Finally, the day of school started. Everyone was undoubtedly excited when they first arrived on campus.
But after a few classes, coupled with the incessant chirping of cicadas in the trees outside, some students’ eyelids slowly began to droop.
Ji Chuān didn’t like school, but Ji Zhaoxi did—because at school, she could still make a decent amount of money.
“Bang—”
On the rooftop, the door slammed shut, and Ji Zhaoxi was pressed against the wall.
A girl screamed at her: “I texted you asking to copy your homework, and you said no? I’m really pissed off!”
Ji Zhaoxi mumbled quietly: “I was afraid if I wrote something wrong, you’d blame me.”
The girl grew even angrier: “So what if I blame you? I’ll say it if I want to! Blame you, blame you!”
“You look all meek and obedient, but you actually love money the most, don’t you? Answer me!”
Ji Zhaoxi’s head drooped lower. “Yes…”
The girl sneered: “Then why wouldn’t you let me copy your homework? Such a good deal, and you turned it down—so now you have dignity, huh?!”
“I told you to stay away from the class monitor, but you got so close to him. Do you like him or something?”
Ji Zhaoxi stayed silent, her head bowed.
Seeing Ji Zhaoxi like this, the girl got more and more excited as she yelled, until her voice went hoarse and she couldn’t even speak—only managing a raspy whisper.
The girl took a sip of water and tried to talk: “Ji Zhaoxi… ahem…”
Forget it, her voice really was gone.
“How many times did I yell at you just now?” the girl asked.
Ji Zhaoxi’s eyes lit up. “Six times.”
The girl, still raspy, transferred her the money.
Ji Zhaoxi had figured out early on that this girl didn’t like her, so she’d approached her first. In the girl’s stunned expression, she’d offered that she could take out her frustrations on her—but for a fee.
At first, the girl thought Ji Zhaoxi was messing with her, but she’d resented Ji Zhaoxi for a long time anyway.
So when Ji Zhaoxi came to her a second time and asked if she wanted to sign up for the service, the girl agreed.
After starting the arrangement, the girl realized Ji Zhaoxi was totally professional. She knew exactly what facial expressions would satisfy her—the girl loved seeing Ji Zhaoxi look angry but unable to fight back!
So Ji Zhaoxi always wore that exact expression for her.
Zhou Chiye was lying on his back in a corner of the rooftop, arms folded behind his head. The wind carried the mingled sounds of the girl’s scolding and low apologies.
A clatter of footsteps faded away, the door banged shut, and the world fell silent again.
Zhou Chiye didn’t like weak people, especially those who wouldn’t fight back.
But what he didn’t quite get was: if she had the guts to pull a stunt like that, why didn’t she have the guts to stand up for herself?
Sunlight flooded the sports ground. In the camphor trees by the field, the cicadas never stopped chirping, and a warm, sticky, humid wind blew through.
Zhou Chiye leaped into the air, his fingertips hooking onto the rim of the basketball hoop, sending a tremble through the net. Teammates rushed over noisily. He caught the ball with one hand and bumped shoulders hard with one of them.
He grabbed a bottle of ice water, twisted the cap off casually, and tilted his head back to drink. Droplets traced his jawline and disappeared into the neckline of his tank top as cheers erupted around him.
A guy watched the scene in silence and said, “Why is it that when I used to drink water like that, people told me not to—they said it looked sloppy?”
The guy holding the basketball gave him a pitying look. “It’s because of how you look.”
When a good-looking person drinks like that, it’s full of intensity. When an average-looking person drinks like that, it’s sloppy—and doing all those extra moves just for a sip of water is just embarrassing.
After playing basketball, Zhou Chiye was about to leave when he ran into Ji Zhaoxi again.
A guy and a girl, both wearing glasses, were excitedly saying something to her and poking her shoulder repeatedly. Ji Zhaoxi just let them poke her, stepping back a few paces, then stepping forward again to make it easier for them.
Zhou Chiye: …
He’d never met anyone so spineless in his life.
“Brother Ye, leaving already?”
Zhou Chiye grunted impatiently in reply.
As he passed Ji Zhaoxi, he finally got a clear look at her face—head down, clutching the hem of her shirt, her eyes reddened.
Zhou Chiye clicked his tongue in annoyance and cut right through between them, even bumping the guy with glasses hard on the shoulder.
Bullying a woman—what kind of skill is that?
The guys following Zhou Chiye had no idea what was going on, but they bumped the guy too, each one giving him an apologetic smile as they passed.
Ji Zhaoxi and the girl with glasses stared, completely baffled.
The guy who’d been shoved for no reason was also confused: ?
There was plenty of space on either side—why did they have to walk right through them?
Seeing her customer annoyed, Ji Zhaoxi quickly tried to soothe her.
“Don’t mind them. Guys good at sports usually have simple brains.”
The guys walking ahead heard every word clearly.
They wanted to argue, but they honestly had no idea why they’d bumped that guy either. They shot Zhou Chiye inquisitive looks.
But Zhou Chiye’s expression was awful.
“Brother Ye, that girl just called you simple-minded,” a guy helpfully reminded him.
Zhou Chiye’s face darkened even more. Everyone else wisely shut up.
Even Brother Ye, being called stupid, wasn’t going to take it well.
Zhou Chiye sneered to himself. He finally tried to do a good deed, and this was the thanks he got.
Might as well just stick to being a heartless jerk!
But that afternoon, Zhou Chiye spotted Ji Zhaoxi again—this time at the school swimming pool.
He frowned hard. Was she doing this on purpose?
First the “accidental” collision, then the racetrack, then the sports field, and now the pool.
The more he thought about it, the worse his expression became. He’d assumed she was after his money, but apparently she was after him instead.
Then, the next second—
“Ji Zhaoxi, go buy us some water. Here’s the tip for the errand.” A girl climbed out of the pool, exhausted, and stood in front of Ji Zhaoxi.
Ji Zhaoxi nodded instantly and darted off faster than anyone.
Zhou Chiye watched her sprint past him. …
He coughed softly, looking down. Okay, maybe he’d imagined things.
Actually, Zhou Chiye hadn’t imagined anything.
Ji Zhaoxi really was there for him. Her mission was to squeeze money out of him until he noticed and grew to detest her.
But every time she saw his dark expression, she got scared, so she could only lurk vaguely around him.
Zhou Chiye didn’t have any energy for swimming that day. He kept feeling like someone was spying on him—and the gaze was intense.
But every time he looked toward where he sensed it, he only saw Ji Zhaoxi, quietly and earnestly reading a book. No one else.
Frowning, he stared at her. What kind of person reads a book at a swimming pool?
She’d be better off doing some exercise. One finger from someone else and she’d stumble backward.
Remembering that she’d called him simple-minded, Zhou Chiye let out a cold laugh.
A bookworm who couldn’t even handle athletics.
When Zhou Chiye laughed, a guy nearby who’d been swimming suddenly froze stiff.
He snuck a look at Zhou Chiye, fell silent for a moment, then quietly paddled over to another lane.
“Just because you’re rich doesn’t mean this pool is yours alone,” the guy muttered under his breath.
