Chapter 6 – Reunion with Bai Yingchuan

“Oh no, oh no, Four Eyes is here…”

“Oh no, oh no, Four Eyes is here… and I haven’t finished copying yet!”

“That guy doesn’t even need to copy the test paper. Would being ten minutes late really threaten his top rank in the grade?”

“It’s really true what they say—‘For one general’s success, ten thousand bones must dry.’”

Hearing this, Jiang Ruotang turned around in confusion. He had almost forgotten—Zhao Changfeng, who sat behind him in senior year of high school, was saying this!

This guy was never cut out for studying. The summer homework sheets looked brand new. He hadn’t copied anything last night, and now he was furiously scribbling like crazy. Forget about giving him ten more minutes—even an extra day wouldn’t be enough to save him.

“Why is it ‘for one general’s success, ten thousand bones must dry’?” Jiang Ruotang suspected Zhao Changfeng was misusing idioms again.

“Lu Guifan is that ‘general’ who wants to impress the teacher. We’re just the dry bones beneath his feet!” Zhao Changfeng muttered while working like an assembly-line robot, not even realizing he was speaking to Jiang Ruotang. Normally, the two of them would clash like Mars hitting Earth, trading insults until the class bell rang.

In Zhao Changfeng’s mind, his mom, Zhao Yunshu, was like Bai Suzhen (the White Snake), Jiang Huaiyuan was the useless but kind Xu Xian, and Jiang Ruotang? The meddling monk Fahai, always suspecting Zhao Yunshu of trying to harm their family—what a nutjob!

At that moment, Lu Guifan set down his backpack and really started collecting summer homework from back to front.

“Summer homework.”

“…Give me a minute. Take others’ first!”

“Homework.”

“I just need a bit more time! I promise I’ll give it to you soon!”

“Homework.”

“Oh come on, class rep! Be a little flexible—come back for mine later!”

…

Lu Guifan moved up the rows but collected only a few sheets—some students, even if they’d finished theirs, had let others copy from them.

When he reached behind Zhao Changfeng’s seat, the latter immediately said, “Haven’t finished yet! The more you rush me, the slower I go!”

Lu Guifan leaned one hand on Zhao Changfeng’s desk and said in a low voice, “You copied the wrong question.”

His cool tone, with its distant quality, was completely different from how he sounded ten years later—missing the tenderness and patience Jiang Ruotang remembered so well.

“What—” This idiot Zhao Changfeng had copied the second page’s problem onto the third page. Who messes up even when copying? Truly one of a kind.

While Zhao Changfeng was pulling at his hair in frustration, Jiang Ruotang tilted his head back. From this angle, he could just make out Lu Guifan’s eyes behind his glasses.

Deep-set sockets, delicate corners, and eyelashes so long they seemed to brush against the lenses.

It was a beauty no one else had ever noticed—only Jiang Ruotang knew.

Lu Guifan stepped forward again, not looking at Jiang Ruotang. Instead, he asked Lin Lu, “How about you? Turning it in?”

“Later. Mine’s being used for reference,” Lin Lu replied with a grin.

“Okay.” Lu Guifan moved on.

For some reason, Jiang Ruotang didn’t want to see his back. Maybe it was because he looked too thin. Or maybe it was because every time Jiang Ruotang had watched Lu Guifan’s back leaving the hospital room, he’d begin to miss him—waiting for the next visit.

“Class rep, I don’t understand these problems. Why don’t you teach me?” Jiang Ruotang suddenly spoke up.

His voice was clear and bright. Lu Guifan stopped and turned to look at him.

His glasses were thick and old. Jiang Ruotang couldn’t make out the look in his eyes.

Under the desk, Lin Lu tugged at Jiang Ruotang several times, signaling him to stop provoking Lu Guifan.

But Jiang Ruotang didn’t look away.

In his previous life, when Jiang Ruotang lay in the hospital reminiscing with Lu Guifan about their school days, he had teased him for being stingy—for never letting anyone copy his homework. Their classmates used to call him “Four-Eyes Iron Rooster” (someone who won’t share a thing).

Lu Guifan had smiled faintly and explained that, back then, he had a very rigid sense of right and wrong. He believed that letting others copy would give them shortcuts but not understanding, which wouldn’t help them in the long run. But if someone asked him for help, he’d never ignore them.

So Lu Guifan, I’m asking you now.

Will you come back to me?

The classroom went silent. Even Zhao Changfeng stopped writing and looked up in surprise, thinking: Is this guy going crazy on the first day of school? If he’s actually serious about studying, I’ll eat poop upside down.

Lu Guifan walked back, every step syncing with the rhythm of Jiang Ruotang’s heartbeat.

He picked up the paper Jiang Ruotang had laid out.

The multiple-choice math questions were hit or miss. Some formulas were jotted down, with textbook page numbers noted beside certain concepts. The long-answer questions were mostly unfinished. Some answers were nonsense, but others—though a bit messy—did hit the key points.

Lu Guifan let out a quiet breath. This paper truly embodied the phrase: “The sea of learning has no end; turn back while you still can.”

But he was surprised—these answers were genuine.

He lowered his gaze, while Jiang Ruotang looked up at him with light amber eyes, no longer filled with reckless defiance, but earnestly searching for something—perhaps a sign of acknowledgment.

“You don’t understand too much. I can only teach you one basic question with the time we have,” Lu Guifan said.

“Sure! You can’t become fat in one bite anyway!” Jiang Ruotang replied cheerfully.

He was about to move a chair over, but Lu Guifan just stood beside him, leaned down, took a piece of scrap paper, and began writing with his pen.

As Lu Guifan’s shadow fell across Jiang Ruotang, the whole world seemed split in two. In that small space, he could smell Lu Guifan’s clean, refreshing scent—the same one he’d inhaled years ago, clinging to his shoulder on a snowy night.

Lu Guifan seemed to know exactly where Jiang Ruotang was struggling. The scrap paper quickly filled up. Jiang Ruotang scrambled to keep up with his logic, barely managing to follow and arrive at the answer.

When he finished explaining, Lu Guifan was about to take the paper back, but Jiang Ruotang pressed it down.

“I know you’re afraid I’ll copy it, but there are formulas on it—I want to keep it to review.” Jiang Ruotang looked at him sincerely.

Lu Guifan hesitated for a couple seconds. “Then you solve it yourself. If you get it right, you can keep it.”

“Deal.”

Jiang Ruotang lowered his head, struggling but earnestly working for a long while. He finally finished just as the morning bell rang.

Letting out a deep breath, he turned to Lu Guifan and smiled.

Lu Guifan, I’m serious this time.

But Lu Guifan showed no reaction—he simply released the paper and returned to his seat.

Across the aisle sat the English class rep, Jian Sha. With one hand propping up her chin and the other tapping a pen on her desk, she watched Jiang Ruotang’s profile thoughtfully.

A student in the front row turned around and whispered, “Jiang Ruotang, you’re our savior!”

“Yeah, yeah! Thanks for buying us time! Who knew you’d be a living Bodhisattva one day?”

“Thanks to you, I just finished copying the math homework!”

Jiang Ruotang: Uh…

That unexpected side effect had totally slipped his mind.

Grateful gazes from every direction locked onto him. Everyone thought he’d used himself as bait to stall the class rep, giving them extra time to copy homework.

A true hero! So righteous!

Lin Lu tilted her head and stared at Jiang Ruotang, especially at that scrap paper he carefully smoothed out and tucked into his textbook like a treasure.

As their homeroom teacher, Mr. Wang, entered the room, the class fell silent.

Under the desk, Lin Lu tugged Lu Guifan’s sleeve and whispered, “Here she comes! The one you like!”

“Huh? Who?” Jiang Ruotang looked up and saw a boy walking in behind Mr. Wang, also wearing the Guangyao High uniform.

He was turned slightly, so no one could see his face clearly.

The deep blue blazer made his tall, slender figure even more striking. With a high nose bridge, he radiated natural elegance. After years in showbiz, Jiang Ruotang could instantly tell this guy had stunning looks.

A girl up front gasped quietly, “It’s Bai Yingchuan! Am I seeing things? Bai Yingchuan transferred to our school?”

“Is he here to film something?”

“He’s so handsome!”

Grinning, Lin Lu leaned over and nudged Jiang Ruotang with her elbow. “Told you, didn’t I? Now that you’re seeing him in person, aren’t you excited?”

Everyone’s attention was on Bai Yingchuan—except quite a few eyes were also watching Jiang Ruotang, waiting to see how he’d react.

Would he be the first to clap and welcome him, ignoring Mr. Wang’s authority?

Would he stand up and introduce himself as Director Jiang’s son, hoping for special treatment from Bai Yingchuan?

Or maybe plan some wild fan support campaign?

Even Mr. Wang gave Jiang Ruotang a warning glare.

Jiang Ruotang looked at Bai Yingchuan—not because he was still infatuated, but because he subconsciously analyzed the man who had captured his youthful passion for ten whole years. Was it really love, or just the classic “we’re always stirred by what we can’t have”?

“Quiet,” Mr. Wang’s stern voice sliced through the air, bringing total silence to the room.

Jiang Ruotang’s calm reaction disappointed those hoping to see an obsessed fan lose control.

Only Mr. Wang looked genuinely stressed. Class rankings and college admission rates were his top priorities.

Now, in the final year of high school, a celebrity had suddenly transferred in—and such a good-looking one, no less. Both boys and girls would be distracted. Star-chasing and early romance could ruin focus. To Mr. Wang, Bai Yingchuan was a hot potato.

All the chatter vanished, and the classroom grew so quiet a pin could drop.

Mr. Wang cleared his throat. “This is Bai Yingchuan, a transfer student joining us this year.”

Bai Yingchuan slowly walked to the front and turned around.

Jiang Ruotang blinked in surprise. Compared to the alluring “male seductress” persona he’d have ten years later, the current Bai Yingchuan radiated a clean, elegant detachment—a classic first love kind of charm.

“What? He’s transferring here?”

“We’re actually going to be classmates with Bai Yingchuan?”

“Oh my god, no one’s going to believe this if I tell them!”

Like bunnies leaping through the forest, hearts leapt with youthful joy.

At eighteen, hormones were running wild. Everyone longed for a pure, burning love—especially when buried in textbooks and test prep, desperate to feel something.

Bai Yingchuan was the perfect kind of beautiful poison for that yearning.

Jiang Ruotang, however, just smiled faintly.