife and legitimate son attended. Her father probably thought a holiday meal would mend family ties. Instead, the wife seized every chance to boast about her "excellent son," subtly mocking Tanglingxue, the mistress’s child.

The dinner ended with Tanglingxue snapping. The wife’s triumphant smirk—*"See? Children of mistresses have no manners"*—poisoned her mood for the next two days.

...Though family wasn’t her only worry. Two boys occupied her thoughts too.

First: Zhangyuanzhou.

They weren’t dating. Just acquaintances in the same circle. But his infatuation was no secret. He loved crafting the illusion she was his girlfriend. Annoying.

Second: Yumo.

The class’s universally acknowledged nice-guy monitor.

A triple-duty pushover. Dull. Quiet beyond official matters. Average grades. Glasses. His looks? Actually fit Tanglingxue’s taste. But his fashion sense—Hengyuanxiang sweaters, polo shirts, high-waisted trousers stolen from his dad’s closet—was criminal. And he was weak. Let others bully him without fighting back. Tanglingxue despised that.

Yet what happened on December 31st had stunned her.

She’d thought a class monitor letting himself be pushed around was pathetic. Then he’d given her that spectacular surprise. Just picturing Zhangyuanzhou curled on the ground, sobbing like a coward, made her want to laugh. Even his final threat to her added perfect spice.

*Yumo. Good job.*

*I, Tanglingxue, crown you King of Savage Moves.*

But he’d surely face school punishment. How would he handle it? Would he create more surprises?

At that thought, Tanglingxue’s mood lifted.

Just then—

"Sorry I’m late."

A familiar voice cut through the classroom door.

Silence dropped like a curtain.

Yumo entered, clad in his usual Hengyuanxiang-brand puffer jacket, outdated polo shirt, and high-waisted trousers. Messy bangs and half-rimmed glasses still hid his eyes.

No one used to glance his way when he entered.

Today, every head snapped toward him—then quickly looked away.

He scratched his cheek awkwardly, stepped onto the podium, and swept the room with a detached gaze from behind his lenses. He cleared his throat—he was about to speak! To drop threats! To intimidate the class—

!

"Today’s duty students, come help finish cleaning. Quickly."

That was all. He pulled a broom and dustpan from the storage cabinet and began routine chores.

*That’s it?*

...Relief washed over the class, mixed with strange disappointment.

Everyone now feared and wondered about their monitor. News of his clash with Zhangyuanzhou had spread through WeChat groups. He was famous.

Yet he acted like nothing happened. Cold as ever. Calm as ever. Cleaning with the same quiet diligence... Students began doubting that night was just a dream.

Then—

"Oh? So this is your school, Yumo?"

A girl stepped through the doorway.

Hair: stark white—a shade evoking decay and death.

Clothing: thin loungewear despite the freezing cold—teasing modesty without commitment.

Face: a bizarre mix of beauty and poverty—far more striking than plain prettiness.

Left eye: covered by a medical patch—some illness?

Curious stares fixed on her.

"...Huh?"

Only Yumo’s face twisted in blatant disgust—as if he’d seen a ghost.

"You skipped breakfast again? Bad habit."

The girl approached the podium—bare toes peeking from cheap plastic slippers—holding out a Shuanghui Wangzhongwang sausage. Yumo didn’t look at her. He kept wiping the podium, snatching the sausage with his free hand.

He muttered something too low for anyone but her to hear. She hopped onto the podium, perching sideways with unnaturally thin legs crossed, watching him clean with keen interest. Yumo ignored her completely.

"Need a shoulder rub? Foot massage~?" she offered. He gave the faintest shake of his head.

"Your hair’s messy. Want me to comb it?" she asked. An even smaller shake.

"Introduce me to your class? Your school?" Her eyes swept the room. His expression darkened. He subtly flipped her off behind the podium.

His strange reactions screamed: *Pretend she doesn’t exist.*

A student finally blurted out:

"Uh, Monitor?"

"Yeah?" Yumo looked up, broom in hand—and realized the entire class was staring.

"Monitor... this girl seems to know you? Who is she?"

"Eh? Ah? Wait—WHAT? You—can you all *see*—hold on, HOLD ON! You—come here!"

He yanked the girl’s shoulder, dragging her out. She waved serenely at the class, chirping, "Thank you all for taking care of Yumo~"

The moment they vanished, the classroom exploded.

"What was that? His relative?" "No family resemblance! Girlfriend?" "Has to be!" "She’s pretty!" "Way too skinny though!" "Girlfriend visiting school?" "So bold!?" "Quiet Monitor’s hiding a lover?" "Quiet my ass—he used *Flame Fist*!"

Gossip flared like wildfire. All except two remained silent.

*(He... has a girlfriend...?)*

A sharp pang clenched Liyu’s chest.

*(Such a bold girlfriend...)*

For some reason, Tanglingxue felt an odd tightness in her own.