People who have shared a secret always feel that their relationship has changed.

For instance, the one who glimpsed the secret will think they now stand on equal ground with the other.

In every sense of the word.

“Hand over the paper.”

“I won’t.”

“Hand it over.”

“I tore it up and ate it.”

Ten minutes later, during the lunch break, Tao Zhi sat in her seat, facing Jiang Qihuai head-on.

The boy leaned back in his chair, the fleeting gentleness that once flashed through his light brown eyes disappearing without a trace, replaced by that familiar, careless indifference.

Jiang Qihuai said it twice, lost interest in wasting any more time on her, and said, “Eat, then.”

After that, he straightened up and opened his book, deciding to give up on saving his hopeless colleague.

He had no idea what she was being so stubborn about.

Tao Zhi pouted and turned away.

At last, she glanced at the empty seat in front of her—Li Shuangjiang was still nowhere to be seen.

Unwillingly, she fished out the math quiz paper from this morning’s class from the compartment under her desk and slapped it onto Jiang Qihuai’s desk with a pa.

The fact that Jiang Qihuai was the one tutoring her made her feel that the equal footing between them was about to be broken.

Jiang Qihuai took a glance at her completely blank paper, then lifted his eyes toward her, his gaze somewhat cutting.

Tao Zhi bristled instantly under that look. “What kind of look is that supposed to be?”

“The kind that says—‘how could someone not know how to do this problem’—” Jiang Qihuai paused. “—that kind of look.”

He said this while picking up his pen and glancing at the question.

On the coordinate plane to the right, the auxiliary lines were already drawn. Jiang Qihuai hadn’t paid attention at first, thinking she’d just been doodling. After reading the question, he paused and lifted his head.

Tao Zhi was lazily leaning over his desk, chin resting on the crook of her arm, letting out a big yawn.

Noticing his gaze, she spoke with tears still glimmering from the yawn: “What are you looking at me for? Do your question.”

Jiang Qihuai: “……”

The girl raised her hand, wiped the bit of tear at the corner of her eye with her fingertip, then tapped the paper and complained, “You’ve been staring at it this long and still haven’t written a single word?”

Jiang Qihuai didn’t answer. His pen tapped the sheet. “You drew this?”

“Who else, you?”

Jiang Qihuai didn’t respond. He seemed to be thinking about something else, his attention not on her words, as he started to write.

Tao Zhi watched, bored.

His handwriting was beautiful—tall, slightly slanted characters, each one perfectly proportioned as if measured with a ruler, lined neatly across the page.

But in strokes like verticals or sweeping diagonals, he habitually lengthened and flung them outward, adding a bit of recklessness that broke the rigid neatness.

Unknowingly, Tao Zhi’s gaze drifted upward from his pen to his face.

The boy was completely focused, his dark lashes casting a thick shadow, long and dense, as though brushed with a growth serum—enough to make any girl envious.

A sudden, baseless competitiveness rose within her.

“Hey.” Tao Zhi suddenly spoke.

Jiang Qihuai didn’t react—either he was too focused, or he simply didn’t hear her.

“Pull out one of your eyelashes and let me see it,” Tao Zhi ordered.

Jiang Qihuai’s pen paused. “What’s wrong with you?”

Tao Zhi huffed angrily. “I want to compare whose eyelashes are longer—yours or mine.”

Jiang Qihuai ignored her.

He quickly finished the five problems. After writing out the last formula and answer, he habitually spun his pen and said, “All the formulas are up there. Look for yourself.”

Tao Zhi leaned forward, tilting her head to look at the dense writing across the paper, her face blank. “What kind of formulas are these?”

There were five problems in total. Except for the last one, which was a bit difficult, the auxiliary lines she’d drawn on the first four were all correct.

She had the right approach and reasoning—but not a single formula memorized.

He had never met such a kind of failing student before.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

The most boring tutor Tao Zhi had ever met in her life was the one Tao Xiuping hired for her during her first year of high school.

She’d successfully driven him away after two weeks.

Now, she felt that Jiang Qihuai’s way of explaining problems was even more boring than that tutor’s.

The red gel pen drew a line under a formula. “Quadratic function.”

“Trigonometric function.”

“Double-angle formula.”

Tao Zhi blinked and directed from the side, “Write it down with a red pen for me. Just saying it won’t make me remember.”

“If you can’t remember, stay after evening study in the math office and let Wang Er help you recite them. No need to go home,” Jiang Qihuai said evenly. “This one—parametric equation.”

The bell rang in the hallway, signaling the end of the noon self-study period.

Tao Zhi let out a long sigh of relief, pulled the test paper over, and turned around.

The first class in the afternoon was P.E.

After second year, whether they could actually have P.E. depended entirely on luck—and on the teachers’ moods. Last week, half their P.E. time had been taken by English and Physics.

This week, Wang Zhezi didn’t seem to have plans to take over the period. The classroom burst into cheers, and in an instant everyone was gone.

Tao Zhi carefully wrote down the formulas Jiang Qihuai had just mentioned along the margins of her paper before slowly heading out.

The Experimental School campus was large; the gymnasium was on the opposite diagonal from the second-year classrooms. Tao Zhi took a shortcut through the cafeteria, circled past a small patch of greenery, and arrived just as the second bell rang.

She entered through the side door. In the adjacent indoor basketball court, several classes were already playing.

She kept close to the edge as she walked, seeing that Class One had already formed their lineup. The P.E. teacher was talking in front, and she quietly slipped into the back of the line.

“Today’s our class’s first P.E. session. Didn’t have it last week, right?” The P.E. teacher looked to be in his fifties, speaking slowly with a friendly smile. “Since it’s the first class, I’ll let you all relax a bit. P.E. monitor, step forward.”

A tall boy beside Tao Zhi took two steps forward.

“What’s your name, monitor?”

“Zhao Mingqi!” the tall boy shouted.

“‘Zhao Mingqi,’ huh—‘lighting equipment,’ nice name,” the P.E. teacher said cheerfully.

One of the class’s “crowd-pleasers” laughed along, and Zhao Mingqi’s face flushed slightly as he scratched his nose in embarrassment.

“All right,” the P.E. teacher said easily, “since it’s the first day, I’ll let you all have some fun. Class monitor, lead them to jog two laps around the gym to warm up first.” He smiled kindly. “After that, you’re dismissed for free activity—go play basketball or whatever you like. You all study hard enough as it is, so I’ll cut you some slack today.”

A cheer erupted. Zhao Mingqi turned the line to the right and led the group out of the gym.

After two laps, the delicate “bookworms” of Class One collapsed on the steps, panting heavily, while only a few energetic boys were still bouncing around.

Li Shuangjiang sat on the floor for a while, then suddenly sprang up and hooked an arm around Zhao Mingqi’s neck. “Come on, Qi-ge, let’s play ball!”

Boys in puberty all seemed to have an inexplicable passion for basketball. In small groups, they stood up and streamed into the court with loud chatter.

Tao Zhi squatted on the gym’s front steps, glancing sideways at Jiang Qihuai.

No one called out to him.

No one dared to.

Transfer students, whether intentionally or not, were always kept on the outside.

And with Jiang Qihuai’s “keep away from strangers” personality—completely unapproachable—almost no one in class spoke to him except for the overly friendly Li Shuangjiang.

After running two laps, Tao Zhi’s throat felt dry. She got up to buy a bottle of water from the nearby canteen, but when she stood, she couldn’t help glancing again at Jiang Qihuai beside her.

The boy was wearing a white school jacket, unzipped low, revealing the white T-shirt underneath. He had barely broken a sweat. His short hair was a little tousled, the strands falling over his brows as he moved, his lips pressed in a faint downward line.

A few boys with their arms around each other’s shoulders went into the gym laughing; those who didn’t enter stood around chatting in groups of two or three.

Only he stood leaning against the wall, separated from the world around him—like a small, lonely figure caught in a different space altogether.

He looked like a pitiful little stray.

Tao Zhi pulled her gaze back, stuffed her hands into her pockets, and strolled lazily toward the canteen.

It was class time now, so there weren’t many people inside. By the time she bought her water and returned, no one was left by the gym entrance. She entered through the back door and saw the girls sitting on the rows of chairs by the basketball court, chatting.

She walked over, placed her water on the bench, and turned to go to the restroom.

The gymnasium had four floors. On the first were two large indoor basketball courts, next to an indoor tennis area; the restroom was at the end of the hallway.

Even before she entered, Tao Zhi could hear movement inside.

She didn’t pay it much mind, pushed open the door, and walked straight in. The air was filled with noisy laughter from several girls, loud voices, and the click-click of phone cameras.

“Hey, don’t move, let me take another one.”

“This one’s good, I like it—send it to me later.”

At first, Tao Zhi thought they were just taking selfies. She stepped out of a stall and went to wash her hands at the sink.

Then she heard the soft sound of a girl crying.

“What are you crying for? Didn’t we take nice pictures for you?” the first girl said with a playful tone. “You were so shameless when you were flirting with someone else’s boyfriend, and now you’re acting like a victim? You even went crying to the teacher, huh? Because of you, he got suspended and sent home—what are you pretending to be pitiful for now? You love tattling that much?”

Tao Zhi frowned and walked over.

In the innermost stall, three girls in third-year uniforms had surrounded a corner.

Fu Xiling was crouched there, pressed tightly against the partition wall. Her uniform and the T-shirt beneath had been half torn away, exposing her undergarments and skin. Her usually soft, fuzzy short hair was a complete mess.

The girl who had been speaking was pinching Fu Xiling’s chin hard, forcing her head up. Fat tears rolled down in large drops, splattering one after another. There was a red, swollen handprint on her left cheek. Her whole body trembled as she cried, choking so hard she couldn’t speak.

In front of her, two girls were holding up their phones, taking pictures—click, click—each sound of the camera mixing with malicious laughter.

“This one’s good too. Let’s post it on the school’s photo wall tonight for everyone to admire.”

Tao Zhi felt as if her own sanity had snapped along with that shutter sound.

She kicked open the half-closed stall door. The panel slammed hard against the wall with a loud thud that echoed through the empty restroom.

The girls jumped in fright, turning with their phones still raised. Tao Zhi reached out, snatched the phones from their hands, and with two solid plunks, threw them straight into the toilet.

Fu Xiling lifted her head in shock, her red, swollen eyes looking up at her.

Tao Zhi lowered her gaze. The girl just stared back at her and cried.

Up close, Tao Zhi could see the cut on her lip, a thin thread of blood seeping out. There were fingernail scratches on her pale neck. Her eyes were completely red, and her tears slid down silently, full of humiliation and despair.

The phones gurgled as they sank, and the two girls in front started screeching like broken speakers, their voices shrill and angry, though Tao Zhi barely heard a word.

She took off her school jacket and threw it over Fu Xiling, then grabbed the two girls by the collars and shoved them forward hard.

They clearly hadn’t expected her to move first. Both were caught off guard—one fell heavily to the ground, while the other flung her hand forward to find support, only for her palm to smack directly into the toilet bowl.

Tao Zhi pressed the girl’s head down into it, stepped forward, and seized the wrist of the one who had been clutching Fu Xiling’s chin, twisting it sharply backward.

The girl cried out in pain. “What the hell are you doing! Who the hell are you?!”

Tao Zhi didn’t answer—she dragged the girl by the wrist straight out.

The girl stumbled, tripped, and fell, scratching wildly in resistance. Her long nails gouged into Tao Zhi’s arm, leaving deep red trails. Thin lines of blood welled up immediately.

Tao Zhi didn’t seem to feel it. She kept dragging the girl out of the restroom and into the hallway.

The wide, echoing corridor of the gym filled with screams and curses as Tao Zhi pulled her along. She marched through the dim hall and into the bright, crowded basketball court.

The commotion instantly drew everyone’s attention.

There were four basketball hoops in the gym, dividing it into two courts, both filled with people playing. Benches along the side were packed with chatting girls. Now, all heads turned toward the noise.

On the left court, Li Shuangjiang had just landed a three-pointer. The ball clanged off the rim and bounced away, forgotten. He turned—and froze at the sight of Tao Zhi dragging someone inside.

“Holy shit, what’s the class monitor doing?” Li Shuangjiang took two quick steps forward.

Tao Zhi dragged the girl straight to the center of the court.

The sweaty boys stopped playing, staring blankly in confusion, not knowing what was happening.

The girl was still cursing, her shrieks breaking into humiliated sobs. Her nails dug so deep into Tao Zhi’s arm that blood streaked between her fingers.

When they reached the middle, Tao Zhi let go. The girl fell to the floor with a thud.

Before she could react, Tao Zhi grabbed her by the collar, yanked her halfway up—and slapped her.

A sharp smack cracked through the silence of the gym, echoing loudly.

The force was heavy. The girl’s head snapped to the side, and her swearing stopped cold.

When she looked up again, a bright red handprint was already blooming across her cheek.

The girl finally found her voice, glaring at Tao Zhi in disbelief. “You f—”

Another smack cut her off mid-word. Tao Zhi struck her again, backhanded.

Standing above her, the girl’s face was calm, her black eyes void of expression. “You’ve been running your mouth this whole time. Why don’t you ever shut up?”

The girl’s head whipped to the side again. Her vision spun, her ears rang, and her face burned in searing pain.

She didn’t even register where she was for a moment, only reflexively spat back: “Fuck. You—”

When the girl opened her mouth, Tao Zhi swung her hand, and the third slap landed hard, with not an ounce of mercy.

The girl was thrown to one side and collapsed to the ground.

The basketball court fell utterly silent.

Tao Zhi crouched down and looked at her, squinting: “You like slapping people?”

The girl was completely silent, both sides of her face swollen, eyes bloodshot as she held back tears, trembling all over.

“You like stripping other people’s clothes off, then strip off yours right here,” Tao Zhi’s dark eyes watched her, and she said in a low voice, “Take your clothes off the same way you took others’ off ten minutes ago, so everyone can have a look.”

The girl lifted her head, biting her lip hard; humiliation and pain surged together, and finally the tears fell.

Tao Zhi watched her and raised her hand again.

The girl flinched instinctively and squeezed her eyes shut.

A pair of cold hands gripped her chin and lifted her head, the exact same movement as ten minutes ago.

She kept her eyes closed and felt someone draw close, whispering near her ear in a voice full of icy malice, like a demon’s whisper: “If you don’t take them off I’ll beat you; every minute you hesitate I’ll slap you once.”