Mu Yao had truly steeled her resolve this time—she *would* become the Elder Sister. If she couldn’t even trust herself, how could she expect Nangong Ruihui to believe in her?
He’d probably just laugh, calling her a coward. Not only had her family fallen from grace, but she’d grown timid too.
So for herself—and to make Nangong Ruihui and everyone else see her in a new light—she *had* to become the spotlight-stealing Elder Sister.
If even a boy could claim that title… then Lan Xi’s height didn’t seem so unreachable after all.
Afternoon
“Good afternoon, Ruihui~” The moment Mu Yao spotted Nangong Ruihui, she flashed an innocent, sweet smile, hoping he’d glance her way.
It wasn’t flattery—just basic courtesy for treating her to lunch.
“Mm. Yaoyao. Good afternoon.”
Nangong Ruihui’s tone stayed icy, though he’d surprisingly added a few extra words.
“Wait—did you hear that?! Nangong said *six whole words* to Mu Yao? Did the sun rise in the west?!”
“I heard it too! He usually gives one-word answers max…”
“Last time I asked him something, he just nodded!”
“And he called her *Yaoyao*? She called him *Ruihui*? What happened over lunch?!”
A cluster of girls chattered excitedly, as if those few words shattered his aloof image.
“You’ve really left an impression,” Mu Yao muttered, facepalming in mock despair.
Nangong Ruihui ignored them. Let others gossip. Faking yourself was the real absurdity—false fronts always crumble before truth. Besides, he didn’t care what those girls thought.
“Ruihui… do you think I’m pretty?” Mu Yao rested her chin on his desk, cheeks puffed adorably.
*She’s up to her antics again,* he thought. *Flirting for no reason? Must have an ulterior motive. Let’s see what she does next.*
“Beautiful. You’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen. Honestly.” His expression stayed dead serious—impossible to tell if he meant it.
“Then… do you like me?”
“Enough. You’re overstepping our agreement. Don’t act familiar with me—unless you want me to look down on you, just like everyone else.”
“Ruihui…”
Tears welled in Mu Yao’s eyes as she played the pitiful card. Until she became the Elder Sister, she’d try *every* method. Affection points built up slowly.
*Damn it… what’s she after? I’ve always been cold to her, yet she…*
*I’ll make you see my worth.*
The afternoon’s first-period teacher was the same plump, bespectacled man from morning—thirties, with a receding hairline already hinting at his future. Mu Yao could practically picture it.
A receding hairline? Nobody liked that look. Only eccentric weirdos would *choose* it.
“Hello, everyone! Since we’re all familiar now—I’m Wang Chuanqi, your homeroom teacher.”
Wang Chuanqi swept his arm wide, writing his name boldly on the board—*Chuanqi*. Truly “legendary”! A god-tier name, leagues above “X Fan.” Destiny awaited!
He was secretly proud. Yeah, a little cringey—but undeniably iconic. The academy’s most memorable name, no contest.
Once, a forum post titled *“Wang Chuanqi and Principal Long Yue Are an Item”* surfaced. Moderator Wang Chuanqi deleted it instantly. Ridiculous! Principal Long Yue had only arrived days ago. He’d taught here seven years—how dare they slander him?
“From today, I’ll teach Chinese and PE. Let’s make our class the top among all 22 freshman classes. Together!”
*Clap clap clap—*
Enthusiastic applause filled the room. Even Nangong Ruihui clapped. Students smiled; Wang Chuanqi didn’t mind. His name *was* kinda funny.
“I’ll pick a class monitor today. Based on middle school scores, the top five are: Nangong Ruihui, Mu Yao, Zhao Zhuo, Liu Yinlan, Cao Ge. We’ll choose from them. Objections?”
“No!” the class chorused.
Grades ruled everywhere. Scores reflected effort. A low-scoring monitor? Unacceptable.
“Two boys, three girls—excellent! Girls holding their own. Boys, step up!” Wang Chuanqi checked the gender column.
*Two boys?* Mu Yao blinked. With Principal Long Yue’s arrangement, *her* gender was registered female. So besides Nangong Ruihui… who was the other boy? Zhao Zhuo? Cao Ge? Both sounded masculine.
She couldn’t wait to see.
When the five stepped up, Mu Yao learned Cao Ge was the girl—true to her name, zero “soft girl” vibes. More like a gang boss.
“Bro Chuanqi,” Nangong Ruihui raised a hand. “I’ll skip monitor duty, but I’ll solve the problem. Okay?”
*Her scores were that close?* He’d underestimated her. A silent apology formed in his heart.
“Of course. Student council keeps you busy.”
Wang Chuanqi erased his name and scribbled a twisted, convoluted math problem.
Nangong Ruihui froze for a split second—*fresh first-year university calculus?* Pulling out the big guns already?
No panic. He’d drilled similar problems all summer. Formulas stayed sharp.
The relentless problem-solving machine began. Beside him, Mu Yao kept pace—just a hair slower.
Wang Chuanqi knew the difficulty. Two solution paths. The harder required sophomore-level knowledge. His hope? Just one student cracking the simpler method.
