Chapter 26: Wearing Contact Lenses for the First Time

Meng Yang stood with his hands behind his back, head lowered, looking guilty, while the grade director scolded him.

“You’re in the first-floor exam room. Why were you running around on the third floor? If not for you, would Lu Guifan’s glasses have broken?”

Meng Yang muttered, “It’s not my fault. Who made his glasses so flimsy? Everyone else’s glasses fall and are fine—only his lenses shattered.”

“You’re still arguing?” The director’s forehead veins bulged.

Lu Guifan sat nearby, as Teacher Song returned from the microwave room with his heated lunch, consoling him to eat.

When Jiang Ruotang arrived, he saw Lu Guifan’s back. He seemed unhurried, eating slowly—likely because, without glasses, he couldn’t clearly see what was in his lunchbox.

The teachers were discussing what to do.

The grade director asked, “Does any teacher have high-prescription glasses to lend Lu Guifan for the afternoon math exam?”

“We’ve got plenty of reading glasses, but none for severe nearsightedness…”

“What then? There’s no time to get new ones—only an hour until the exam. Should we let Lu Guifan defer?”

“Sigh, he’s up for a scholarship. If he skips math, other students and parents will complain, causing a ruckus!”

“It’s not just the scholarship—there’s the guaranteed admission spot. If this blows up and people claim our scholarship or admission process is unfair, it’ll be trouble…”

Jiang Ruotang listened to the teachers’ frantic debate, glancing at Meng Yang.

Meng Yang faced the English teacher’s desk, where a small vanity mirror sat. Jiang Ruotang clearly saw his smirk.

He’s grinning.

Sure enough, Lu Guifan’s glasses, though old and outdated, had survived years. How could a single bump from Meng Yang shatter them?

“Lu Guifan!” Jiang Ruotang called.

Lu Guifan turned slowly toward the voice. The onlookers at the office door hushed for two seconds before erupting.

“Whoa, is that the four-eyes class monitor from Class 1?”

“He looks like that without glasses?”

“He’s kinda hot… almost as good as Bai Yingchuan!”

“You dare compare Four-Eyes to Bai Yingchuan? Careful, Bai’s fans will come with banners to tear you apart!”

Lu Guifan ignored the chatter, walking to Jiang Ruotang.

Where he once caught every microexpression, now it was like peering through fog.

“What’s up?”

His voice and tone sounded as cool as ever to others, but he knew it was softer than usual.

Jiang Ruotang raised his voice toward the teachers. “Teacher Song, I want to take Lu Guifan to a nearby glasses shop to try something!”

Teacher Song stood. “I’ve got my car—I’ll drive you!”

Meng Yang’s shoulders twitched, a mocking smirk forming. “Sure, money moves mountains. Young Master Jiang’s got cash to burn—rush, rush, super-rush. Think he can’t get glasses in time?”

“You broke them, so you’re paying for the rush job,” Jiang Ruotang shot back coolly.

Meng Yang choked. Everyone knew Jiang Ruotang was a big spender—those glasses could cost a fortune.

Jiang Ruotang grabbed Lu Guifan’s wrist, whispering, “Let’s go.”

As they left the building, Lin Lu, sitting by a window, was about to close the curtain for a nap when he saw Jiang Ruotang pulling Lu Guifan along.

“When did those two get so close?” Lin Lu frowned, baffled.

Just because Jiang Ruotang asked Lu Guifan basic questions before morning self-study?

But Lu Guifan, with his low EQ and no knack for coddling rich kids, wasn’t even in Jiang Ruotang’s friend zone.

He’s getting harder to read.

In Teacher Song’s car, Jiang Ruotang couldn’t stop staring at Lu Guifan’s profile.

“I can’t see clearly, but I can feel you staring,” Lu Guifan said, eyes forward. Jiang Ruotang’s gaze was blatant—only a corpse wouldn’t notice.

Oddly, Lu Guifan felt no offense, only kindness, curiosity, and warmth in it.

Teacher Song teased, “Maybe Jiang Ruotang thinks you’re hotter than Bai Yingchuan and wants a new idol.”

Jiang Ruotang laughed, scratching his head. “I’m just shocked! Your glasses, so crucial, broke. It could mess up your math score, your ranking, your scholarship, even your guaranteed admission. How are you not freaking out? Normal people would be like ants on a hot pan, scrambling to fix it.”

Teacher Song nodded. “Yeah, Lu Guifan, you’re too calm.”

Lu Guifan said unhurriedly, “I don’t care because it’s already happened. Worst case, I lose this year’s scholarship and admission spot. No scholarship? I’ll just have less meat in my lunch. As for the admission to Sheng City Jiaotong University, I can get into a better school myself.”

Jiang Ruotang studied his expression—he’s genuinely unfazed.

“Ugh, comparing yourself to others is infuriating…” Jiang Ruotang mumbled.

“You don’t need to compare,” Lu Guifan said calmly.

“Why not? Isn’t the college entrance exam all about scores?”

“Everyone has their own track. Your art is great—you’re miles ahead on your path.”

Jiang Ruotang froze. He hadn’t expected Lu Guifan to praise him, though it was likely because his painting made it to an exhibition, suggesting high skill.

Teacher Song, gripping the wheel, was stunned too. Lu Guifan, comforting and affirming another student? A rare bloom!

In this vibe, Teacher Song smiled. “Jiang Ruotang, you’ve been working hard this month, especially in math.”

“Really?” Jiang Ruotang hadn’t expected praise from Teacher Song.

“Though you left the last two big math questions blank—no attempt at all.”

“Because I had no clue! No direction to even struggle in. Those questions are an ocean, and I’m a freshwater fish—totally lost,” Jiang Ruotang said confidently.

Teacher Song laughed, nodding. “That’s good. Knowing what you can and can’t do. Before, I’d flip through everyone’s practice papers, all filled to the brim, and couldn’t tell what they didn’t get. Now, I just check yours, see where your logic’s off or wildly wrong, and know what to focus on next class.”

Hearing this, Jiang Ruotang wasn’t sure whether to blush or feel proud for being Teacher Song’s “reference answer.”

Five minutes later, they reached the nearest optical shop. Teacher Song showed Lu Guifan’s broken glasses, but as expected, with his high prescription, new lenses would take until 3 p.m.—an hour into the exam.

Teacher Song looked at Lu Guifan, troubled.

Lu Guifan remained calm. “We’ve tried. Teacher Song, let’s head back so Jiang Ruotang doesn’t miss his exam.”

Teacher Song turned, about to call Jiang Ruotang, but saw him at another counter, studying something intently.

Before Song could speak, Jiang Ruotang tapped the glass. “Do these contact lenses come in my friend’s prescription?”

“They do! But this brand is…”

Before the optician finished, Jiang Ruotang put a finger to his lips, signaling silence.

Teacher Song slapped his forehead. “I’m such a dope—forgot about contact lenses!”

Most teachers and students wore frame glasses; contacts weren’t breathable and tired the eyes after a class, so few used them.

The optician found Lu Guifan’s prescription. “Lucky you—this high a prescription, we usually only stock one box.”

“One box is fine—just for this afternoon’s emergency,” Jiang Ruotang grinned.

These were new-material daily disposables, comfortable but pricey.

Teacher Song hesitated. “Neither Lu Guifan nor I know how to wear contacts… Jiang Ruotang, do you?”

Jiang Ruotang grinned, rolling up his sleeves. “I’m a contact lens pro!”

He paid with his card, washed his hands thoroughly, and approached Lu Guifan like a surgeon.

“Class Monitor, be good.”

Lu Guifan didn’t speak but slightly tilted his head toward Jiang Ruotang.

Moments ago, he was calm and composed; now, he seemed almost… obedient.

Obedient?

Jiang Ruotang, are you insane? Thinking Lu Guifan is obedient?

This was the guy who confiscated your chips and cola hidden under the hospital bed!

The one who caught you sneaking a cigarette on the hospital rooftop and pinched your fingers till they nearly broke!

Obedient, my foot.

Standing before Lu Guifan, Jiang Ruotang grew nervous the closer he got.

Steadying his heartbeat, he said in a businesslike tone, “Class Monitor, I’ll hold your eyelids open. Look up, don’t blink. I’ll be quick.”

“Okay.” Lu Guifan looked up, his long lashes like soft hooks grazing Jiang Ruotang’s heart.

Done for. Still think he’s adorable.

Jiang Ruotang wasn’t exaggerating—his movements were swift. Lu Guifan looked up, not rolling his eyes awkwardly but focusing on Jiang Ruotang’s chin.

In an instant, something cool and moist touched Lu Guifan’s eyeball. Cool liquid trickled down his cheek, and Jiang Ruotang’s fingers wiped it away. The warmth of his fingertips clashed with the cold liquid, sending a jolt through Lu Guifan’s nerves. The world snapped into sharp clarity from a shimmering blur, and the first thing he saw was Jiang Ruotang.

Lu Guifan couldn’t describe the sensation. It was as if the world had brightened to a new level, and Jiang Ruotang was the one who made it happen.

“How’s it feel, Class Monitor? Any stinging or scratching?” Jiang Ruotang asked carefully.

Lu Guifan glanced around and replied, “Feels fine.”

The optician muttered, “Of course it’s comfortable—money doesn’t lie.”

Jiang Ruotang, thrilled, fitted the other lens.

Lu Guifan blinked, looked around, and nodded. “Can’t even tell there’s something in my eyes.”

Teacher Song, amazed, pointed at a vision chart. “Can you read this line clearly?”

“Very clearly.”

Jiang Ruotang handed the broken glasses to the shop assistant, arranging for a rush order with ultra-thin lenses, to be picked up by 6 p.m.

Outside, Teacher Song said, “How much were the contacts? I’ll pay you back.”

“No need. I’ll get it from Meng Yang,” Jiang Ruotang said with a grin.

“That’s not right—I saw the price. Five pairs cost over a hundred!”

“Cheap compared to a scholarship,” Jiang Ruotang replied cheerfully.

Lu Guifan stood before a mirror, seeing his bare face clearly for the first time in ages.

It really resembled Jiang Ruotang’s painting.

As if someone in this world had seen the real him first.

Back in the car, Teacher Song rushed them to school, calculating they’d have about twenty minutes to rest.

Lu Guifan was as quiet as on the way there, now gazing out the window.

The familiar school route looked strangely vivid, almost reborn.

Teacher Song occasionally glanced at Lu Guifan through the rearview mirror, thinking Wang Fuzi, the “early romance killer,” would have a headache.

With Bai Yingchuan, the school idol, and now Lu Guifan’s revealed looks, hearts would be dropping.

Song, though no longer young, remembered youthful crushes. Lu Guifan, top student with refined features, was the ultimate first-love archetype.

“Class Monitor,” Jiang Ruotang’s voice broke the silence.

“Hm?” Lu Guifan turned to him.

“When I put in your contacts, I touched your lashes,” Jiang Ruotang said with a cheeky grin. “So ticklish.”

That “ticklish” brushed Lu Guifan’s heart like a silent feather, making him grip the fabric on his knee.

Jiang Ruotang handed him a small bottle. “If your eyes feel sore during the exam, use these drops. Don’t rub your eyes—it’ll dislodge the lenses. If it’s really uncomfortable, tell the teacher. Don’t tough it out.”

“Got it.” Lu Guifan took the bottle with a soft nod, giving the impression he’d follow Jiang Ruotang’s every word.

Teacher Song, driving, watched them in the back.

That these two could connect, especially Jiang Ruotang so eagerly helping Lu Guifan, was beyond his expectations.

At school, Jiang Ruotang’s exam room was on the first floor. As he headed in, Lu Guifan called, “Jiang Ruotang.”

“Yeah?”

“Math—at least don’t mess up what I taught you.”

Jiang Ruotang grinned. “Don’t worry, your lessons are etched in stone.”

---

Lu Guifan reached the third floor, passing the fourth exam room where chatter drifted out.

“Lu Guifan still isn’t back. No way he fixed those ancient glasses in time.”

“Without them, can he even read the paper?”

“No chance. Those lenses were thick as bottle caps—his prescription’s gotta be intense!”

“Finally, a new first place! Even if it’s not a fair win, it’s something fresh.”

Lu Guifan ignored them, heading to the first exam room.

The first room was Beicheng Guangyao’s elite hub—students bound for top universities or competition winners. The atmosphere was different, a quiet intensity of silent competition.

Some reviewed, some listened to music, others rested. When Lu Guifan took the first seat, heads turned, belatedly recognizing their glasses-less top student.

His hairstyle, clothes, and frame screamed Lu Guifan, but without the nerdy glasses, his aura was transformed.

A student across the aisle stole several glances.

Ye Jiaming, perennial second place, returned from the restroom and froze at the sight of Lu Guifan.

“You’re… back?” Unsure how much Lu Guifan could see, Ye waved a hand.

Lu Guifan grabbed his wrist precisely, looking up. “I’m nearsighted, not blind.”

That piercing gaze seemed to see through Ye Jiaming’s thoughts. If Lu Guifan flubbed math, losing first place, Ye’s chances for the guaranteed admission spot would rise.

Ye apologized awkwardly. “Sorry, sorry… First time seeing you without glasses. Did you… fix the issue?”

“Solved. No worries.”

Lu Guifan released his wrist.

Ye swallowed, noting Lu Guifan’s lashes and features. With glasses, he seemed plain and sharp; without, his contours and lines were strikingly elegant.

If Bai Yingchuan was a bold, attention-grabbing heartthrob, Lu Guifan was the opposite—subtle at first, but increasingly refined the longer you looked.

Jian Sha, three rows away, leaned forward. Known for her bold, nun-like detachment, even she marveled internally: A hidden gem! So handsome—does a prince feel this way seeing Cinderella?

Song Qinghe and another teacher entered with sealed exam papers. Answer sheets were distributed, and as the bell rang, the glasses drama faded. Students bowed their heads to work.

Lu Guifan used the same pink pen from the morning.

Perhaps it was his imagination, but the ink flowed smoothly, comfortable in his hand.

Suddenly, he pictured Jiang Ruotang standing before him with a fistful of pens, silly like a kid next door offering all his lollipops to play together.

Why pick pink?

Maybe because his grandpa’s courtyard had drooping crabapple blossoms that color… like his name.

Lu Guifan realized he was distracted and snapped back to focus.

The room was silent, save for rustling papers and pens scratching.

With ten minutes left, Lu Guifan stood, submitting his paper, answer sheet, and scratch work.

Song Qinghe paused, concerned. “Are the contacts bothering you? Jiang Ruotang said to use the drops if they’re uncomfortable.”

“No issues,” Lu Guifan replied. “This exam wasn’t hard. I finished and checked twice.”

Song Qinghe blinked. Not hard? This was a brutal monthly exam, crafted by math teachers to mimic past college entrance exams with ramped-up difficulty, meant to jolt seniors out of summer sloth and face the exam’s rigor.

And Lu Guifan called it easy?

Well, who can blame him when he swept the national Olympiads in math, physics, and chemistry last semester?