Class after class dragged on, breaks visibly shortened. What should’ve been ten minutes shrank to two or three—barely enough to blink.

Sitting up front meant constant teacher attention, but it had perks: focusing made time fly. Unlike the back rows where no one cared, where you’d nap through half a lesson and wake up still trapped. Pure torture.

Of course, if the class was incomprehensible *and* offered no distractions? Worse than lazy back-row napping.

Like Chinese class. A sleep-inducing slog. Yue Feather couldn’t muster an ounce of energy. Worse, the teacher wasn’t some pretty young woman—just a middle-aged man. Zero eye candy. And sleeping? Impossible. The teacher would creep over and *twist his ear*…

Ear-twisting hurt way more than arm-pinching. After tasting that pain once or twice, Yue Feather dared not nap intentionally. He’d fight sleep, but inevitably lose… and inevitably get punished.

“Ah—ow! Ow ow ow! It hurts!” Yue Feather yelped the moment his head hit the desk, the teacher’s ear-twisting kung fu striking fast.

His scream jolted Ji Fan awake. Ji Fan sat in the same front-row cluster, just as guilty of dozing off.

Luckily, the teacher caught Yue Feather first. Ji Fan escaped by a hair.

Beside him, Murong Qiuyu covered her mouth, giggling. The teacher turned sharply. “Murong Qiuyu. What’s so funny?”

“N-nothing…” She shook her head, but her eyes curved like crescent moons. Her laughter was breathtakingly lovely.

Ji Fan stared, momentarily spellbound, before shaking off the daze.

He liked pretty girls, sure. But he knew exactly what kind he wanted.

Murong Qiuyu? Even with her sweet personality, he’d never chase her. Girls like her drew swarms of suitors. Even if you won her over, you’d spend every day paranoid some guy would steal her away.

He had zero interest in wearing the green hat.

Besides, after days as her desk partner, Ji Fan saw past her gentle facade. She was cunning. How else could she navigate admirers while staying effortlessly magnetic?

Just thinking about Yue Feather crushing on her worried him. He knew it’d never work. It wasn’t about putting Yue Feather down—it was just fact.

He actually rooted for Tong Junxiao and Rain Tower. Their personalities balanced perfectly: one soft, one fierce.

What Ji Fan didn’t know? Yue Feather’s “crush” on Murong Qiuyu was just distant idol worship—like fawning over a celebrity. His feelings for Silver Bell? *That* was real attraction. Though he wasn’t sure if it counted as love.

“Murong Qiuyu,” the teacher pressed. “Your thoughts on this question?”

“Hmm—” She rose gracefully, smiled at the teacher, and recited her answer from the test paper.

This was an open-ended question. Everyone’s interpretation differed, leaving room for creativity.

The teacher always called on Murong Qiuyu first. She was class rep, yes—but more importantly, her writing flowed like poetry. Clear, elegant, almost rhythmic.

That’s why she was called “goddess.”

It wasn’t just looks. It was her aura. Right now, reciting her answer, she carried the poise of a well-bred young lady.

Looks and grace together created irresistible charm.

“Ugh, why aren’t our girls’ uniforms skirts?” someone muttered below.

“Seriously… I wanna see thighs…”

“Thighs? Classless much?”

Yue Feather felt that pang of regret too. Skirt uniforms would’ve made school far more scenic.

The Chinese class blurred past in Yue Feather’s daydreams.

Test reviews were the dullest thing alive. A whole week of this? His head throbbed just thinking about it. He almost *wanted* finals to hurry up.

The moment class ended, Yue Feather scrambled to copy homework. Orders had dropped near finals, but a few clients remained. Five bucks a day—fifty in ten days. Not bad.

Money added up, after all.

Yue Feather tuned out chaos easily. Years of solitude built that skill. Even in a roaring classroom, he’d calmly copy assignments.

Zhan Qi was similar. Every break, she’d stay seated—doing homework or sketching cute doodles, lost in her own world.

Sometimes it wasn’t about *choosing* solitude. It was about not fitting into others’ worlds.

“Pork floss bread—I want some!” Rain Tower bellowed.

“I-I already bit it…” Tong Junxiao whispered.

“No problem! Tear off the unbitten side!”

“Uh… n-no… it’s… too…”

“What’s the big deal? So stingy!”

“N-not that…” Tong Junxiao’s face flushed crimson. Words failed him.

“Share~”

“D-don’t get so close…”

“Wah—!”

Before he finished, Rain Tower pounced. She tackled him flat to the floor. Less accident, more ambush.

“Heh… no sharing? Punishment time.” Rain Tower grinned wickedly. Shocking—this tough-girl act hid a playful prankster.

“Huh? Huh?” She casually pressed her knee between Tong Junxiao’s legs. His eyes flew wide in disbelief.

A crowd gathered instantly. Spectacle magnet.

“Hehe, watch this~ Cheek pinch attack~” Rain Tower’s “evil” hands molded Tong Junxiao’s face like dough. “So soft! Amazing texture!”

“Really? My turn!” Boys and girls alike reached out, pinching his cheeks.

“Seriously soft!”

“Like a girl’s!”

“Haha, he *is* a girl!” someone laughed—teasing or joking, hard to tell.

“What if Tong Junxiao wore a dress?” a genius suggested.

“Oho? Brilliant idea!” Rain Tower covered her mouth, laughing. Same uniform as everyone, yet she radiated queenly confidence. Just… aura.

The bell saved Tong Junxiao. The crowd scattered. He scrambled up, face still burning like a scolded bride.

“Hehe, too cute!” Rain Tower’s tsundere side flared around him. His cheeks were irresistible—made you want to squeeze them hard.

Tong Junxiao had long lashes but small eyes. Unless he widened them, they stayed gentle slits. Not the typical bright-eyed pretty boy—but uniquely adorable. That was his charm.

“Lucky guy,” Yue Feather teased, sliding copied homework into his desk. He turned and slapped Tong Junxiao’s shoulder. “Some perks to that face.”

Tong Junxiao flinched, head ducking lower.

Girls often went to the bathroom in packs. Boys did too—just less obviously. Close friends still teamed up.

“Junxiao, bathroom break!” Ji Fan called. “Old Ye coming?”

“Sure.” No chatting during class. Bathroom trips were their loophole.

Tong Junxiao nodded mutely, shuffling after them with tiny steps.

“Dude, why walk like that? Practicing to be a girl?”

“N-no…” He shook his head hard, but that shy flush made him look even more feminine. Most people mistook him for a girl on first sight.

He stayed silent all the way to the restroom. Once there, he darted into a stall.

“What’s his deal?” Ji Fan frowned at Yue Feather.

“How should I know?” Yue Feather rolled his eyes. “Peeing his pants already?”

"*cough*" Ji Fan choked slightly. He quickly recalled something awkward. "Could it be..."

"What?"

"Back then, when he was pressed so close to the class monitor... did he react?"

"Huh?" Yue Feather looked utterly confused.

"Nothing, nothing..." Ji Fan hastily waved his hand, looking sheepish. His hesitant manner only deepened Yue Feather's confusion.