Tao Zhi’s stomachful of words was completely blocked back by that one “sorry.”

She had already bought the loudspeaker, all ready to blow the horn of battle, but Jiang Qihuai came over, raised a hand, and directly pulled out the power cord of her amplifier.

If he were sincerely apologetic, that would be one thing, but the way he said “sorry” looked like he might as well have carved the word “arrogant” onto his forehead.

And it was obviously perfunctory.

Why on earth did he sound so cocky while apologizing??

Tao Zhi had roamed the streets and alleys near the school and her own neighborhood for sixteen years, seen every kind of storm. When she was brawling and yanking other kids’ hair, this bookworm Jiang Qihuai was probably still learning his ABCs.

If Jiang Qihuai wanted to make her choke through words alone, he was still too young for that.

She quickly recovered, adjusted her expression, and nodded. “Alright then.”

“?”

“Seeing that your attitude in admitting fault is sincere, I’ll reluctantly accept it.” Tao Zhi turned around, pulled a stack of test papers from her desk, then turned back and tossed them in front of him.

Jiang Qihuai lowered his eyes. “What’s this?”

“Your biology summer homework,” Tao Zhi raised her eyebrows. “You’re in charge of biology, didn’t you say that yourself this morning? You’re not planning to treat your own words as farts, are you?”

“……”

This time, it was Jiang Qihuai’s turn to be choked speechless.

“Hurry up,” Tao Zhi leaned lazily against the edge of his desk, one arm propped up. “If you’re quick enough, you should finish before school’s out.”

Jiang Qihuai picked up the stack of papers, flipped through a few pages at random. The vacation worksheets weren’t hard—aside from a few large questions at the end, the rest were basically basic-level questions. “You don’t know how to do this?”

“You’re the one who doesn’t!” Tao Zhi reflexively snapped back, then felt a little guilty right after.

Who the hell could know how to do these questions?

To cover up that guilt, she turned around again, pulled out her physics paper, and threw it at him. “An apology gift. You think just saying sorry is enough? Since you know you were wrong, show some practical action, Classmate Jiang.”

Jiang Qihuai looked like he was hearing a joke. He probably thought what she said was too ridiculous. After a long moment, he finally said, “You think I’ll help you write it?”

“You think if you don’t, I’ll let you off?” Tao Zhi tapped the corner of the desk. “I don’t have many virtues, but being petty is definitely one of them.”

How the hell is that a virtue?

Jiang Qihuai nearly laughed from anger. He licked his lips. “Fine.”

Tao Zhi thought she’d misheard. She had expected him to be harder to deal with. She blinked. “You’ll write it? You have to finish within this week, you know?”

Jiang Qihuai flipped through the papers while giving a faint “mm,” which counted as agreement.

Tao Zhi suspiciously watched him for a while. He opened her physics paper, picked up a pen, lowered his eyes, and really started reading the questions. The pen tip glided across the text, and within moments he marked out an answer, looking focused and serious.

Tao Zhi suddenly felt that maybe she had been a bit too fussy. Maybe when he said those things in the office earlier, he hadn’t meant anything bad—it might’ve just been a casual remark.

Maybe the “Glass Princess” wasn’t so annoying after all.

But the joy of having two subjects’ homework taken care of made her too lazy to think more about it. Feeling perfectly at ease, she left him to it and happily turned back to keep playing on her phone.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

After sleeping all morning, Tao Zhi was much more energetic in the afternoon. During the first class break, she called in “Timely Rain” and tossed him the rest of the papers from the remaining subjects. “Write these.”

Song Jiang leaned against the back door frame, flipped through them, completely dumbfounded. “How the hell am I supposed to write these? I don’t know a damn thing.”

“Be more refined, will you? Why is your manners so terrible?” The self-proclaimed Virtue Expert Tao Zhi couldn’t stand it anymore. “Find someone to divide them up however you like, just make sure they’re all done and handed to me within the week.”

“Who am I supposed to find? Who would even know how to write this stuff?” Song Jiang looked helpless. “Alright, fine. I’ll spend some money and hire someone to do it for you. But does your Old Wang even check these things? Is your class really that strict? It’s just holiday homework—they usually just collect it, glance at it for form’s sake, and that’s it.”

Tao Zhi raised her hand and pointed toward the class sign above the front door. “See that? Class 2–1. The hidden honors class, you know?”

Song Jiang burst out laughing. “I see it. How’d a rat turd like you end up mixed into this pot of porridge?”

“You’re the rat turd!” Tao Zhi lifted her foot, about to kick him. “Ask my dad that question!”

But Song Jiang had long been prepared. He dodged with practiced ease, darted far away down the corridor, and waved the test papers in his hand at her. “I’ll get them to you soon!”

After assigning out all her papers, Tao Zhi spent the rest of the afternoon in complete ease. When the final bell rang that evening and she walked out of the school gates, she immediately spotted Tao Xiuping’s car.

Just then, her phone started ringing. Tao Zhi picked up.

Tao Xiuping: “Across the street—see me yet?”

Tao Zhi looked up. The window of a black sedan’s driver’s seat slowly rolled down, and an arm stretched out, waving enthusiastically in her direction.

“……”

Tao Zhi hung up, walked over, opened the passenger door, and got in. “What’s got the big busy man free today?”

Tao Xiuping started the car, smiling cheerfully at her. “Isn’t it my baby’s first day of school? Such a big day, I had to come pick you up myself. Missed your dad?”

Tao Zhi looked down, tugging on her seat belt. “No.”

Tao Xiuping said, “There’s egg yolk milk pastries from Xinglin Zhai in the back seat. Freshly made, should still be warm.”

Tao Zhi immediately whipped her head around, grabbed the paper bag from the back seat, and in a second changed her tone completely: “Comrade Tao Xiuping is my eternal male god. Comrade Tao Xiuping is as handsome as Daniel Wu.”

Tao Xiuping chuckled and reached over to tap her on the head. “Heartless brat. Haven’t seen me for months, and your dad doesn’t even rank above food?”

“You know you haven’t been back for months,” Tao Zhi tore open a box of pastries, picked one up, and stuffed it into her mouth. “Even the emperor isn’t as busy as you.”

“Well, there’s a princess to raise at home. Can’t afford her if I’m not busy.” Tao Xiuping turned the steering wheel. “What do you want for dinner? I had Auntie make some soup, and the rest your dad will cook for you.”

“Anything’s fine. Just make your usual dishes—they’re all good.” Tao Zhi lifted her head, speaking with her mouth full. “Is Ji Fan coming today?”

Tao Xiuping’s hand on the wheel paused slightly. “He’s still got a few things to handle. Once he’s done, your mom will bring him over.”

Tao Zhi didn’t reply. She turned her head, looking out the window.

The new semester for the second year of high school had just begun, so evening self-study hadn’t started yet. The sky hadn’t gone completely dark—blue-purple hues still held a faint glow, and the moon peeked out distantly from behind the clouds.

After a while, Tao Zhi finally said, “Dad.”

“Mm?” Tao Xiuping responded.

“Is Ji Fan going to live with us from now on?”

“Mm…” Tao Xiuping thought for a moment. “I suppose so.”

Tao Zhi turned to look at him seriously. “Then is Mom going to be by herself from now on?”

Tao Xiuping was silent for a moment. At a red light, he glanced at her and said carefully, “Your mom probably has her own plans too.”

“Then you two won’t ever get back together? Mom doesn’t have a boyfriend now, right?” Tao Zhi’s voice softened. “She hasn’t remarried either.”

The air inside the car suddenly seemed to freeze.

Tao Xiuping sighed, raised his hand to pull hers over, and gave it a gentle squeeze. “Zhizhi…”

“It’s fine.” Tao Zhi quickly interrupted him, as if afraid of hearing more. She spoke fast, “I was just asking casually. As long as you’re both happy, that’s all that matters. I didn’t mean anything else.”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

The Tao family’s house was still the same one from over a decade ago. Back when Tao Xiuping earned his first bucket of gold, he had bought it and never moved again.

The small front yard’s lawn was neatly trimmed, and on one side stood a swing and a children’s slide—something Tao Zhi had set up on a whim together with Song Jiang and the others.

The housekeeper had already finished simmering the soup; the moment they entered, a rich fragrance filled the air. The ingredients for dinner were also ready. After washing his hands, Tao Xiuping went into the kitchen, and soon, several of Tao Zhi’s favorite dishes were served on the table.

Father and daughter had a pleasant dinner. Tao Xiuping nagged her for a while again, telling her to study properly and stay out of trouble. The last person she hit had just gotten his medical expenses paid off, and now another one had landed in the hospital. Tao Zhi mumbled along with a few perfunctory “mm” and “uh-huh,” finally seeing the god of nagging off upstairs.

After drinking the last bit of soup in her bowl, she also went upstairs, returned to her bedroom, closed the door, and lay on the carpet, staring blankly at the ceiling.

The night breeze lifted the curtain. The room was a bit cold. Tao Zhi shivered but was too lazy to get up and fetch a blanket.

She didn’t want Tao Xiuping to feel upset, so she hadn’t mentioned Ji Jin again that evening.

But in her memory, Tao Xiuping and Ji Jin had always gotten along quite well. Back when she and Ji Fan were in middle school, the two had separated suddenly, without any warning.

There hadn’t been frequent quarrels or visible discontent—both had seemed calm and ordinary. Tao Zhi still remembered the morning Ji Jin left with Ji Fan.

It was just getting light. She didn’t go downstairs to see them off. From her bedroom window, she saw Ji Fan standing at the gate, crying and calling her name, refusing to leave.

Tao Xiuping was moving several large suitcases, loading them into the car trunk, while Ji Jin stood silently beside the car, watching.

Before leaving, she went over and hugged him lightly.

Tao Xiuping’s back had gone stiff.

Little Tao Zhi couldn’t understand. Since her parents still liked each other, why did they have to separate? She couldn’t comprehend why adults could have so many reasons and explanations—that even when they still loved each other, they still couldn’t be together.

The day before, she had secretly asked Ji Jin whether she liked another uncle now. The woman had combed her hair gently and told her, “Mommy loves Daddy, and she loves Zhizhi very much too. But sometimes, liking each other doesn’t mean two people can always stay together. Zhizhi will understand one day. Daddy loves Zhizhi too, and he’ll be very, very good to our little Zhizhi.”

Those black eyes so much like her own, and the warmth of those fingers—both had been so gentle.

Little Tao Zhi didn’t understand.

She only knew that from that day on, no one would kiss her good morning when she woke up, or braid her hair into pretty plaits anymore.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Tao Zhi was the kind of person with a big heart and a short memory. Whatever unhappy thing happened, she only needed a shower and a good night’s sleep for it to vanish completely. The next day, she was once again the lively, high-spirited delinquent girl.

The top student’s efficiency was indeed impressive. The next day, both her physics and biology papers were completely done. Tao Zhi even checked the long-answer sections—each one was filled in.

Feeling relieved, she waited for Song Jiang to deliver the rest of the subjects’ papers, and by Thursday morning, handed everything in to Wang Zhezi.

Wang Zhezi looked quite surprised. Over the past few days, he had clearly seen through the façade and recognized Tao Zhi’s true essence of academic indolence. He hadn’t expected her to actually turn in her homework. “You really finished it?”

Tao Zhi stood beside his desk, hands clasped behind her back, looking all obedient and proper.

“Well, it’s even all filled in.” Wang Zhezi flipped through casually. “Alright, I’ll take a look at physics first.”

Tao Zhi gave a quick acknowledgment and left the office.

When she returned to the classroom, it was still morning self-study. She entered through the back door—Jiang Qihuai happened to be sitting in the last row. Tao Zhi glanced at his desk.

The top student really was diligent. Almost every time she saw him that week, he was either reading or doing exercises. If someone spoke to him, he would reply, but never took the initiative to start a conversation.

In Li Shuangjiang’s words, the handsome top student of this affiliated high school was a bit strange.

Because he had helped her with physics, Tao Zhi’s impression of him had improved quite a bit. She had always been someone who judged one matter at a time. If Jiang Qihuai weren’t so arrogant and pretentious, she actually wouldn’t have minded chatting more with this “Princess Highness.”

That thought didn’t survive four periods.

During the last physics class of the morning, Wang Zhezi walked in with a dark face. He slapped the thick stack of homework onto the podium and, as usual, began flipping through the notebooks one by one, calling names and scolding people.

At first, Tao Zhi didn’t take it seriously. After all, Wang Zhezi’s face was dark every day. Even Li Shuangjiang got called out and scolded for a bit. Tao Zhi was even enjoying the show—until the next second when she heard Wang Zhezi bark, “And you, Tao Zhi, stand up!”

“……”

The smile on Tao Zhi’s face froze before she could pull it back. She stood up.

“When you handed in your homework this morning, I was actually relieved,” Wang Zhezi said sternly. “I thought maybe you’d been influenced by your surroundings and finally decided to study seriously. I even graded it for you!”

“Look at this mess you turned in! Huh? Not a single question right—an entire paper, and you didn’t get even one multiple-choice correct! Even if you’d guessed randomly, shouldn’t you have gotten two right by accident?”

“……”

Tao Zhi couldn’t even pretend to smile anymore.

“And these long-answer questions—I thought they looked pretty full, looked like you actually tried. But tell me, why did you write math formulas in a physics exam?” Wang Zhezi’s face was red with anger. “Do you think I’ve never studied math before? You think I wouldn’t recognize them? Huh?? And chemistry formulas too? You’re quite well-rounded, aren’t you? Expanding your interdisciplinary skills in my physics class, are you?”

Tao Zhi didn’t say a word. Slowly, she turned her head toward the culprit sitting in the back, her expression blank, her pitch-black eyes filled with lifelessness.

If looks could talk, there would only be three words in hers—

You’re already dead.

Jiang Qihuai wasn’t the least bit afraid of her. He didn’t look guilty or embarrassed in the slightest. Sitting with his long legs stretched out, foot resting on the bar of the desk, he met her gaze calmly, lazily twirling a pen between his fingers.

“What are you looking back for? I’m talking to you!” Wang Zhezi smacked the paper down on the podium with a sharp thud and jabbed a finger at the sheet, shouting, “How dare you look back? At this level of physics, Jiang Qihuai could get a perfect score with his eyes closed!”