“We’re rich, Xiao Mi!”
Lin Beixing lay on the bed, phone held high in both hands.
She sent two emojis to Lu Yu. No reply—probably already in class.
She genuinely worried about him.
But worry was all she could do. So far apart, she was powerless to help.
So she went with the flow, scooping up the little black cat beside her. She even nicknamed the temporarily nameless feline “Xiao Mi.”
“Time to go eat!”
“Oh right~ Cats love fish. What kind would you like, Xiao Mi?”
“Meow?”
The cat couldn’t understand human speech. It just sensed its owner was unusually clingy today—constantly hugging it. In this sweltering heat? The cat radiated pure disdain.
Its tiny black paws pressed firmly against Lin Beixing’s face, blocking any attempt at a kiss.
Lin Beixing’s mind drifted to breakfast plans.
She’d treat herself well, then nap.
She recalled passing many shops on her last walk from school to Lu Yu’s place.
But most were dingy hole-in-the-wall joints. If possible, she wanted something clean.
Her stomach couldn’t handle questionable food…
“Ah!!”
Her eyes lit up.
“I *am* ‘Lu Yu’ now…”
She stared at this strong, robust body that was suddenly “hers.” A realization dawned.
“With Lu Yu’s body… I can eat anything, right?”
Her eyes sparkled with unprecedented excitement.
“Fried chicken! Cola! Giant ice cubes!!”
Thrilled, she sat bolt upright. Sensing her owner had short-circuited, the cat let out a panicked “meow” and scrambled free.
Lin Beixing slipped on Lu Yu’s sneakers. Before leaving, she glanced at herself in the wardrobe mirror.
She’d always cared about her appearance. Studying the reflection: messy hair, slightly wrinkled clothes… but not shabby.
Her bestie was right—Lu Yu’s face was genuinely easy on the eyes…
She’d change into clean clothes if she could.
But this was *Lu Yu’s* body. She had no idea where to start.
Using it for basic needs (like the bathroom) was already her limit.
Add changing or showering? Her brain would definitely short-circuit.
“Out! For fried chicken!”
She waved at the cat by the door.
“Bye-bye, Xiao Mi~”
“Meow.”
Accompanied by the lazy meow, the door creaked shut.
...
In the quiet study, Lu Yu focused on the textbook, following Lin Beixing’s method.
Cool air whooshed from the AC. The tutor beside him watched in silence.
At first, Lu Yu felt like he was sitting on pins and needles. But after enduring the stare long enough, he stopped caring.
The tutor shot him another glance.
Lu Yu feigned concentration: pen in one hand, the other flat on the desk, back straight, feet planted, chest a fist’s width from the surface.
Thankfully, the original Lu Yu had once studied hard. He knew exactly how a diligent student should sit—and how to mimic it.
Faking focus came easily.
Before him lay a thick exercise book. From the pile, he’d chosen the easiest to slack off with: *Chinese Reading Comprehension*.
No heavy thinking required—just skim the short passage. If questioned, he could probably bluff a decent answer. He had baseline knowledge; back then he’d never even glanced at problems, but this was different. For reading comp? Follow the logic, wing it. Should be fine.
“Finished?”
The tutor had waited long enough. Seeing him look up, she assumed he was done.
“Yes, teacher.”
Lu Yu nodded, setting his pen down gently.
The passage was only a few hundred words. Lingering too long would raise suspicion.
He still didn’t know the tutor’s surname. Lin Beixing hadn’t said; her mom hadn’t mentioned it.
Judging by her appearance—wrinkled fingers, neatly trimmed nails—probably a retired teacher?
She tapped the book with a finger.
“Draw a vertical line splitting this paragraph into two parts. Explain each.”
Verbal answers? No problem. Handwriting differences? That was the real risk. Writing was out of the question.
Lu Yu drew the line decisively, then analyzed aloud: first part as setup, second as core message.
It had been ages since he’d focused this hard. The tutor watched his eyes, then gave a slow nod.
Her expression said: *You passed.*
But before relief could settle, the tutor sat straighter, sharp eyes locked on his face.
“Tired?”
Lu Yu froze.
He’d calculated everything—except how utterly exhausted Lin Beixing’s body was.
No matter how hard he tried to perk up, the fatigue in his eyes was undeniable.
“A little…” he admitted softly.
Denial was useless. Weariness had seeped deep into her bones.
Despite his effort to embody Lin Beixing perfectly, every attempt crumbled under the tutor’s gaze.
Her stare felt like an interrogation.
“At your age, you must push hard. Grit your teeth—it’ll pass.”
Her tone was solemn, lecturing from a pedestal of certainty.
*Here we go again.*
Lu Yu offered a bitter smile.
How much toxic “motivation” had he swallowed already?
Dazed by exhaustion, he blurted out:
“Teacher… do you think I’m happy right now?”
The tutor’s shrewd eyes flickered with surprise. A cold laugh escaped her.
“Whether you’re happy? I don’t know. But this I know: if you don’t work hard now, you’ll regret it later.”
She’d never seen Lin Beixing talk back. In under a year, she’d known her as quiet, relentless.
This defiance? Uncharacteristic.
…A delayed rebellious phase?
“You push now to earn more choices later. Never slack off—or you’ll lose even the chance to regret.”
*Future, future… always the future.*
How many truly possible futures does life hold?
Lu Yu admitted studying might be a shortcut. But never the *only* path.
Certainly not worth sacrificing a young, vibrant life for.
His jaw tightened. The hand gripping the pen trembled slightly.
He swallowed the anger. Suppressed the urge to rebel.
The tutor ignored his turmoil. She flipped the page, pointed at the dense text.
“Next question.”
