DLARLB CH15

Chapter 15: Close Stranger（A Familiar Stranger…）

Bai Yingchuan propped up his chin and looked out the window. He found Lin Lu quite amusing—always describing Jiang Ruotang like a starved jackal, pouncing on him at first sight, painting Jiang Ruotang as some obsessive fan with no sense of boundaries.

But in reality, Jiang Ruotang didn’t seem to have much interest in him at all. In fact, he was quite restrained.

After getting home, Bai Yingchuan searched the class group for Jiang Ruotang’s number and added him.

It wasn’t until after eleven at night that his friend request was accepted.

Bai Yingchuan: [Thanks for having Xiao Gao accompany me to the movie.]

Jiang Ruotang: [Smile.GIF I had a class in the studio and couldn’t leave. Xiao Gao happened to want to see the movie too, so I asked him to go. He’s experienced in handling emergencies and can keep you safe.]

Very polite, and that was all.

Bai Yingchuan clicked into Jiang Ruotang’s social profile. One of the things shared was a song called “Close Stranger”. The melody was slow, and the lyrics were deeply evocative. There were also some sketches and watercolor paintings Jiang Ruotang had uploaded—all from before Bai Yingchuan transferred to Beicheng Guangyao High School.

There was a kitten in a display window, wearing an adorable bell and squinting its eyes as it scratched itself with its front paw—just looking at it made one’s heart soften.

There were sparrows lined up on a utility pole, fluffy and cute.

There was a dewy morning glory flower that, under sunlight, looked like a child tilting up their face.

Bai Yingchuan didn’t know whether the art was considered “good” by any technical standard—he just felt they were peaceful and comforting.

The only watercolor painting showed a sailboat at sea, starlight spilling across the water. The tattered sail fluttered in the wind, as if the soul drifted across the ocean, returning with the breeze.

But flipping through all of them, Bai Yingchuan didn’t see a single painting of himself.

---

The next morning, Jiang Ruotang ran into Lin Lu below the teaching building. The two chatted casually as they walked upstairs.

“How was it watching a movie with Yingchuan yesterday?” Lin Lu poked Jiang Ruotang’s arm.

“Huh? I didn’t go,” Jiang Ruotang tilted his head. “What, didn’t Bai Yingchuan tell you?”

Lin Lu froze. “You didn’t go? Then why didn’t you say anything to me?”

“I replied ‘I’ll see what I can do,’ didn’t I?”

Lin Lu thought that since Jiang Ruotang hadn’t gone and Bai Yingchuan hadn’t mentioned anything about it last night, maybe Bai Yingchuan didn’t go either.

“I asked Xiao Gao to go and watch the movie. Afterward, he gave Bai Yingchuan a ride home.”

That left Lin Lu completely dumbfounded. “If you weren’t going, you could’ve just told me! How could you send Xiao Gao instead?”

“Why not? Didn’t you say your family had social obligations and you couldn’t make it? You also said the tickets were expensive and shouldn’t go to waste…” Jiang Ruotang looked genuinely puzzled.

“You can’t just have Yingchuan watch a movie with the driver! What would he think?”

What Lin Lu was really worried about was what Xiao Gao might’ve told Bai Yingchuan—something that could harm his image.

Before Jiang Ruotang could respond, Bai Yingchuan’s voice came from behind.

“Xiao Gao doesn’t talk much and takes good care of people. It was nice watching a movie with him.”

Lin Lu turned and saw Bai Yingchuan walking behind them, hands in his pockets. It was unclear how much of the conversation he’d overheard.

“I just thought you weren’t familiar with Xiao Gao and might feel awkward watching with him,” Lin Lu quickly found an excuse.

Bai Yingchuan gave a faint smile, unreadable in emotion.

Jiang Ruotang didn’t care and simply turned back around and continued walking. Bai Yingchuan tilted his head slightly, eyes trailing Jiang Ruotang’s back.

Jiang Ruotang wasn’t particularly tall, but proportionally, he had long legs. With his school uniform blazer buttoned, his waist looked quite slim.

There was something about that silhouette that stirred a subtle urge to protect, though at the same time, there was a quiet strength in his calm posture that unknowingly held Bai Yingchuan’s gaze.

“Yingchuan?” Lin Lu called.

“Let’s go. Time for class.”

At that moment, Bai Yingchuan’s mind drifted to Jiang Ruotang’s artwork. He wondered what Jiang Ruotang looked like when he was painting.

---

After entering the classroom and taking their seats, Lin Lu leaned over to Bai Yingchuan.

“Yingchuan, what’s that scent on you? It smells amazing!”

Bai Yingchuan glanced past Lin Lu and caught a glimpse of Jiang Ruotang, who was busy with his workbook, wrestling with the last few problems on a practice sheet—completely uninterested in their conversation.

“Forbidden Springwater.”

It was the cologne he had used yesterday, thinking he’d run into Jiang Ruotang. This morning, on impulse, he’d used it again.

But whether it was yesterday or today, Jiang Ruotang didn’t seem to care at all.

“Forbidden Springwater?” Lin Lu’s eyes lit up. “That’s the limited edition one, right? Not even available in China yet… Yours must’ve been gifted to your mom by the brand?”

“Mm,” Bai Yingchuan replied, already used to this kind of thing.

Though Guangyao was only a high school, many of its students came from wealthy families.

Designer bags, perfumes, skincare products—these were all familiar topics. And Lin Lu, as the son of an entertainment company CEO, was naturally well-versed in all of it.

“I love the slogan for Forbidden Springwater—‘The world is decayed and cold, but you are gentle like a spring.’”

From the back row, Geng Yu chimed in, “No wonder you’re the son of a movie queen. Even your scent stands out. Not like me—I don’t know the difference between perfumes and colognes. But our laundry detergent is imported from Y-country. My mom always says it smells classy.”

“Oh, I know that brand! It’s got a woody amber scent. My mom tried to buy it too, but it’s sold out everywhere.” Geng Yu’s desk mate joined in. “My mom’s really into F-brand perfumes lately. There’s this ‘wild camellia’ and ‘valley orchid’ or something…”

And just like that, the conversations in the rows before and behind Lin Lu shifted into a show-and-tell of home perfumes and laundry scents, as if not chiming in made your life seem low-class.

Bai Yingchuan didn’t join in. He didn’t care much about these things—whatever Bai Yue or his assistant brought him, he’d use if he liked it, and give it away if he didn’t.

Jiang Ruotang remained silent because none of it mattered to him. In fact, the whole “trying to sound luxurious” tone felt childish.

They’d understand once they were older: whether a scent is considered “classy” depends entirely on who’s wearing it.

If you’re someone of worth, even sulfur soap that costs one yuan would be seen as unique and different.

---

At that moment, Lu Guifan had already entered the classroom. He dropped his bag off and started collecting practice sheets from the back row forward.

When he reached Geng Yu’s desk, Geng Yu sneered. In his mind, someone like Lu Guifan, who relied on scholarships, didn’t belong in the same circle.

“Well, class rep, does your family light incense? White pine? Magnolia storm? Ah… You probably use handmade soap, right? Is that why your school uniform shrank?”

Jiang Ruotang’s brows furrowed. He really wanted to ask where Geng Yu got that inflated sense of superiority—was his brain waterlogged?

Maybe to make Lu Guifan back off, Geng Yu’s desk mate chimed in mockingly, “His family’s got a rubber factory. So of course their place smells like rubber!”

A vein throbbed on Jiang Ruotang’s forehead. Back when he lived his past life, the principal had called for an end to materialism and peer comparison at the morning assembly—but he hadn’t really felt it then. Now, hearing these two fools yammer on, he finally realized that Lu Guifan had endured verbal abuse and social exclusion all through high school.

Lu Guifan’s thick-rimmed glasses were clunky and old-fashioned, masking all expression.

School was its own small society, and these so-called rich kids used their lifestyle to draw lines in the sand. Lu Guifan didn’t care what they said—it had nothing to do with his life. What bothered him was how long they were taking to hand in their assignments.

“So, are you turning it in or not?” Lu Guifan asked.

Geng Yu leaned back and smirked. “Come search me! If you find it, it’s yours!”

“Either hand it in or say you’re not. What are you, a drama junkie with nowhere to perform? Playing the rich brat here?” Jiang Ruotang looked over, eyes cold.

Geng Yu was taken aback. If it were last semester, Jiang Ruotang would’ve joined in mocking Lu Guifan.

After all, no one wanted to come to class early in the morning only to deal with Lu Guifan’s unwavering homework collection—it made him an easy target for frustration.

Not just Geng Yu—Lin Lu was stunned too. He tugged Jiang Ruotang’s sleeve. “Ruotang, why so harsh? Geng Yu was just joking around.”

“Only if the person on the receiving end finds it funny.” Jiang Ruotang looked at Lu Guifan and raised his hand. “Class rep, I don’t get the first problem in math. Come explain it to me. Once I finish it, I’ll hand in the sheet.”

Lu Guifan studied Jiang Ruotang, as if assessing his sincerity. Jiang Ruotang’s eyes were like amber-glass beads—clear and bright, so honest it was hard to doubt him.

Two seconds later, Lu Guifan walked over and stopped at Jiang Ruotang’s desk. He took Jiang Ruotang’s pen with one hand and began writing on the scratch paper.

“This problem’s about the directrix of a parabola…”

Lu Guifan had assumed Jiang Ruotang was just trying to defuse the situation by calling him over. He didn’t expect Jiang Ruotang to tilt his head seriously and ask questions that proved he was genuinely thinking.

At first, Lu Guifan leaned casually on the desk, writing messy formulas. But as Jiang Ruotang’s questions deepened, he gradually bent over more, and his explanations became more structured and organized.

Watching Jiang Ruotang write the answer neatly onto the page, Lu Guifan felt his effort hadn’t gone to waste.

As for the stuff Geng Yu had said—white pine, magnolia storm—none of it mattered to Lu Guifan.

But when he lowered his head, he caught a whiff of the scent in Jiang Ruotang’s hair—a mix of mint and citrus, clean and slightly sweet.

When Jiang Ruotang focused, his short, thick eyelashes drooped. Every gentle flutter sent a faint tingle up Lu Guifan’s chest.