Rong Yu set down her backpack and took a seat.
Leaning back against the chair, she said, "Ji Zhouye, I don’t have time for your games. Spit it out—what do you want?"
"I’ve made it pretty obvious, haven’t I?" Ji Zhouye suddenly leaned forward, a smirk playing on his lips. "I’m chasing after you."
Rong Yu: "..."
She smiled sweetly. "If you’re sick, please go to the hospital."
"Cut the act," Ji Zhouye chuckled softly. "I know you’ve had a crush on me for ages. No need to be shy—"
Rong Yu: "..."
She grabbed a thick book and smacked him on the forehead.
Ji Zhouye winced in pain. "What was that for?!"
Rong Yu scoffed. "Can’t you tell? I’m helping you snap out of it. Stop acting crazy first thing in the morning."
"Wild Bro," Chen Nian whispered, "I don’t think Rong Yu seems like she’s secretly into you. Maybe there’s some misunderstanding?"
Ji Zhouye rubbed his forehead. "She’s just embarrassed. There’s a term for it—what was it again? 'Angry from shame.' Means when someone’s too shy, they get mad. Yeah, that’s what’s happening."
Chen Nian nodded. "Women get angry so easily."
A cold glare from Rong Yu finally silenced them.
After studying for a while, her phone buzzed in her pocket.
Her phone rarely had notifications, usually quiet.
She pulled it out and saw a message from Ji Zhiyuan, whom she’d added as a contact just days ago: "Miss Rong, you joined Ji's Entertainment’s talent show?"
Rong Yu replied, "Yes."
While waiting for a response, she absentmindedly opened her social feed. The first post was Ji Zhouye’s latest update—a photo of him reading, captioned: A new day starts with studying.
She was about to scroll past when she noticed Ji Zhiyuan had commented below: "Good progress."
Ji Zhouye replied: "Big Bro," followed by a grinning emoji.
Rong Yu’s finger froze.
She lifted her gaze, eyes locking onto Ji Zhouye’s face.
Chen Nian muttered under his breath, "Wild Bro, she’s staring at you. Guess she really does like you. You’ve got sharp instincts..."
Ji Zhouye immediately straightened up, tilting his chin to accentuate his jawline. He swept his hair back, showcasing what he believed to be his most attractive angle, and flashed a confident smile.
Rong Yu spoke up: "Hold still."
That profile—it was identical to Yingbao’s when he was little.
No wonder Ji Zhouye had always seemed familiar.
But—
The Ji family was known for generations of scholarly refinement, their innate grace and gentleness woven into their bones. Could someone like him really be a Ji descendant?
Rong Yu took a deep breath.
She raised her phone and snapped a photo.
Ji Zhouye smirked. "Planning to use my handsome face as your wallpaper, huh? Tsk, such a tsundere."
Rong Yu sent the photo to Ji Zhiyuan: "What’s your relationship?"
Ji Zhiyuan replied: "Miss Rong, you even know the Ji family’s core secrets. How is it you don’t know who he is to me?"
Rong Yu: "So, he’s also part of the Ji family?"
Ji Zhiyuan: "My younger brother."
Rong Yu’s mood turned complicated.
She set her phone down and couldn’t help stealing another glance at Ji Zhouye—pink-streaked hair, earrings, chains, skull-print shirt, ripped jeans, a desk stuffed with cigarettes, playing cards, snacks, and a gaming console...
What a blessing to have such a grandson in this lifetime.
"Still looking? Had your fill yet?" Ji Zhouye leaned his whole face closer.
Rong Yu pressed a hand against his face and shoved him aside. "Back off. You’re hurting my eyes."
She flipped open her math textbook and focused on studying.
By the time morning classes ended, Rong Yu had finally steadied her emotions.
She’d seen the news—Old Master Ji’s son and daughter-in-law had passed away over a decade ago. That meant this kid had grown up without parents. Given that, it made sense he’d turned out… like this.
She stood. "Let’s go to the cafeteria."
Might as well catch up on the Ji family’s affairs.
Chen Nian winked. "Wild Bro, we’ll go get things ready."
Ji Zhouye nodded.
He walked beside Rong Yu, the two heading to the cafeteria together.
The cafeteria was packed, with barely any empty seats. But who was Ji Zhouye? The school’s notorious troublemaker. He tapped a table lightly, and the occupants immediately grabbed their trays and scattered.
Ji Zhouye snapped his fingers. "Rong Yu, over here."
Just as Rong Yu was about to sit down—
Boom! Boom! Boom!
A shower of confetti exploded in the air.
Chen Nian rushed over, shoving a massive bouquet into Ji Zhouye’s arms.
Ji Zhouye raised the roses and announced loudly, "Rong Yu, I like you!"
The cafeteria fell dead silent.
Then erupted into chaos.
"Whoa, the school delinquent is confessing?!"
"I thought he was into the school belle, Rong Ruoyao? Did he switch targets?"
"No idea, but this is wild."
"..."
By the window, Rong Ruoyao sat with Song Huai.
She glanced at Rong Yu, lips curling slightly.
Both she and Rong Yu had inherited the Rong family’s features—large eyes, high noses, nearly identical face shapes.
If Ji Zhouye was confessing to Rong Yu… it was probably because Rong Yu looked like her.
Had he taken her request to "look after Rong Yu" this far?
How ridiculous.
"My dad’s counting on my sister to get into college after repeating a year. If she ends up with Ji Zhouye, he’ll just drag her down." Rong Ruoyao bit her lip. "Song Huai, she’s always listened to you. Maybe you could go over and—"
"Not my problem." Song Huai set down his chopsticks. "I’m heading back to class."
Rong Ruoyao smiled inwardly.
She’d known Song Huai had zero patience for Rong Yu.
A country girl like Rong Yu belonged with a delinquent like Ji Zhouye—married right after graduation, popping out kids, living a small, insignificant life.
She followed Song Huai out.
Under the crowd’s watchful eyes, Ji Zhouye pulled a crystal necklace from his pocket. "Rong Yu, I picked this just for you. Be my girlfriend?"
His lips curved triumphantly.
A public confession.
A rose spectacle.
A sparkling necklace.
There was no way she’d refuse.
And once she said yes, he’d reveal it was all a joke—making her the laughingstock of the entire school.
"Say yes!" Chen Nian and his lackeys chanted. "Rong Yu, just agree already!"
Instead, Rong Yu plucked four or five roses, crushed them into a ball, and stuffed them straight into Ji Zhouye’s mouth—shutting him up before he could spout more nonsense.
"Who do you think you are?!"
"Disrespectful little—!"
She hoisted the entire bouquet and slammed it onto Ji Zhouye’s head.
Ji Zhouye staggered, knees hitting the floor—right onto the fallen necklace. His face twisted in pain.
