Actually, it wasn’t really a Tieba scenario—that’d make it seem like Lin Muke was throwing herself at Ye Huaixian. Truth was, it was no different from moments before: Ye Huaixian left an opening, and Lin Muke, gathering her courage, quietly closed the gap.
They looked just like a couple who, the second class ended, would cling inseparably in the hallway, gazing at the view outside.
But this put *me* in a bind. I’d kept my distance from Lin Muke on purpose to avoid trouble. Now she wouldn’t let up—and if I tried explaining this was a headache? No one would believe me. They’d just think I was ungrateful, crying sour grapes despite having it good. Isn’t comparing yourself to others enough to drive you mad?
What could I do? My heart belonged only to Xiao Xian and Senior Jiang Yueyan.
—Oh right, and the Party, the nation… plus those twenty-four-character Core Socialist Values.
So I mostly ignored Lin Muke’s hints, stubbornly playing dumb. But let’s be real—in full view of everyone, a high school guy and girl lingering alone between classes? That spoke volumes. A storm began to gather.
Option one: the classic crowd-pleaser… a confession! Girl drops hints like that? Time for a responsible guy to step up and kick the ball into the net. And the onlookers? Ready to chant, “Get together! Get together!”
But I (Xiao Xian and Senior Jiang Yueyan flashing through my mind)… absolutely could not.
Which led to option two: brushing her off. Honestly, just a little evasion and playing dumb sent a clear “no.” Human communication isn’t just about blunt words…
Right on cue—as if answering my silent plea—the bell rang. Lin Muke’s face fell sharply. I forced myself not to look and walked back to class.
But inside, something felt off. Most guys shot me glances—disdain, jealousy, envy, resentment—but only for a split second. Then they buried their heads in books, scribbling furiously, rocking while reciting texts, as if terrified of wasting a single moment.
???
Since when did these guys care *this* much about studying? Weren’t you the same ones drooling over my homework minutes ago? I wasn’t even this shocked when Xiao Xian said she was my daughter. After a month here, I knew these guys: masters of fun, utterly lazy in studies. Otherwise, I wouldn’t be the class’s homework supplier—ahem, *provider*, not ringleader!
Which brings me to Lanling High School’s quirks. Founded by the wealthy to nurture heirs and give back, it’s a top-tier academy open citywide. Campus size, architecture, faculty—you can’t help muttering, “All this costs money… all this costs money.”
Right beside it lies Lanling District, the city’s most prestigious neighborhood. Where my long-admired Senior Jiang Yueyan lives.
Call it bold: it doesn’t segregate by class. It welcomes talented students from ordinary backgrounds. Young masters, young ladies, commoners—all share one classroom.
Getting in? Not easy. As someone who made it, I tasted pressure usually saved for third-years.
Equally notable: the school’s “Academy Level Examination,” open to all since founding. Pass it, earn ranks, gain tiered access to resources.
In short, every classroom mixes second-gen rich, commoners, heirs, and heirs-apparent. Values collide, clash, reconcile, and grow—forging each student’s worldview.
*That’s* Lanling High’s true purpose. The wealthy don’t want heirs who’d say, “Why not eat cake?” And kids like me? We leap beyond our limits, reaching wider horizons.
A bold experiment. Those anime “young lady academies”? Pure fiction.
…Though I did once imagine being the “token commoner.”
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