X/X. Thursday. Sunny.

Today, Yaoyao glanced at me once more. Her smile felt so healing. Before, I’d always collapse onto my bed the moment I got back to the dorm. Not anymore—I catch myself thinking of her.

The longer I spend with her, the more she embodies the “Elder Sister” I’ve always imagined. I take back what I said. Maybe Yaoyao… really can become the “Elder Sister” and fulfill her grand dream.

She’s like the first ray of light in my life. I’ve even started wishing I were a boy—it startled me a little.

Hi~ My dearest.

------

Nangong Ruihui closed her diary and slumped onto the desk. No matter how Mu Yao tugged at her, she refused to let him see it.

The misunderstanding between Nangong Ruihui and Xia Xi had cleared. Xia Xi resumed her role as student council secretary, and the controversy surrounding her quieted—for now. With Nangong Ruihui’s personal explanation, no one dared voice objections openly.

“Yaoyao, exam next class. Nervous?” Nangong Ruihui asked lightly.

“Not at all,” Mu Yao stretched lazily. “I’m more curious what’s in your diary. Badmouthing me? That’s why you won’t show it, right?”

Today was Yingshengya Academy’s first monthly exam. Students across every class scrambled—grinding problems or cramming last-minute. Only the two of them in Grade 10, Class C chatted and laughed.

Mu Yao actually didn’t want to talk. The room buzzed with scribbling pens and flipping pages. Their conversation felt like it was blasted through a high-powered speaker—painfully loud. But Nangong Ruihui didn’t seem to care.

“My diary’s for my eyes only,” Nangong Ruihui scoffed. “How about this: we compete on total scores. Class monitor—you won’t back down, will you?”

“Of course not! What if I win?”

“If you beat me, I’ll *consider* showing you my diary. But if you fall short… Remember that promise to compensate me? I wouldn’t mind seeing you wear stockings with holes to class.”

“You!! Shameless!”

She was referencing the zombie-like horde that swarmed after Long Xueer’s identity leaked. *He’d* been chased relentlessly; *she’d* been swamped too—the fallout still lingered.

“Haha, shameless?” Nangong Ruihui smirked. “Then beat me.”

“Fine!”

Mu Yao accepted. As class monitor, how could he flinch? His grades weren’t far behind hers. If he improved faster, he might just surpass her.

No one skipped review—not even them. Their methods differed but aimed the same: skip mindless grinding. Master core principles, then tackle obscure, tricky questions. Save exam time. Double-check. High scores became almost inevitable.

…

As the exam began, before papers were handed out, Nangong Ruihui’s hand landed on Mu Yao’s pale thigh. He shot her a sharp glare, warning her to stop.

Seven subjects total. Exams ran until 2 p.m. tomorrow. Dismissal followed immediately after.

As a boy, Mu Yao naturally leaned toward science. He targeted math—the highest-weight subject—aiming for a perfect score to narrowly humble the arrogant Nangong Ruihui.

For every subject, Mu Yao submitted after her. Nangong Ruihui just smiled. Submitting later didn’t mean scoring higher. She genuinely doubted he could surpass her total.

While students tested, teachers urgently graded papers, curious how many would stumble on this exam—designed tougher than the city-wide standard.

At exactly 6 p.m., scores for four subjects posted. Grade 10, Class C students crowded the classroom door—

“Holy crap! I got 86 in math, but Mu Yao scored *perfect*! Even Nangong Ruihui scored four points less than *her*!” a former top student groaned.

“Don’t just look at math,” a girl admiring Nangong Ruihui countered. “Nangong scored three higher in English, two in Chinese. Overall, Mu Yao still trails her—but it’s impressive.”

“Two monsters… Let’s go. This crushes my confidence!”

The exam was brutally hard, especially the last two math problems—dripping with advanced concepts. Some protested, but seeing Mu Yao’s perfect score silenced them. Complaining now would just make them look foolish.

“Yaoyao.”

Nangong Ruihui gave a thumbs-up. Mu Yao grabbed her hand. “What’s this? I scored lower today—I’ll work harder tomorrow. But I won’t surrender until the very end!”

“Look how worked up you are. I gave math my all. You truly beat me,” Nangong Ruihui admitted.

“Hmph~”

Mu Yao was sure she was mocking him. She’d probably already prepared those hole-ridden stockings—that scheming freak.

The next day, remaining scores posted beside yesterday’s. Mu Yao dashed to check first.

100, 98, 99. Nangong Ruihui: 99, 97, 100. Combined totals? Identical.

“Ahhh, why the *same* score?!” Mu Yao groaned. No diary for him.

“I didn’t expect this either…” Nangong Ruihui murmured. Her plan to humiliate him had fizzled.

Unlike Mu Yao’s disappointment, anxiety coiled tight in Nangong Ruihui’s chest. A careless joke had nearly let him surpass her. Unease settled deep—and half an hour later, Nangong Yao called.

“Ruihui, what happened? I checked the scores. How could a *girl* in your class almost beat you?”

“Dad, she’s the Mu family’s child I mentioned—Mu Yao. She’s a girl… I’ll learn from this. It won’t happen again.” Crisis washed over Nangong Ruihui.

“Oh?” Nangong Yao’s voice turned calm. “Perfect. Tomorrow, your two elder sisters and I will be home. If you don’t return today, bring her tomorrow. Say *I* invited her.”