To everyone’s surprise, after passing through Lanfeng High School’s gates, Gu Chuan headed straight for the third-year students’ area.

Ji Gewei blinked in slight surprise, then her gaze softened. With a helpless sigh, she followed—but this time, not half a step behind him. She walked beside him.

In a campus buzzing with youthful energy, such a sight naturally drew attention.

Passing beneath the wisteria-draped corridor, they met junior Student Council members.

“G-good morning, President!”

“Good morning,” Ji Gewei replied calmly, her posture graceful.

Most juniors, spotting Gu Chuan, froze—confused, then awkwardly shocked. Ji Gewei ignored them all.

Gu Chuan, however, blinked more frequently than usual. His long lashes cast the morning’s first delicate shadow under the rising sun.

He was the kind of guy who made girls dream of lying beside him, doing nothing but quietly counting his beautiful lashes.

A girl’s fantasy.

Yet those who knew his “reputation” couldn’t fathom him walking with Ji Gewei, Lanfeng’s goddess.

A senior blocked Ji Gewei’s path, voice strained but sharp:

“President Ji… how can you be with *him*?”

“You don’t know what he’s infamous for…”

Ji Gewei arched a brow slightly and glanced at Gu Chuan.

His expression remained unreadable.

“I’ve heard the rumors,” she said evenly. “But anyone who actually meets him sees they fall apart.”

“After getting to know him, I think he’s… quite nice.”

She’d never praised a boy like this before—her tone held genuine warmth.

“But, President—!”

*(She’s been charmed by him!)* he wanted to shout. *Girls who get close to him fall hard—even helping him count the money after he sells them out!*

Ji Gewei cut him off, icy:

“That’s enough. Are the office forms done? I need them today. Bring them to my classroom during morning break.”

One moment, she’d gazed at Gu Chuan with spring-like warmth; the next, she chilled the newly promoted third-year Vice Minister Cheng with frosty authority.

Gu Chuan didn’t know him. Didn’t care.

But witnessing Ji Gewei’s shifting demeanor stirred a subtle feeling in him.

Cheng bit his lip, all resentment aimed solely at Gu Chuan—the stranger who’d done him no wrong. He glared like at a loathsome pest.

Gu Chuan lifted his eyes. A faint cold light glinted within.

In that instant, Cheng felt like prey locked onto by a falcon—doomed.

He shuddered.

When he blinked back to reality, Gu Chuan and Ji Gewei were already walking away.

From behind, Gu Chuan remained cool and silent, while Ji Gewei seemed to be making gentle conversation.

*Sigh… You never know how proactive your goddess can be for someone else.*

After escorting Ji Gewei to her classroom, Gu Chuan turned to leave.

“Gu Chuan,” she called. “It’s not too late to join the Student Council.”

“No interest.”

“At least think about your conduct score. I can help.”

“…We’ll see.”

He left without looking back. Around him, classrooms erupted in whispers.

“That’s him, right? Gu Chuan! The infamous playboy!”

“He dumped An Qianmeng just days ago…”

“*Campus beauty* An Qianmeng?!”

“I don’t recognize her. President Ji is the real campus flower!”

“Hmph. Your ‘flower’ just bid that playboy a tender farewell.”

Not everyone adored Ji Gewei. Some words carried hidden barbs.

“Are you blind? Anyone can see *Gu Chuan* shamelessly insisted on walking her here!”

“No wonder he’s a playboy. Even the president fell for his tricks.”

Supporters drowned out the critics. The story settled: *Gu Chuan’s relentless persistence had ensnared the president.*

Listeners wore scornful smirks—blaming his looks and thick skin, yet secretly whispering, *“If I tried, I could do it too.”*

Ji Gewei returned to her seat, gaze thoughtful. She opened a textbook, but her mind wandered.

Then, the girl in front turned around.

A mushroom-cut bob—the “honor student” stereotype. Yet on her lovely face, even that plain style looked perfect.

Zhu Ran. Eyes sparkling with gossip, she leaned in, seizing her front-row advantage.

Her first words surprised Ji Gewei:

“Gu Chuan is *seriously* handsome, wow!”

Ji Gewei paused, then understood.

Among boys, Gu Chuan’s reputation was trash—from seniors fearing he’d target their sisters to freshmen wary of his “newbie hunting.”

But girls? His popularity soared.

See his cool, handsome face, and innate favorability ticked up: +1, +1, +1…

They even believed the girls he’d “wronged”:

*“Gu Chuan isn’t a playboy. It’s just… I wasn’t good enough.”*

A quote from Lin Chourou, his first girlfriend—a literature club president who loved poetry. After their breakup, she’d vanished into red candles and ancient texts, silent toward all boys since.

“Handsome?” Ji Gewei echoed.

Unconsciously, her lips curved upward.

A quiet pride bloomed—*someone praising what I’ve always cherished*.

And a flicker of smugness:

*I’ve known how handsome he is for ages. No need for you to tell me.*