Aunt Flo paid her visit right on the second day—and for some reason, Feng Yijiu’s menstrual cramps were unusually severe.

"Yijiu, why not skip school today?" Cen Man handed her a cup of warm brown sugar water. "Your cycle might still be unstable these past few months. Give it time; the discomfort will ease."

Feng Yijiu’s face was slightly pale. But taking leave every month… how embarrassing would that be? Honestly, even an idiot would notice something was off.

She pressed her lips together. *Just a little pain. No big deal.*

"Manman, I’ve got nothing to do at home anyway. I’ll go. If I feel unwell, I’ll come back."

Cen Man shook her head at Feng Yijiu’s stubbornness. She knew it—Yijiu was still clinging to that old "boy" mindset, like a crab tucking all its softness beneath a hard shell. That grit might suit a guy, but for a girl…

Still, Cen Man said nothing. Time was the best healer. Even crabs molt someday. Maybe once that shell shed—by choice or force—Yijiu would finally step out.

"I’ll drive you." Cen Man grabbed her keys, uneasy.

"Oh… okay." Feng Yijiu blinked, then nodded. Riding her bike today really wasn’t feasible—and on this, she wasn’t stubborn.

"I turned on the seat warmer. And take this." Cen Man pressed a heat pack into her hands. "Stick it right here on your stomach. It helps. And avoid cold stuff today—"

Feng Yijiu hugged her schoolbag close, lowering her head slightly.

"Um… I’m off, Manman." By the school gate, her cheeks were flushed. Stepping inside, she froze. *Wait—I’m still wearing that beige camisole.*

"Oh no…" She gently touched the fabric. *This color? Impossible to miss.*

She steeled herself: *Gotta change. Now.*

But at the restroom door, she halted.

Male? Female? With those half-height stalls… whichever she chose, she’d look like a creep.

Hesitating, uneasy, she gritted her teeth, threw on her uniform jacket, and headed straight to class.

"Huh? Jacket in this weather?" Li Hao poked her shoulder lightly, noting her pale, wilted look. Something about the feel felt… off.

"Mm. Not feeling well," Feng Yijiu mumbled into her desk, too worried about the camisole to muster energy.

"Guess I’ll handle the math homework alone," Li Hao said, standing.

Feng Yijiu almost rose too—but stayed put, perfectly embodying *willing but unable*.

Mental stress aside, a slow simmer churned in her lower belly. She felt like a fish skewered over flames. Growing up hurt. And of course—salt and cumin rubbed right in.

Speak of the devil.

Li Hao breezed over. *Maybe a little distance isn’t so bad*, Feng Yijiu thought.

"Stay up gaming last night?" His "concern" grated—especially when he slapped her back too hard. The more she stared at his head, the more it looked like an oversized walnut. *Begging to be cracked.*

"No," she turned away. "Just… didn’t sleep well. Caught a chill."

"Oh!" Li Hao’s eyes widened. With a mischievous grin, he patted her shoulder. "Drink more hot water."

He laughed at his own icy joke—then met Feng Yijiu’s stone-cold stare.

She silently pulled out her phone.

*Danger!!!* Li Hao’s sweat broke out. *If she posts that…*

"W-wait! Just kidding!"

"Go get me water." She handed him her thermos. Holding this trump card, she realized: bossing someone around felt… blissful.

Watching Li Hao’s forlorn retreat, peace finally settled over her world.

"Here. Water." He thrust the thermos back, jaw tight.

Steam blasted her face the moment she opened it. She rolled her eyes.

But Feng Yijiu never swallowed insults quietly.

When class began, she casually reached over his desk. A note fluttered down.

Li Hao unfolded it—and his nose nearly twisted.

*"Sigh… Wen Yao and I planned to invite you Sunday. Guess we’re just not meant to be! [Smile]"*

Seeing her doodled smiley, his face froze.

*Damn. No honor among the young!*

Before he could react—the teacher spotted him.

"Li Hao! Explain these dyes’ functions." The biology teacher eyed the "reformed troublemaker."

Li Hao’s breath hitched. Feng Yijiu offered zero help. Her upright textbook hid a note. She flipped past scribbled notes—to reveal two bold words on the back: *Serves you right.*

He stammered out the answer (mostly correct). Sat down. Fumed.

His eyes locked on the roll of transparent tape.

A wicked smirk curled his lips. *She sits right in front. Timing means nothing next to home-field advantage.*

He uncapped a thick marker. Carefully, deliberately, he drew the neatest Chinese character of his life.

Gently…

Then he patted her back, sliding over a mint. "Here. Suck this. Helps with drowsiness."