Feng Yijiu’s tightly clenched hand finally loosened, bit by bit.

Still, she silently filed away this grudge.

“Thanks,” Feng Yijiu said with a slight smile to Li Hao, then pulled out her math textbook, flipped to the table of contents, and slipped into “recall mode.”

“The diagnostic test covers middle school material,” Li Hao kindly reminded her before taking out his own notes to review.

“Got it,” Feng Yijiu replied noncommittally. Once reassured her knowledge hadn’t completely vanished, she relaxed, pulled out a novel, and dove in with quiet enjoyment.

Li Hao’s lips twitched downward. Staring at his absurdly handsome desk mate, he saw a ghost of his former slacker self.

Handsome? So what? A man needed substance! Li “Recharging” Hao silently drilled vocabulary—only to spot the guy reading a novel *during class*.

Seriously, could you at least hide that smug grin? Li Hao felt this new desk mate was purely here to collect credentials. Honestly, it was getting under his skin.

Worse yet, their math teacher radiated stern authority—commanding silence without a word.

“Last student in the first row—yes, you, the one smirking—come up. Define ‘set,’ then solve this…”

“Called out, just as expected,” Li Hao thought, a faint, inexplicable satisfaction tugging at his lips.

But Feng Yijiu strode up, solved the problem in swift strokes, dusted her hands lightly, and returned to her novel.

“V-very well done. Desk mate—your turn for these.”

Li Hao walked up numbly. Staring at the two red X’s on the board, then at Feng Yijiu lost in her book, emotions swirled inside him.

Truth was, three letters summed it up: FML.

Feng Yijiu shot him a knowing glance.

Li Hao: … Damn.

“Have you… already studied all this?” Li Hao asked during break.

“Nah, just skimmed it,” Feng Yijiu replied casually.

“Wow, Yijiu, your math foundation must be solid!” The girl in front turned, textbook in hand. “I’m stuck here—when union, intersection, and complement chain together like this? Too many symbols make my head spin.”

“Oh, start with the parentheses. Sketch a diagram first…” Feng Yijiu spun her pen in a wide arc, then scribbled solutions across the scratch paper with fluid confidence.

Watching his desk mate commandeer half his desk while chatting animatedly with the girl, Li Hao silently acknowledged the old saying: *Within books lie beauties fair.*

After explaining, Feng Yijiu glanced at the homework on the board, pulled out her exercise book, and finished it in minutes. Then—back to the novel.

*Just Because I Turned Into a Baby Dragon Girl Doesn’t Mean I’ll Be Spoiled*… Li Hao sucked in a breath at the unserious title, then stealthily leaned near her shoulder to peek. *Please be a study guide…*

“Here, take it,” Feng Yijiu said, feeling his warm breath brush her neck. Suppressing goosebumps, she snapped the book shut and handed it over.

With a magician’s flick, a new novel appeared in her hands. Back to reading.

Li Hao flipped two pages—definitely not study material. He glanced sideways.

*I Am My Own Childhood Friend*… Li Hao propped his chin thoughtfully. *Also not study material.*

A competitive spark flickered. *No way this guy’s good at everything. If needed… I’ve still got my dad on the school board.*

But knowledge was power. Li Hao watched closely.

English class: flipping pages at lightning speed, doodling vocab like it was a game.

Chemistry: doing English homework.

…

The *only* class he paid attention in? Dull history.

When the lunch bell rang, confidence bloomed in Li Hao. *He barely listened. I took notes. Grades come out—he’ll cry.*

*It’ll be me girls ask for help!* he cheered inwardly, though a quiet regret lingered—he still hadn’t found that girl from the hospital.

*If only she’d ask me…* Packing up, he spotted a white bundle peeking through Feng Yijiu’s half-zipped backpack.

“Must be tidy—carries a towel,” he murmured, grabbing his meal card.

Meanwhile, Feng Yijiu biked home. At the building entrance, panic struck: *I forgot to swap it back.*

Thinking of Cen Man waiting upstairs, she took a deep breath. Returning now was impossible—and the heat… She checked herself. Sweat wasn’t heavy, but the band-aid’s outline faintly showed.

She tugged her shirt loose, waited ten tense minutes in the lobby, then climbed upstairs.

“Back? Eat.” Cen Man, seemingly unaware of her fuss, gestured to the table and pulled two bowls from the fridge. “Drink this papaya and snow fungus sweet soup first. Good for you.”

“Thank you, Sister Cen Man,” Feng Yijiu said, wiping her brow. Her eyes lit up at the chilled bowl.

“Take your time—it’s all yours.” Cen Man’s gaze swept gently over her, patting her shoulder. “Like it? I’ll make more soon.”

“Mmm!” Feng Yijiu finished the bowl in seconds, lifted the pot lid eagerly. “Peanuts with pig’s trotters! Shredded carrots! Kelp and soybean soup! Yes!”

“Eat up,” Cen Man smiled warmly. These were all carefully prepared tonic dishes.

“Bring two milk cartons to school this afternoon.”

“Mmm!” Feng Yijiu was already in full devouring mode—serving herself less rice just to make room for more dishes.