This was a bit different from what Tao Zhi had imagined.

Ji Fan—she more or less still understood him. At least before he left in junior high, when he got into fights, he was like a little monster, the kind of person who easily lost his temper.

Tao Zhi couldn’t picture what Jiang Qihuai would look like rolling around on the ground in a fight.

He looked like the kind of person who would feel dirty if someone merely brushed against him.

She hadn’t expected he actually came from a general’s background.

“Are you sure you really fought him?” Tao Zhi asked suspiciously.

“Would I still forget something like that?” Ji Fan’s eyes widened. “You think the Little Tyrant of the Affiliated School loses fights that often? I’d remember him even if he turned to ashes.”

Tao Zhi nodded, reminding him, “But it seems like he doesn’t remember you.”

Ji Fan choked, frowning unhappily. “What’s wrong with you, classmate Xiao Tao zhi? Whose side are you on, huh?”

“This isn’t about sides,” Tao Zhi gave him a sideways glance. “You can’t even beat him.”

“Whether I can beat him or not is one thing, but I can’t lose in spirit,” Ji Fan said with great conviction. “I’ll just declare him my lifelong rival.”

Tao Zhi: “……”

Tao Zhi took him to the library to get new textbooks and uniforms. The boy finally took off that arrogant jacket of his and changed into the Experimental High School’s second-year uniform. He looked a bit more well-behaved and a lot more pleasing to the eye.

When they came back, Li Shuangjiang was standing by the door talking to someone. When he saw Ji Fan, he raised both arms high. “Bro—!”

Ji Fan walked over and raised his arms too. “Bro—!”

The two of them stood at the back door of the classroom and embraced passionately.

“See you in the Canyon tonight?”

Ji Fan patted his shoulder. “Sure. I’ll play Blind Monk again.”

“Let’s pull off a mid-jungle combo that’ll make the other side despair.” Li Shuangjiang gripped his hand tightly.

Ji Fan gripped back. “Good brother, I understand you.”

“……”

Tao Zhi rolled her eyes, sidestepped the two lunatics, and returned to her seat to prepare for class, while also keeping an eye on the two who’d once fought.

Ji Fan must have stayed up too late yesterday—he was very sleepy and had no energy to argue with Jiang Qihuai about the past. As soon as the class bell rang, he began to sleep and slept the whole morning through.

During that time, the English teacher gently called to him several times while standing beside him, but still couldn’t wake him from his gentle dreams.

Since Fu Xiling always brought her own lunch, Tao Zhi usually bought food and came back to eat with her. As soon as the dismissal bell rang, the same Ji Fan, who no teacher could wake during class, lifted his sleepy head as if an alarm had gone off in his mind and called to her: “Zhizhi.”

Tao Zhi stacked her books on the upper left corner of the desk and turned around. “What do you want to eat?”

“Anything,” Ji Fan yawned. “Where are you eating? Does the Experimental have anything good?”

“I’m eating in the classroom,” Tao Zhi thought for a moment. “Let’s have spicy hot pot today.”

Ji Fan nodded and stood up. “Then take me with you.”

Jiang Qihuai hadn’t left yet. Tao Zhi hesitated for a moment, turned her head, and for the first time since the start of term asked him, “Do you want to have lunch with us?”

Ji Fan also remembered his new deskmate.

The boy yawned endlessly as he turned around. His eyes narrowed, and in those black pupils—somewhat similar to Tao Zhi’s—there surged a sharp, murderous air.

He sent a message with his eyes—just dare to say yes and see what happens.

Jiang Qihuai lowered his eyelids, closed his book, and stood up. Without so much as a glance at him, he said, “No.”

After that, he left through the back door.

The murderous air that had been boiling in Ji Fan a second ago immediately got stuck in his throat. He turned his head and looked at Tao Zhi, consoling himself, “Was he intimidated by my aura?”

“No. You just became invisible,” Tao Zhi said mercilessly.

“I meant to ask earlier, but I was too sleepy and forgot.” Ji Fan looked at her with a puzzled expression. “Why does it seem like you and Jiang Qihuai are on pretty good terms?”

Fu Xiling had just unscrewed her lunchbox and picked up a piece of beef when she choked on his words.

Tao Zhi looked as if she had seen a ghost. “Which of your eyes saw that we’re on good terms?”

Ji Fan said, “Doesn’t he talk to you quite a bit? During group discussions, I vaguely heard him explaining questions to you, didn’t I?”

Tao Zhi: “…You, the one who sleeps through class, should just sleep properly. Don’t worry about group activities.”

“You just invited him to eat lunch with us,” Ji Fan said discontentedly.

Tao Zhi narrowed her eyes too. “You picking a fight with me? I invited you to eat too.”

“How’s that the same? Aren’t we close?”

“Did your brain short-circuit from sleeping too much? Since when am I close to you?”

Fu Xiling ate her beef while watching, thoroughly entertained by the elementary-school-level quarrel unfolding before her.

Most people in the classroom had already left. Only a few remained. As Fu Xiling chewed, she bit her chopsticks and turned her head, seeing a girl slowly walking over. The girl stopped a short distance away in the aisle, hesitating.

Fu Xiling secretly tugged on Tao Zhi’s hand under the table.

Tao Zhi turned her head.

Fu Xiling tilted her chin toward the girl’s direction.

Tao Zhi looked over. The girl’s gaze met hers, and her just-lifted foot froze mid-step. Her face flushed bright red. She moved her hands behind her back to hide something, seemed to hesitate for a moment, then turned and jogged away.

Ji Fan looked completely puzzled. “What’s with her? Gotta pee?”

“No idea.” The girl was usually quiet in class and had little presence. Tao Zhi couldn’t recall her name for a moment. “Her name’s Li something?”

“Li Sijia, the English class rep,” Fu Xiling said, stuffing another piece of beef into her mouth, her cheeks puffed as she spoke. “Last week during self-study, I saw her talking with the top student in the hallway, and her face was just as red.”

Ji Fan looked at her, confused.

“Classmate Jiang Qihuai,” Fu Xiling clarified.

Ji Fan suddenly understood. “His girlfriend?”

“She definitely wanted to confess,” Fu Xiling said. “Didn’t she just now want to slip the top student a love letter?”

This time even Tao Zhi turned to look at her, seeming to have trouble processing it. “Slip what?”

“A love letter,” Fu Xiling blinked. “Didn’t you see? She was hiding it behind her back. Probably lost her nerve since we were all watching.”

Tao Zhi felt that her understanding of puppy love had just been shaken.

In this day and age, there were still people who confessed to their crushes by slipping them love letters?

Lunch ended, but the lunch break wasn’t over yet. Li Shuangjiang and Zhao Mingqi came back with a few others, arms slung over each other’s shoulders, to grab a basketball. When they saw Ji Fan, they called out, “Bro! Let’s go play ball!”

Ji Fan had been half-asleep, but the moment someone called him to play, he immediately came to life. “Let’s go, let’s go. I’ll even give you a three-point head start.”

The group of boys noisily left the classroom. Fu Xiling lay on her desk catching up on sleep, while Tao Zhi slumped back in her chair, bored out of her mind, playing on her phone.

People came and went from the classroom, but she didn’t pay much attention. Focused, she finished a round of mahjong and lost three hundred thousand fun beans.

The classroom was quiet. Tao Zhi heard the sound of a book turning from the desk behind her—light, almost drowned out by the laughter drifting in through the window from the playground.

She thought Jiang Qihuai had come back. She played a tile, turned around—but the seat behind her was empty. Everything on the desk was exactly as it had been before its owner left.

Tao Zhi didn’t think much of it. She turned back and kept playing mahjong. In the next round, she let the player before her win five times in a row, losing the last of her beans. Just then, the back door opened, and Jiang Qihuai came back.

Tao Zhi put her phone down and slipped it into her desk drawer. Turning around, she asked directly, “Your Highness, have you chosen your consort yet?”

Jiang Qihuai pulled out his chair, movements pausing slightly. “What act are you performing this time?”

“Just curious whether the top student has a puppy love partner,” Tao Zhi said openly. Fu Xiling was still asleep beside her, so she lowered her voice a little to avoid waking her. “And whether you have any plans to select a consort from within the class.”

“No. No plans.”

As Jiang Qihuai spoke, he pulled over the unfinished stack of papers from before lunch, opened them—and froze.

Inside the papers was a pink envelope.

Tao Zhi let out a whistle.

Jiang Qihuai: “……”

She turned her chair around and propped her chin on her hand, deliberately drawing out her words in a teasing tone. “No——plans——you say——”

The sky was overcast today, clouds thick and heavy. Only around noon did the sunlight finally break through, faint and thin, just barely lighting the room.

Tao Zhi sighed in genuine admiration. “When did that girl slip it in? I didn’t even notice. Impressive skills.”

Jiang Qihuai listened to her praising whatever it was she imagined, not even furrowing his brows. He simply set the envelope aside and continued working on his papers.

Tao Zhi glanced at him. “You can still concentrate on questions right now?”

“Why wouldn’t I be able to?” Jiang Qihuai lowered his eyes, his pen drawing a letter across the page.

Tao Zhi didn’t reply. She rested her head on the edge of his desk, looked at him, then at the pink envelope on his desk, then at him again—then at the envelope again.

Her gaze flicked back and forth like that for five whole minutes.

Finally, Jiang Qihuai’s pen paused. He raised his head. “Did you figure out the five questions from yesterday’s math quiz?”

Tao Zhi blinked and shook her head.

“Finished your workbook?”

Tao Zhi shook her head again.

“Then do you think staring at me will help you understand? Will the workbook finish itself?”

“Heartless,” Tao Zhi said, lying on the desk, accusingly.

“……”

“Cold-blooded.”

“……”

“Utterly inhumane.”

“The young lady’s heartfelt affection, you didn’t even look at it.” Tao Zhi sighed softly. “Truly, nothing is more heartless than the imperial family. This Consort Li is flawless in every way, except that she’s blind—falling for a man as unfeeling and faithless as you.”

“……”

This little lunatic spouted elaborate nonsense at him every day; Jiang Qihuai had no idea what this “Consort Li” was supposed to be about.

He set down his pen and leaned back slightly. “So curious?”

Tao Zhi: “About what?”

“This…” Jiang Qihuai paused, then—for the first time—went along with her game. “What Consort Li wrote. If you’re that curious, take a look yourself.”

“How could I? That’s something she secretly wrote for you—a token of her feelings. You should read it yourself.” Tao Zhi spoke with the solemn air of a moral instructor.

She didn’t think much of it and, without pause, went on: “Besides, this palace holds great power but has long been pure of heart and desireless. I’ve no wish to meddle in Your Highness’s harem disputes.”

As soon as she finished speaking, she suddenly realized—something about that didn’t sound quite right.

Tao Zhi froze.

The air between them instantly went still, thick with awkwardness.

Jiang Qihuai raised an eyebrow. “Holds great power?”

Tao Zhi opened her mouth to explain, but her brain short-circuited from embarrassment, and no words came out.

“Doesn’t wish to meddle in my harem disputes?”

Tao Zhi lowered the head she’d been resting on his desk, dodging his gaze, the tips of her ears turning red.

It was rare to see her flustered, and Jiang Qihuai found it rather amusing.

His fingertips tapped lightly on the tabletop, slow and deliberate, as he continued to torment her. “What’s this? You want to be empress?”