Chapter One

Xie Xishu wanted to tell Qi Wu, “Stop staring at me.”

But he didn’t dare.

Because he felt as if Qi Wu had gone mad.

================

The first time Xie Xishu and Qi Wu crossed paths, City A’s weather forecast issued a heat warning. That afternoon, the second period for Senior Year Class 1 at Nanming No. 3 High School was scheduled as PE.

Had Xie Xishu attended a proper school, one with at least a modicum of ambition regarding university admissions, PE for seniors would likely have been replaced by Chinese, Math, or English—or at the very least, no teacher would be foolish enough to let the PE instructor actually teach the class.

But Xie Xishu was at Nanming No. 3.

The city’s universally acknowledged worst public high school, infamous as a cradle for future factory workers or the unemployed; even decent vocational schools had learning environments that far surpassed Nanming No. 3.

So not a single teacher was interested in commandeering the PE period—not even the PE teacher himself.

This meant that, for Nanming No. 3’s students, PE was simply a legitimate excuse for wandering aimlessly around the campus. Only, the heat that day was so oppressive most opted to remain in the classroom, chatting, playing cards, gaming, rather than loitering outside.

Though, truth be told, even when teachers were present, these self-exiled students rarely paid any attention in class. But without the teacher’s suppression, the noise in Class A reached the levels of a bustling marketplace.

Xie Xishu sat in the classroom, his brows furrowing ever tighter.

It was too loud.

He pressed his lips together, trying desperately to focus on the test paper in front of him. Before he could even write a single answer, someone beside him suddenly bumped into his desk. The person’s cola spilled across Xie Xishu’s desk, drenching his test papers and reference books in sticky brown.

His desk was a mess in an instant, but the culprit seemed utterly unconcerned, continuing to laugh and banter with his friends, only later turning his head with feigned realization to glance in Xie Xishu’s direction.

The boy sitting there kept his head down, wiping the desk with tissues. Even faced with this sudden “misfortune,” his expression remained cold and indifferent.

He was the only one in the class still wearing the school uniform, every button from the collar to the cuffs done up neat and proper. The wrist protruding from his sleeve was pale and slender, knuckles marked with the calluses of years spent writing. Though he sat silently at his desk, only Xie Xishu’s space still bore test papers and textbooks amidst the chaos. The sight of the lone student diligently studying amid the uproar made him stand out, almost painfully so.

“Oh wow, I guess I’ve disturbed our class ‘top scholar’ from his studies.”

The boy met Xie Xishu’s expressionless face, paused, then lazily curled his lips and spoke.

“With all this effort, why’d you end up at our school, ‘top scholar’? Isn’t it tiring pretending here?”

As his words fell, Xie Xishu’s pupils contracted ever so slightly, the fingers gripping his pen whitening with the force.

“You—”

Just then, a muffled voice sounded from beside him.

“Chen Bie, why are you yapping so much after bumping someone’s desk? You even woke me up! It’s noisy enough here, I finally managed to sleep—seriously, get lost!”

Xie Xishu’s deskmate, who’d been napping with his head on the desk, yawned and muttered, half joking and half complaining.

---

“Tsk, Cheng An, why don’t you just book a hotel room and sleep there? Every day we just see you napping here...”

Xie Xishu’s deskmate, Cheng An, was also something of an oddity at Nanming No. 3.

Rumor had it Cheng An’s family was both wealthy and powerful; by rights, he shouldn’t have ended up at Nanming No. 3. But the story went that Cheng An had once cracked someone’s head open at an international school, and since the other family had some influence, Cheng An had to transfer here to lay low.

Perhaps due to his background, Cheng An rarely interacted with others at school, spending most of his time sleeping at his desk. The teachers, recognizing this, made him Xie Xishu’s regular deskmate.

Even if Cheng An seldom mingled with the Nanming crowd, most of the boys in class had heard the rumors and treated him with a degree of respect.

The boy surnamed Chen was no exception. He shot a sinister glare at Xie Xishu, muttered a few words, and finally turned to leave.

Xie Xishu watched his departing figure in silence, then returned his gaze to the desk.

A small mountain of damp tissues had accumulated in one corner; the desk itself was clean, but the soaked reference books and papers were beyond saving.

He pressed his lips tight, slammed the wet reference book into the drawer, pulled out another test paper and spread it on the desk, yet for a long while did not write a thing.

Cheng An yawned again and leaned closer to Xie Xishu: “Don’t mind that guy, he’s just annoying. Ignore him. But he always sticks to Qi Wu’s crowd—if you get into it with him and Qi Wu gets involved, things might escalate... By the way, did you finish your homework? Lend it to me.”

Xie Xishu replied with a soft “Mm,” handed over his homework, and began packing up his things.

“Huh? Scholar, where are you going?!”

Cheng An was startled by Xie Xishu’s actions and asked instinctively.

Xie Xishu looked back at the only person in class he could talk to and answered calmly, “It’s too noisy here. I have a headache. I’m going for a walk.”

*

Xie Xishu wasn’t brushing Cheng An off.

He truly did have a headache. City A was in the throes of a flu outbreak, and Xie Xishu had no doubt he’d caught it—his temperature had hovered at low-grade fever for two days. Fortunately, he was used to the discomfort after years of this, so he showed no signs at school. But the noise today was unbearable, and after Chen Bie’s little incident, the irritation in his chest became impossible to suppress, so he left the classroom for some air.

Passing a few empty desks at the back of the room, Xie Xishu glanced over instinctively.

The class was in chaos; desks and chairs were scattered for card games and video battles. Yet those few vacant desks were arranged perfectly, the floor spotless, not even a stray sunflower seed shell.

As if an invisible barrier existed there, something strange and out of place.

Oh, right—that was Qi Wu’s spot, Xie Xishu realized after a brief moment of confusion.

*

Qi Wu’s seat was always in the very last row.

Partly because he was tall—seventeen, eighteen years old, already over six feet three, and not the gangly sort but powerfully built, all muscle and strength; in any other seat, he’d be as conspicuous as a wall.

But mostly because Qi Wu was, not just at school but throughout City A, notorious as a troublemaker. Placing him at the back meant teachers wouldn’t have to fret over his antics so much.

---

People would later whisper that Qi Wu’s family had been crooked for generations. Count back three, four generations and there was hardly a man who’d walked the straight path; ruthless and cunning, they’d carved out a sizable empire, infamous in City A.

“Listen, that guy’s definitely bound for jail someday. You’re a good student—never get involved with someone like that...”

Seeing Xie Xishu and Qi Wu in the same class, someone had warned him with utmost caution.

Xie Xishu agreed at the time but didn’t take it too seriously.

After all, Qi Wu spent more days outside as a street thug than in school, always surrounded by his gang, fighting and causing trouble.

As for Xie Xishu, he ended up at Nanming No. 3 purely because of his cursed constitution.

He was prone to nerves.

To put it more gently: he simply couldn’t handle pressure. Whenever something major happened—like entrance exams—Xie Xishu would come down with a high fever.

He’d repeated a grade twice, and his exam results remained abysmal.

His parents, both highly educated researchers at prestigious institutions, were proud and ambitious—yet saddled with Xie Xishu’s exam scores, they could no longer hold their heads up among friends or relatives.

The result: Xie Xishu, the greatest disappointment of their lives, landed at Nanming No. 3 due to some clerical mishap. His parents made no effort to rescue him, essentially leaving him to fend for himself, out of sight and out of mind.

But Xie Xishu excelled academically when not facing major exams—so much so that even at such a school, he enjoyed a subtle yet unmistakable privilege.

Moreover, he was not one to stand out; his quiet diligence made him seem like oil in water—utterly out of place—but he’d transferred for so long without encountering any real trouble.

At worst, he was subject to a few jibes from petty thugs like Chen Bie.

Nothing more.

Cheng An’s warning was somewhat superfluous; Xie Xishu never intended to concern himself with such people. In the end, he and this crowd simply lived in different worlds.

Since they weren’t of the same world, he’d never waste energy worrying about them.

*

Leaving the classroom, Xie Xishu stepped into the blinding heat, wandering the campus with unfamiliar steps.

He found, rather helplessly, that though the campus was unusually quiet under the blazing sun, every shady spot was already occupied.

But at that moment, Xie Xishu couldn’t bear the thought of returning to the chaotic classroom, so he kept searching. Luckily, his fortune held, and near the school library, he discovered a rare haven: a small garden.

Backed by the library’s imposing building, flanked by century-old trees transplanted at great expense, shaded overhead by thick, lush vines, and before him a sprawling thicket of verdant roses.