"Do I really have to stay in this position?" Guyen glanced at the long legs before him and turned his head away. Though Jiang Juan wore school uniform trousers, Guyen’s vivid imagination easily pierced through the surface to the reality beneath.
Jiang Juan’s lake-blue eyes shimmered with a trace of smugness. Seeing the other avoid his gaze, he felt he’d already dominated Guyen in presence.
"Exactly. Speak."
Fine. If you’re okay with it, Guyen wasn’t one to fuss. He simply turned his head back, and the two stared awkwardly at each other.
A few students still lingered in the classroom, their gazes drifting toward the pair. Especially the girl who’d sat behind them during class—now standing by the door, her face flushed as if feverish, her breathing quick and uneven.
Guyen raised his left hand and scratched his cheek with his index finger. "Well, uh, we had some friction before. I’ve thought it over—you do have it tough. Let’s just bury the hatchet and act like strangers."
Jiang Juan arched a brow slightly. "I thought we were always strangers."
"Yeah, right. We’ve always been strangers." Guyen pressed his tongue lightly against his teeth, wiped below his nose with his left hand, and snorted a laugh.
Jiang Juan’s bizarre chat style had successfully ignited Guyen’s inner defiance.
"This is just advice from a stranger. Life’s lived for yourself, sure. But if you want people to like you, you’d better fix that twisted personality first."
"What a coincidence. I don’t want strangers liking me." Jiang Juan draped one arm over his thigh on the desk, smiling carelessly.
"Oh, how amusing. Then I’ll be blunt—it might sting." Guyen pressed his lips together, nodded, and leaned fully back in his chair.
Jiang Juan lifted his chin slightly, signaling him to continue.
"Jiang Juan, you’re not cute at all." Guyen wiped the smirk from his lips, his tone dead serious.
"What? Cute?!" Those words shattered President Jiang’s composure.
Their voices had been low, leaving onlookers to imagine the scene. Now, seeing President Jiang suddenly shout in agitation—"C-cute?"—everyone froze.
"I know it’s hard to accept. But it’s the truth."
"Unbelievable. So, Guyen, you sat here wasting five minutes of my time just to say that?" Jiang Juan had to admit—he’d never felt such intense emotions in his seventeen years as he had these past few days.
"Of course. And about burying the hatchet earlier? Just pretend I never said it. Every time you open your mouth, I get annoyed." Guyen grinned shamelessly.
Jiang Juan nodded, exhaling sharply. His right arm still rested on his long leg as he leaned forward, his head hovering just above Guyen’s hair. A faint mint scent filled the air.
"I. Also. Find. You. Extremely. Annoying. Scumbag." With each word, his left finger jabbed Guyen’s chest. Then he stood, swung his leg gracefully over the desk, and stepped down.
"Don’t bother me again, stranger." Jiang Juan grabbed his backpack from the rear seat, shot Guyen a glance, ignored the surrounding stares, and walked out.
"Ugh, so infuriating. I’ve been covering up something huge for you." Guyen tugged lightly at his collar with his left hand, letting cool air rush in with the motion.
"No public decency at all. Stepping on the desk that long and not even wiping it." Guyen shook his head at the shoe prints on the surface.
He stood, walked to the podium, grabbed the chalkboard eraser, returned to the prints, and swiped it carelessly a few times.
Guyen released the eraser, eyed the now-worse mess on the desk, and raised a brow. "Whatever. Let the next lucky soul handle this."
"President! President!" Jiang Juan’s anger still simmered when a familiar female voice called from behind. He turned.
Yang Han carried a backpack, her usually neat clothes slightly disheveled. Her looks weren’t striking, but her near-170cm frame and captivating long legs had earned her some popularity.
"President, you left so quickly." Yang Han pushed up her glasses, her breath uneven.
"Minister Yang? What is it?" Jiang Juan calmed his tone, speaking gently.
"I thought I’d walk with you to the student council. Some documents need your review."
Jiang Juan knew Yang Han harbored feelings for him—a common issue he handled by staying distant: no closeness, no hints, no ambiguity. Bringing it up would only embarrass her.
"Guyen’s quite something. I’ve never seen the president lose his cool like that." Yang Han, also from Class 1 International, had witnessed their clash.
Remembering Guyen’s "not cute" remark, Jiang Juan’s fury flared anew.
"True. I can only manage to understand the thoughts of carbon-based life forms."
