Chapter 16: I’m the Same as You

“Is this okay?” Jiang Ruotang tilted his head, looking up at Lu Guifan.

“Mhm.” Lu Guifan gave a slight nod.

True to his word, Jiang Ruotang handed over his test paper.

Lin Lu, sitting nearby, saw this and said, “The last quarter of your paper’s blank. Aren’t you worried Teacher Song will call you up?”

“If it’s blank, it means I don’t know the answers. If he calls me, I’ll just say I don’t know,” Jiang Ruotang replied matter-of-factly.

Anyway, Song Qinghe definitely didn’t expect him to know.

When Lu Guifan reached for the paper, Jiang Ruotang suddenly grabbed his wrist lightly, his nose brushing ever so slightly against the pulse point of Lu Guifan’s wrist.

The tickling sensation surged a thousandfold, sending ripples through the deep pool of his heart, spreading in all directions.

“Class monitor, you smell nice.”

Jiang Ruotang’s voice was soft, but Lu Guifan heard it clearly.

He could have pulled his hand away, but for some reason, he stayed still, letting Jiang Ruotang hold him.

He sensed no mockery or disrespect. Jiang Ruotang’s expression was like someone catching the first whiff of fresh grass in the dull winter air.

Warm and reverent.

“Is it vetiver?” Jiang Ruotang released Lu Guifan’s wrist and tugged at his own school uniform collar. From Lu Guifan’s angle, he could just see the hidden curve of his neck. “My scent’s the same as yours.”

Lu Guifan didn’t lean in to smell, but he knew Jiang Ruotang was standing up for him.

This was the first time someone at this school had told him: I’m the same as you.

He raised his hand, took the test paper, and lightly pressed his palm on Jiang Ruotang’s head.

His hair was softer than Lu Guifan had imagined.

As he turned to leave, Lu Guifan felt something unprecedented. For the first time at this school, he’d initiated contact with another person.

It felt like a tentative step across a boundary.

And Jiang Ruotang had allowed it.

Once Lu Guifan was out of sight, Lin Lu leaned over. “Vetiver? You made that up, right?”

“Nope, it’s real. If you’re curious, check the supermarket. They’ve got vetiver-scented laundry detergent and powder,” Jiang Ruotang replied.

“Really?” Lin Lu moved to sniff, but Jiang Ruotang covered his neck.

“Only my wife gets to smell my neck. Wanna be my wife?” Jiang Ruotang teased, deflecting Lin Lu’s approach.

That scent was the result of Jiang Ruotang scouring supermarkets for soaps and detergents. He’d finally found a cheap brand of soap powder at a budget store that matched the exact smell of Lu Guifan’s nape from his past life.

Clean, slightly aloof, with a subtle warmth beneath its coolness.

It was a small brand, inexpensive but with natural, simple ingredients. Sister Juan liked the scent too, so all the clothes that didn’t need dry cleaning were washed with Jiang Ruotang’s chosen soap powder.

Lin Lu pinched Jiang Ruotang’s cheek. “I’ve smelled your baby-milk scent as a kid, and now you’re getting shy with me?”

From the back row, Zhao Changfeng suddenly piped up, “Vetiver’s just grass, right? How’s it got a scent?”

Lin Lu sighed, thinking, What a bumpkin.

Jiang Ruotang turned, pulling out his shirt sleeve and holding it out to Zhao Changfeng with a flick of his fingers. “Smell it and find out. Seems like they just launched a vetiver-scented sports deodorant too.”

Zhao Changfeng leaned in and sniffed. “This smells familiar. My mom’s got this scent too!”

Jiang Ruotang grinned, pinching Zhao Changfeng’s cheek. “Silly boy.”

Your dad and my mom are dating. Why do you think she smells like this?

Zhao Changfeng swatted his hand away. “Don’t take advantage of me!”

Jian Sha, the English class rep across the aisle, chuckled. “Is this real-life ABO literature?”

“Huh? What’s ABO? Blood types?” Zhao Changfeng asked blankly.

Jiang Ruotang coughed, choking. Oh my gosh. ABO, that fanfiction trope from overseas, was still wildly popular a decade later.

He hadn’t thought much of it before, but now, recalling how he’d sniffed Lu Guifan’s wrist and offered his own collar… it was straight out of an ABO novel’s playbook.

Thankfully… thankfully, Lu Guifan was laser-focused on studies and probably oblivious to anything else.

But Jian Sha… how did she know about ABO?

I thought you only read world classics. Didn’t peg you for being so trendy.

Today’s fourth period was PE.

Normally, senior-year PE classes would’ve been replaced by academic subjects, but due to Ministry of Education mandates, their PE class had been reluctantly preserved.

The homeroom teacher and grade leader, Teacher Wang, was deeply dissatisfied with this arrangement, firmly believing that PE classes shouldn’t exist and that all senior-year students should dedicate their limited time to boundless studying.

Thankfully, the principal ignored him.

The PE teacher didn’t demand much from them either, usually just letting them grab basketballs, soccer balls, or badminton rackets from the equipment room for free activities.

“Ruotang, what’re you playing later?” Lin Lu asked Jiang Ruotang, though his eyes drifted toward Bai Yingchuan.

If Jiang Ruotang’s guess was right, Lin Lu was itching to play tennis with Bai Yingchuan. So were Geng Yu and his desk mate Xie Liang in the back row, who prided themselves on their affluent backgrounds. To them, ping pong or badminton didn’t scream status—tennis was the elite sport.

If the school’s campus wasn’t so limited, without room for a grass court, these guys would probably flaunt golf clubs to show off.

“I’m not really in the mood to move. Ask someone else,” Jiang Ruotang said, tactfully stepping aside.

“Oh… then I’ll go play with Yingchuan.” Lin Lu’s face showed regret, but his eyes betrayed relief.

“Go for it.”

Watching Lin Lu’s subtle expressions, Jiang Ruotang felt like a college student observing a kid pulling obvious tricks to snag some candy.

As Lin Lu turned, Bai Yingchuan was already surrounded by classmates.

Someone asked if he played volleyball. Bai Yingchuan smiled and said he didn’t.

Another asked if he’d play ping pong. He claimed he wasn’t good at it.

Everyone was eager to see Bai Yingchuan in action.

Lin Lu found the crowd annoying, thinking they lacked tact and boundaries.

Volleyball meant diving for saves, getting all dusty and disheveled. If Bai Yingchuan got scraped or bruised, would they take responsibility?

Ping pong, with its tiny table, wasn’t exactly a graceful or striking sport—hardly befitting Bai Yingchuan’s aura.

“Yingchuan, wanna play tennis?” Lin Lu asked with a smile.

Bai Yingchuan tilted his chin toward Lin Lu’s back. “What about Jiang Ruotang? What’s he playing?”

Lin Lu froze. He hadn’t expected Bai Yingchuan to ask about Jiang Ruotang…

“Ruotang doesn’t really like sports. He’ll probably just sunbathe later.”

“Oh, is that so?” Bai Yingchuan’s brow arched slightly, leaving Lin Lu flustered.

While Jiang Ruotang indeed wasn’t big on sports, in his past life, Lu Guifan had dominated the singles badminton event at his research institute’s staff sports meet.

Jiang Ruotang vividly recalled Lu Guifan’s journey from prelims to finals, his commanding presence during a cross-net smash still etched in memory.

His outstretched arm, the flash of abs when his athletic shirt lifted—Jiang Ruotang could fill an entire sketchbook with those images just by closing his eyes.

But at school, Lu Guifan had few close friends. As class monitor, he was seen as the teacher’s proxy, collecting assignments with a “hand it over or I’ll report you” attitude, putting him at odds with many classmates.

Right now, he opted out of socializing, sitting under a tree with competition problems.

Jiang Ruotang wanted to strike up a conversation but felt it would seem too deliberate. He leisurely followed the group to the sports equipment storage, where Zhao Changfeng and others grabbed basketballs, and Lin Lu, Geng Yu, and their crew took the school’s few tennis rackets.

By the time Jiang Ruotang entered, the lower shelves were cleared of ping pong and badminton rackets, leaving only the ones on the top shelf, requiring a ladder.

Before he could move, Bai Yingchuan’s voice came from behind.

“What do you want to grab?”

A warm breath grazed the back of Jiang Ruotang’s head.

“Huh?” Jiang Ruotang turned, realizing Bai Yingchuan was standing close.

With one hand braced on the cabinet, the vibe felt straight out of a legendary wall-slam scene.

Though absurd, Jiang Ruotang felt almost enveloped by Bai Yingchuan.

“Badminton racket?” Bai Yingchuan asked again.

“Yeah.” Jiang Ruotang nodded.

“Can you play?” Bai Yingchuan stood on his toes, reaching past Jiang Ruotang’s ear to grab the last racket from the top shelf.

“Well… not really. But there’s nothing else to play with.”

Bai Yingchuan handed him the racket. “True. You don’t look like you could toss a shot put.”

The cabinet held only that racket and some shot puts on the bottom shelf. Who’d have thought Bai Yingchuan would tease him?

“Thanks.”

As Jiang Ruotang turned to leave, his collar was lightly tugged, the other’s knuckles brushing his skin.

A faint chill made Jiang Ruotang shiver inexplicably.

“Play together?” Bai Yingchuan offered.

Maybe it was his imagination, but Jiang Ruotang swore Bai Yingchuan had leaned toward his nape, his voice stirring a slight vibration in the air.

“Yingchuan! What’re you still doing here? We’re waiting for you! Tennis doubles!” Lin Lu called from the storage room door.

Whatever Lin Lu saw, a flicker of surprise crossed his eyes.

Jiang Ruotang spoke up. “Go play tennis with them. I got the racket, but I might not even play.”

Bai Yingchuan released his collar, watching him walk away without looking back.

Only then did Lin Lu step in. “Yingchuan, what were you and Ruotang talking about?”

“Nothing. I saw he wanted to play badminton.”

Lin Lu shook his head with a smile. “Ruotang doesn’t like sports. If he sweats playing, he might even throw a little tantrum.”