Tao Zhi didn’t expect that she would get caught while video-calling her boyfriend—whom she had only confirmed a relationship with an hour ago.

She had never lived in a dormitory before, but Song Jiang had. Back in middle school, he was such a troublemaker—skipping classes and getting into fights—that Old Master Song gave an order and sent him to a strictly supervised boarding school for two semesters. It was completely useless. In the end, with no other choice, they brought him back.

According to Song Jiang, the dorm life was extremely indifferent. Everyone minded their own business, doing their own things. Inside the dorm, they each just played by themselves. Other than the necessary communication and occasional chatting, no one cared what their roommates were doing.

Jiang Qihuai had only stayed for a week, and somehow, he already seemed to be getting along with his roommates.

With that temper of his.

When she had known him for a week, the two of them could hardly even exchange half a sentence beyond what was absolutely necessary—as if they were mortal enemies.

And who the hell answers calls or video chats in a dorm without wearing earphones!

Wouldn’t that mean everything she said had been heard by his roommates?

Tao Zhi rolled over and lay on her back on the sofa, sighing gloomily.

Forget it. It couldn’t possibly be more embarrassing than those ugly autumn pants from the sports meet anyway. She probably wouldn’t have to see his roommates ever again.

Her boyfriend was now someone doing experiments!

Her boyfriend.

At the thought of those three words, Tao Zhi’s mood brightened again. The phone buzzed beneath her hip, and she picked it up to check.

[A Secret]: Why did you hang up?

As soon as Tao Zhi imagined his roommates on the other end teasing her, her ears started burning. She angrily typed back:

[Zhizhi Grape]: Good night!!

She, in her infinite mercy, had already backed off, yet Jiang Qihuai seemed to get more worked up instead.

[A Secret]: So cold.

[A Secret]: Not going to chat a bit more?

Tao Zhi: “…”

She opened the emoji panel, carefully searched for a while, and selected a cat meme she had stolen from Fu Xiling.

[Zhizhi Grape]: Cat falling down.jpg

[Zhizhi Grape]: Not disturbing your studying. Do well on your exams!

After sending the messages, she raised her arm high, stared at Jiang Qihuai’s chat window on the WeChat screen for a while, and couldn’t help but purse her lips into a smile.

Slowly, she opened his WeChat again, changed his remark name, and after a moment of hesitation, pinned their chat to the top once more.

Let it stay high then.

He was such a good person—it was only right for him to occupy the top spot in both her WeChat and her life.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

The day after Jiang Qihuai’s competition exam ended, he came to school as usual.

The day before, Li Shuangjiang caught wind of the news and specially used his pocket money to rush an order for a banner at the copy shop near the school.

Early the next morning, as soon as Tao Zhi stepped into the classroom, she saw several people bustling in front of the blackboard again. She walked over and craned her neck to take a look. “What are you guys up to this time?”

Li Shuangjiang turned around with a mysterious look and grinned. “Finding a little fun in our dull study life.”

Zhao Mingqi said solemnly, “No matter how harsh our living conditions are, as long as we live, we must never forget the four characters ‘enjoy life in time’.”

They kept busy until the morning self-study period began.

The banner was hung above the blackboard, tied up with a rope and rolled into a long cylinder. It hadn’t been unfurled yet. The long roll, with its black, white, and vermilion edges, blended almost seamlessly into the background, making it impossible to see what was written on it.

The first period was Wang Er’s math class.

Tao Zhi could now barely keep up with the pace of the lessons. Once she could understand the content being taught, attending class became a lot more interesting.

She was like a sponge that had been dried under the sun for a long time, desperately soaking up water and swelling rapidly.

On the podium, Wang Er finished going over yesterday’s homework papers and started preparing for the new lesson.

Standing on the platform, he flipped open the textbook and drawled, “Alright, everyone turn your books to page fifty-six. We’re going to play with something fun this period.”

The students below lazily flipped their books open. Wang Er turned around to look for his set square.

The large wooden set square used for teaching wasn’t on the desk today—it was hanging beside the blackboard, suspended by a rope tied with an easily loosened knot.

As Wang Er raised his hand to untie the knot, he said, “Who tied my set square up here, huh? Don’t you people have anything better to do all day? Even a broken ruler can entertain you—”

He stopped halfway through his sentence.

The knot came loose. Losing the weight of the set square, the thin rope whipped upward. The loops tied around the banner above unraveled like a small snake slithering open, and with a swish, the entire banner dropped down, unfurling before the whole class.

Wang Er happened to be standing right under it and was completely covered from head to toe.

The banner was bright red, the letters printed in vivid yellow. In the center, a half-raised human shape bulged beneath the fabric where Wang Er stood, but that didn’t stop everyone from clearly seeing the words written across it.

—— Warmly celebrate our experimental elite, Classmate Jiang, returning in glory.

—— Our excitement overflows; only such a bold display can express it.

And in the far right corner, one more line:

—— Jiang Qihuai is awesome.

There was two seconds of silence—then the classroom erupted in loud, uniform laughter.

Zhao Mingqi, seeing their plan succeed perfectly, slammed his desk and jumped to his feet in excitement. “Hell yeah!”

Tao Zhi watched in awe. She prided herself on being a mischievous delinquent for many years, but she had never imagined there were people this daringly reckless.

“……”

Wang Er slowly raised his hand, lifted the edge of the banner, and crawled out from underneath.

When he came out, Zhao Mingqi and Li Shuangjiang were across several rows of desks, raising their hands high to give each other a triumphant air high-five.

Wang Er first glanced back at the banner, and though it was unclear whether he was furious beyond words, he actually laughed. Turning back with a blank face, he pointed at Zhao Mingqi. “Zhao Mingqi, Li Shuangjiang—you two, get out. I’ll deal with you properly after class.”

It truly was a very heroic proclamation.

Tao Zhi didn’t know exactly what on earth they were after.

Li Shuangjiang and Zhao Mingqi were called out by Wang Er for the entire class; you could feel Wang Er’s irritable roar even through a floor. It wasn’t until almost the end of class that the two of them returned.

This matter couldn’t be called very serious, nor could its nature be considered malicious. When Wang Er went to find Wang Zhezi to complain, Wang Zhezi also kept a straight face and restrained himself from laughing out loud for a long time.

In the end, the two of them were each made to write a five-hundred-word self-criticism and were punished to copy math formulas, and that was the end.

Li Shuangjiang wasn’t very good at writing self-criticisms. During the study period, he humbly turned to consult the expert, Tao Zhi.

“This isn’t difficult at all,” Tao Zhi sat against the wall, lazily twirling a pen, “First state once what you did, then say you won’t do it again next time, and that’s it. Only five hundred words—shorter than a composition on the Chinese exam.”

Li Shuangjiang frowned, still a little at a loss: “Expand on that for me.”

Tao Zhi patiently said, “I hung a banner during math class. Because Teacher Wang was careless for a moment and didn’t notice—”

“Wait a moment,” Li Shuangjiang took out a notebook and pen and began to record, “Say it slower.”

“Because Teacher Wang was careless for a moment and didn’t notice, he untied the rope that held the banner, causing the banner to fall over his head in front of the whole class and become the class’s amusement—this turned into a big mistake,” Tao Zhi taught him step by step, “Then express some remorse, and hope Teacher Wang will be a bit more careful in the future so that this kind of thing won’t happen again.”

Li Shuangjiang read over the draft he had written according to Tao Zhi’s words, and it clicked. He said sincerely, “Boss, you’re really just hoping I’ll die sooner.”

Tao Zhi blinked innocently.

Li Shuangjiang remembered the self-criticism speech Tao Zhi had once delivered in front of the whole school after she hit someone, and he felt that asking her how to write this was absurdly stupid. He turned his head and glanced at Jiang Qihuai beside him: “But still, why is Huai-ge sitting up front?”

Before this study period, Tao Zhi had asked Fu Xiling and Jiang Qihuai to swap seats; she herself sat further in at Fu Xiling’s spot, and Jiang Qihuai sat in her place.

When Li Shuangjiang asked like that, Tao Zhi felt a little guilty. She waved the test paper in her hand: “The class monitor is explaining the questions to me.”

Li Shuangjiang understood, nodded, and turned back to continue pondering his self-criticism.

Tao Zhi breathed a sigh of relief and turned her head, only to see Jiang Qihuai looking at her.

She pretended to be calm: “What are you looking at me for? Looking at the questions.”

Jiang Qihuai obediently continued to look at the questions.

Tao Zhi’s gaze fell on the test paper, and she cautiously glanced at him with the corner of her eye.

The feeling of someone sitting in the row in front or behind was completely different from that of a deskmate, and he was sitting behind her.

Tao Zhi couldn’t really see him, but she kept turning her head back, which felt a bit odd.

If he had been sitting beside her, she wouldn’t have needed to turn her head; just shifting her eyes a little to the side would let her see his outline.

But like this, her eyes still got quite tired.

As she kept looking, her head unconsciously turned a little and she watched his profile.