The scene shifts to Su Tong.

It was already the next morning.

The early morning light was still dim. Rubbing his eyes, the boy struggled out of bed and left the cramped room piled high with books, heading for the bathroom.

Su Tong tugged at his hair in the mirror.

It was getting longer and longer. What had started as a buzz cut shaved close to his scalp now hung long enough to cover his eyes—and even reach his nose. If he didn't trim it soon, it might start getting in the way of everyday life.

But, sure enough, he still didn't want to cut it.

The boy simply turned on the tap, splashed his face with cold water, then braced himself against the sink and looked up.

And saw himself in the mirror.

His bangs were wet and stuck to his forehead. His cheeks were gaunt and sallow, the corners of his eyes drooped, and he looked utterly lifeless.

He looked like he was almost burned out.

“Just looking at you like this is enough to make anyone feel sorry for you, Su Tong.”

He muttered to himself, then, for some reason, let out a cold laugh. His eyes fell as he picked up his toothbrush, squeezed on some toothpaste, and started brushing.

And so, another dull, dreary day began.

◆

It was exactly seven in the morning. The sun was up. After washing, Su Tong took the food he'd prepared the night before out of the fridge to heat up, then turned away, poured himself a glass of water, grabbed a book from his room, and went to read on the balcony.

His collection was all over the place, with books of every kind: from *Strange Tales from a Chinese Studio* to *Zhiyin*, from *Postpartum Care for Sows* to the baffling *Understanding Nash Equilibrium in Game Theory*. They nearly filled his entire little room.

He liked reading.

Not because of some saying about how books held golden houses and beautiful women, but because reading let him forget reality.

He didn't want to face any of it anymore.

But there's a concept called Murphy's law: the more you don't want something to happen, the more likely it is to happen.

And so, the phone he'd left on the bed suddenly rang.

It wasn't a call. It was the unmistakable sound of a new message on QQ, the penguin app.

Being yanked out of the world of a book just as he'd gotten lost in it was incredibly annoying.

Su Tong closed his book. He barely had any friends on QQ who ever messaged him privately; he only had a few group chats that stayed open all the time. But group chats didn't make a sound for new messages. This long-unheard notification meant someone needed him to deal with something.

So he grabbed his phone, unlocked it, and saw the conspicuous @everyone in the chat list.

Fuck.

I opened QQ hoping to find something important that needed handling, not some dumbass tagging everyone!

Su Tong grumbled to himself. Then he saw it was the class group chat, which only made him more irritated.

He hated school.

The school's way of teaching didn't suit him. All he felt while studying was pain and misery, but he had to stay in school for his mother's sake... which made it even harder to bear.

He'd almost developed a physical aversion to it.

Still, he tapped on the group chat.

It was their homeroom teacher, that bald guy.

“Homeroom Teacher: Everyone's already in their senior year, and there's less than a year of classes left before the college entrance exams. So even during the break, while you're at home, make sure to review and preview your lessons and get fully prepared for the exams coming up, blah blah blah...”

“The same old routine.”

Su Tong grumbled.

Then he tapped out a quick “Got it” and sent it.

A routine reply, just as routine as the message itself. He was about to toss his phone on the bed and get back to reading.

But right after his reply, the ever-present homeroom teacher popped up again.

“Homeroom Teacher: One more thing.

Homeroom Teacher: Is Su Tong, the new transfer student in our class, here?”

Then a familiar ID suddenly appeared:

“Su Tong: I'm here, teacher. What is it?”

“Homeroom Teacher: So, the school checked the textbooks you'll need for class today and found that we're short a few.

Homeroom Teacher: The school ordered them based on the number of students we had at the time, so now that we're short, there's not much we can do. Sorry about that.”

“Su Tong: That's okay. Does the Xinhua Bookstore have them?”

“Homeroom Teacher: They do. I was just about to tell you. I'm afraid you'll have to get the textbooks yourself.”

“Su Tong: Okay, got it.”

The conversation came to an end.

Watching from the sidelines, Su Tong couldn't help the corner of his mouth twitching.

As expected of a girl from a wealthy family. Who knew how powerful her connections were? Last time, she'd called the principal directly, and she even brought a maid to school. Now he could see the homeroom teacher speaking to her with such deference.

Other people would probably think the homeroom teacher was just being kind. But Su Tong knew better.

He'd seen the girl's intimidating presence firsthand and knew a little about her background. To him, it all seemed shady.

Shady as hell!

But that had nothing to do with him.

Their names were almost identical, so they sounded like the same person. But she was a sheltered heiress who'd never put herself in harm's way, while he was just an ordinary person... no, he was worse than ordinary. There was no way they could have anything to do with each other.

That was true even though she'd invited him to dinner last time, and saved him the time before that.

That was just the compassion of a wealthy young woman, a sign of good character—the same impartial kindness as seeing a poor little puppy on the street and being unable to resist helping it.

Su Tong didn't need that kind of pity.

He got ready to go back to his book.

But the conversation that had just ended on his phone started up again:

“Homeroom Teacher: By the way, Su Tong, do you know which subjects' textbooks you need to buy? Or what kind of books to get?”

“Su Tong: I don't know.”

“Homeroom Teacher: That's a bit of a problem...

Homeroom Teacher: How about this? I'll have the class rep make a list of the textbooks you need and send it to you later. That'll make it easier for you to buy them. How does that sound?”

That's what you should've done from the start.

What a waste of time.

Su Tong grumbled about his homeroom teacher's inefficiency and forgetfulness, but felt relieved all the same. He finally put down his phone, picked up his book, and headed for the balcony.

But then, out of nowhere—

It was as if something had gone wrong with the way he took that step, because the QQ new-message alert erupted like a burst of noise.

“Ding ding ding ding ding ding—”

The chimes rang on and on, one after another.

Su Tong nearly threw his book down and cursed, “Why is there so much damn crap to deal with?” But he still set the book gently on his desk and picked up his phone.

It was Cao Bin.

“Your Son Cao Bin: Fuck you, Su Tong! When the hell did you start getting cozy with the transfer student?!

Your Son Cao Bin: No way, I'm so jealous!

Your Son Cao Bin: Come clean, now!

Your Son Cao Bin: Where are you? Where are you?!

Your Son Cao Bin: Fuck your mom, get out here right now!”

Su Tong frowned, completely confused.

Huh?

“What the hell?”

He typed.

“You're still playing innocent at a time like this?” Cao Bin replied, practically spitting fire. “You damn traitor! The evidence is right there in our class group chat!”

Huh?

Su Tong was even more baffled.

But his fingers had already acted before his brain caught up. He tapped into the group chat for the class next door.

And there, clear as day, was the message the girl had just sent.

“Su Tong: No need, teacher.

Su Tong: I just found out that I'm neighbors with Su Tong, who's in our class.

Su Tong: So you don't need to trouble the class rep. I'll just have Su Tong come with me to buy the books.”

Then came six dots from the homeroom teacher, followed by the final verdict:

“Homeroom Teacher: ...

Homeroom Teacher: That works out perfectly. What a coincidence, though.

Homeroom Teacher: Ha ha, fate works in mysterious ways.”

Homeroom Teacher: [Smile]”

For the first time in his life, Su Tong found that smiley face unbearably glaring.

[To be continued]