6:10 a.m.
Lu Yu hadn’t set his alarm for this time in ages.
His usual wake-up call was 7:30 a.m.—brush teeth, rush out, and make it to school in exactly ten minutes.
If he needed a shower, he’d wake up ten minutes earlier.
But today was Monday. Flag-raising ceremony and morning assembly required arriving half an hour early. And thanks to Lin Beixing’s insistence, he’d woken up *another* thirty minutes sooner.
Towel slung over his shoulder, he headed to the bathroom.
Come to think of it… his body didn’t smell bad at all.
Had the class monitor—who’d threatened not to let him shower—actually bathed herself?
As Lu Yu lathered up with shower gel, his thoughts drifted.
He decided not to ask Lin Beixing.
She was a girl, after all. Shyness was normal. Asking would just make things awkward for both.
After showering, changing clothes, and refilling Mei Qiu’s cat food bowl, Lu Yu left early.
The sky was still pitch black.
On the way to school, he bought a steamed bun and a cold bottle of water. A carton of milk from his mom was tucked in his pocket.
At checkout, he stared at his WeChat balance and froze.
Way too much money… Over two hundred yuan had appeared.
Must be leftovers from the five hundred Lin Beixing transferred two days ago.
No wonder they called her a rich girl. Five hundred yuan could keep Lu Yu comfortable for weeks—but for her, it barely lasted two days.
At Jiangshui No.1 High School’s gate, only half the entrance was open.
Dawn’s faint glow hung in the sky like a smudge of unmixed gold paint.
The chilly morning was nearly empty. No familiar black sedan by the curb.
Inside the guard booth, an uncle steeped hot tea. Lu Yu slung his backpack over one shoulder and slipped into class.
Though the halls felt deserted, a third of his classmates were already seated.
It was senior year’s final semester. Under Lin Beixing—the class’s ultimate study maniac—the whole room hummed with quiet diligence.
Silence reigned. Only the soft scratch of pens on paper filled the air.
Lu Yu entered quietly. His eyes swept the room and landed on Lin Beixing, seated center.
“…Huh?”
A puzzled voice shattered the calm.
Someone had spotted him. In an instant, over a dozen eyes swiveled toward Lu Yu.
Everyone was stunned. *Lu Yu?* The chronic latecomer? Arriving *early*—by half an hour?
Rarer than the sun rising in the west.
A few students actually glanced toward the horizon.
Lu Yu ignored the stares, slid into his seat, and pulled out his chair.
Three exercise books sat neatly stacked on his desk: math, physics, chemistry.
He flipped the first page. The cover bore three precise characters: *Lin Beixing*.
Her homework. Left here for one reason only—*copy it*.
He glanced up.
Lin Beixing was already looking back.
Today she wore a light blue skirt, a lavender short-sleeve top, and a matching purple bow tie. Her high ponytail was secured with a red ribbon. Youth radiated from every detail.
She pointed to her desk, then shot him a fierce glare.
…Just as expected.
Like a tiny kitten trying to look tough.
Lu Yu sucked in a breath.
Fine. Copying homework was nothing compared to last weekend’s hell.
And who knew if their bodies would swap again? Memorizing a formula or two might save him from her tutor later.
He and Lin Beixing were truly in the same boat now.
“Hm…?”
He rummaged through his backpack—small pockets, main compartment, even the tight inner lining.
No pen.
His setup wasn’t as pathetic as his deskmate’s (who wrote with a single refill), but Lu Yu hadn’t used a pencil case since elementary school. Pens just… vanished into the void of his bag.
He *knew* he’d stuffed them in Friday. They should’ve been here.
“Ugh…” He frowned.
Lin Beixing must’ve taken them while using his body. And he’d left this morning without checking.
He stared at the half-used eraser in his palm. Silent.
He stood, walked down the aisle, and stopped beside Lin Beixing’s desk.
“Monitor Lin.”
His sudden appearance made her flinch mid-recitation. Her petite frame trembled—like a startled rabbit.
“…Can I borrow a pen?”
Lu Yu had almost no friends. Only Ren Jie slacked off with him. Lin Beixing was the sole person he could talk to normally.
Dozens of eyes locked onto them again.
Lin Beixing stayed focused on her book, voice tight:
“…You came to school without a pen, Classmate Lu Yu?”
“Nah,” he scratched his head. “My cat dug my pens out to play. Forgot to pack them.”
Her grip on her pen tightened.
*Who’s the cat?!*
She opened her pencil case with deliberate calm. “Take one.”
“Thanks.”
Lu Yu snatched the pink gel pen with bunny ears and returned to his seat, copying with quiet satisfaction.
“No way… Is Lu Yu *actually* doing homework?”
Whispers rippled through the room. Lu Yu didn’t care.
His hand flew—ABCD choices filled in seconds, then complex problems.
Lin Beixing’s handwriting was flawless printed font: crisp strokes, perfect spacing. Copying felt effortless.
“Huh? Bro Lu, what’re you doing?!”
Ten minutes till assembly. Ren Jie scrambled into his seat, dumping textbooks and exercise books onto his desk.
“Done for! I didn’t do *any* homework—can I still copy?!”
Unlike Lu Yu, Ren Jie faked effort to avoid parental scolding.
But seeing Lu Yu *writing* froze him mid-panic.
“Whoa?! Bro Lu, are you okay?!”
Ren Jie nearly pressed his face to the page. Ignoring the bunny-eared pen, his eyes locked on the exercise book under Lu Yu’s hand.
He knew that handwriting. The Chinese teacher often projected it as “model script.”
“You scored *Monitor Lin’s* homework to copy, Bro Lu?!” he shrieked. “Let me copy too!”
Lu Yu had three books. Ren Jie figured one was fair.
But the moment Ren Jie reached, Lu Yu slammed a hand over the cover.
“Copy mine later.”
“Why?! I want the *monitor’s*!”
For a slacker like Ren Jie, copying the top student’s work was a dream.
His usually generous Bro Lu suddenly seemed stingy.
Lu Yu stuffed two books into his desk drawer, left one visible, and pinned it firmly under his palm.
“Finish this first. Then it’s yours.”
“My God!!!!”
Ren Jie groaned, but time was short. He slumped down and began frantically copying Lu Yu’s wildly scrawled answers.
