Although the contestant on her side wasn’t her, and the opponent wasn’t Jiang Qihuai, that didn’t matter. At least Jiang Qihuai’s desk and all his belongings had joined the battle, and she hadn’t lifted a single finger.
Sometimes victory just came that easily.
She stood against the wall, watching the man who usually couldn’t even be bothered to lift his eyelashes. Now he stood expressionlessly at the doorway, gaze lowering with his physics paper as it fell, eyelids drooping, the corners of his lips faintly downturned, the line of his jaw tightening for an instant. The veins on the back of his thin hand bulged faintly.
The next second, Jiang Qihuai turned his head and looked at her.
He stood at the doorway, she leaned against the wall. At such a short distance, Tao Zhi finally saw, in those pale, glass-like eyes of his, something that could be called emotion.
He was displeased.
Once she confirmed that, Tao Zhi instantly felt pleased.
She blinked twice at him, her face all innocence, as if silently saying—Don’t look at me, I didn’t do anything.
Then she even shook her head seriously. “Impulsive.”
Tao Zhi sighed. “You boys are sometimes just too impulsive.”
She had completely washed her hands of it.
Over there, the impulsive one—Song Jiang—got up and threw another punch at the non-mainstream boy. A paper on the floor tore under their feet. The non-mainstream boy cursed, scrambled up, and just as he raised his arm, Wang Zhezi appeared behind Jiang Qihuai: “What are you doing! Fighting in the classroom! Huh?! Stop it, all of you!!”
The two hot-blooded high school boys froze mid-action at the shout. Song Jiang had a bit of a bruise on his face, but compared to him, the non-mainstream boy looked much worse—nose swollen, face bruised, standing there miserably.
Neither of them belonged to Class Two, yet they had chosen to fight inside its classroom. Wang Zhezi took them away while calling for their homeroom teachers.
The room fell silent at once. Fu Xiling still clutched her chopsticks, shrunken in her seat, too scared to speak.
Jiang Qihuai stood where he was, motionless.
Tao Zhi looked around at the empty space at the back of the classroom. When it had been crowded earlier, she hadn’t noticed, but now seeing it clearly—Jiang Qihuai’s things scattered all over the floor really did look pitiful.
When she had kicked his desk leg earlier, she hadn’t thought that far. She and Song Jiang were long-time partners in chaos—perfect coordination, no need for words.
And besides, in fights, what mattered most was getting the first move.
In the hush that followed, she watched as Jiang Qihuai finally moved. He silently went over, lifted the desk back upright with a kick, then picked up the scattered papers and books one by one, tossing them onto the desk.
Then, Jiang Qihuai went to fish his schoolbag out of the water bucket.
The bucket wasn’t large, and his bag was fairly wide, hanging crookedly over the rim, half-soaked.
He gripped the strap, lifted it up, the black bag dripping steadily. When the dripping stopped, he unzipped it, pulled out the damp papers and textbooks, and threw them into the trash can beside him.
Throughout the entire process, he didn’t say a single word. The sleeve of his uniform jacket was wet where it brushed against the bag, and since the water was dirty, the stain stood out clearly on the white fabric. His fingers were wet too.
Even someone as heartless as Tao Zhi couldn’t help feeling a rare twinge of guilt after the satisfaction had passed.
And also guilty—she kept feeling that Jiang Qihuai somehow knew what she had done, only that he couldn’t be bothered to say it.
Whether she had meant to or not, it was her who had kicked his desk over.
Tao Zhi wanted to speak several times, but didn’t know what to say. She wasn’t good at dealing with such unfamiliar situations.
No one spoke. The air was thick with stiffness and tension.
Fu Xiling finally recovered, and raised her hand to poke Tao Zhi lightly on the back across the desk.
Tao Zhi turned her head and saw the girl secretly passing her a packet of tissues from below.
What for?
Tao Zhi looked at her in confusion.
I didn’t even cry.
Fu Xiling blinked at her frantically, full of hints, then glanced toward Jiang Qihuai.
Tao Zhi suddenly understood. She took the tissues and turned around.
After hesitating for a moment, she gently placed the packet on his desk.
Jiang Qihuai lowered his eyes. His gaze rested on it for a brief second, showing no sign of taking it.
He wasn’t exactly a good-tempered person, and right now he really was holding back a fire—irritated, restless.
But the two girls in front of him kept staring, as if waiting for him to respond.
Jiang Qihuai paused.
“Thanks,” he said flatly, shifting his gaze away, his voice cool and emotionless.
Tao Zhi rubbed her nose, momentarily unsure how to reply.
Jiang Qihuai didn’t seem inclined to continue the conversation either. He picked up his bag and walked out of the classroom.
In the silence that followed, Tao Zhi turned back to Fu Xiling and asked in confirmation, “He’s mad, isn’t he?”
Fu Xiling nodded. “I think… a little.”
Tao Zhi nodded too. “He didn’t even use the tissue we gave him.”
“Because he’s angry,” Fu Xiling coaxed, “but he still said thank you. That’s him saving face for a girl, so don’t be mad either. It’s just the start of the term, you’ll all be classmates for the next two years.”
Tao Zhi said nothing, her gaze falling on the pile of tattered, dirty books and papers on Jiang Qihuai’s desk. In her mind, she suddenly recalled the form she had seen him filling out in the office earlier.
It had only flashed before her eyes for a moment—she’d barely glanced at it—but she had still caught the few words written on top.
It was an Application for Financial Aid.
✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦
After Jiang Qihuai left at noon, he never came back. After the first class in the afternoon, Tao Zhi went around each subject teacher’s office, one by one, until finally arriving at Wang Zhezi’s.
Wang Zhezi was there with Song Jiang and the non-mainstream boy’s homeroom teacher. When she came in, Wang Zhezi saw her and called out, “Tao Zhi—good, you’re here. Go call Fu Xiling for me.”
Tao Zhi answered, and as Wang Zhezi turned his head, she glared at Song Jiang.
—You even snitched on a girl too?
Song Jiang had a bruise on his face. He’d just come back from the school infirmary, with a small square of white gauze stuck to the left side of his face—his appearance a little ridiculous.
He spread his hands innocently, made a gesture of zipping his mouth shut, and pointed at the non-mainstream boy beside him.
The meaning was clear: It wasn’t me who said it.
Tao Zhi clicked her tongue inwardly, glanced at the non-mainstream boy whose face was swollen like a pig’s head, and thought the beating he got was still far too light.
During lunch, she had asked Fu Xiling for the details. That non-mainstream boy wasn’t bad-looking, and his family probably had some money. Apparently, he was doing quite well among the small crowd of seniors, changing girlfriends frequently.
Then somehow, he had taken a liking to little cabbage Fu Xiling. He had pestered her endlessly, calling her schoolmate this and schoolmate that every day, blocking the classroom door during lunch break and after school, constantly delivering milk tea and snacks. The more Fu Xiling refused him, the more excited he got, even often saying all sorts of disgusting things.
After one class, Fu Xiling came back with red eyes. Tao Zhi’s desk was spread with white test papers; she was stacking them neatly, and as she moved them aside, she glanced up. “You cried?”
“No,” Fu Xiling shook her head. “I explained everything clearly to Teacher Wang. He probably won’t punish your friend. He was just helping me.”
“The reason doesn’t matter. He still threw a punch. Getting scolded and punished for fighting is normal, he’s long used to it.” Tao Zhi didn’t think much of it. After Fu Xiling went in and sat down, she continued sorting her papers, speaking with practiced familiarity. “Next, they’ll call in the parents to see both sides’ attitude, make them write a reflection, have them apologize publicly during Monday’s flag-raising ceremony, and maybe assign a few weeks of cleaning duty. The fight wasn’t that serious, they probably won’t record a demerit.”
Fu Xiling recalled how the non-mainstream boy’s eye was so swollen it had practically disappeared into a slit, and couldn’t help wondering what kind of fight would count as serious in Tao Zhi’s eyes.
The whole afternoon, all the way until dismissal, Jiang Qihuai never came back.
These days, Tao Xiuping happened to be staying home a little longer than usual. That evening, he picked Tao Zhi up from school as always. The moment the girl got into the car, he sensed that his little princess wasn’t in her usual mood.
She didn’t seem very happy.
“Chestnut cream puff today,” Tao Xiuping said.
“Oh.” Tao Zhi responded softly, lowering her head to fasten her seatbelt, not even turning to take it.
She didn’t pounce onto the backseat, nor did she say he was the best dad in the world or that he looked like Daniel Wu.
Tao Xiuping steered with one hand and reached over to ruffle her hair. “What’s this? Who upset our princess today?”
Tao Zhi stayed silent.
“Got into another fight?” he guessed. “Anyone end up in the hospital?”
Tao Zhi lifted her head in displeasure.
Tao Xiuping chuckled, teasing on purpose. “What, didn’t win this time?”
“I didn’t fight anyone. It’s only been a few days since term started, how could I cause trouble that fast?”
“True,” Tao Xiuping nodded seriously, half teasing, half sincere. “Our Zhizhi is such a well-behaved kid who never stirs up trouble. Usually it’s others who start with you first.”
Tao Zhi sighed. “Song Jiang got into a fight today.”
“Mm, and then?” Tao Xiuping asked patiently.
“He knocked over the desk of that annoying bastard who sits behind me,” Tao Zhi admitted frankly, “but I was the one who kicked it over.”
Tao Xiuping: “…Don’t swear.”
Tao Zhi recalled the noon disaster. “Then his papers and books all fell to the floor. The books got dirty, and a lot of the papers were stepped on and torn.”
“…”
“His schoolbag even fell into a water bucket. Everything inside got soaked.”
“…That is pretty miserable,” Tao Xiuping said dryly.
“And then he got mad,” Tao Zhi concluded at last. “Even though he’s a jerk, I don’t think he deserved that much.”
“He didn’t hit you?” Tao Xiuping asked, looking at his daughter with genuine curiosity.
Tao Zhi said expressionlessly, “He doesn’t know it was me.”
Tao Xiuping almost laughed but held it in. “Mm… Dad doesn’t really know what to say about this, but if he didn’t do anything especially bad, I think you could be a bit more magnanimous. No need to hold a grudge, he’s already had it rough enough.”
He knew his daughter’s personality all too well—most likely she felt a bit guilty but was too prideful to admit it out loud.
So he gave her a step down. And Tao Zhi, reasoning it out for herself, accepted it with ease. “Alright then. I won’t hold it against him.”
✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦
After thinking things through, Tao Zhi’s mood improved considerably. That night, after dinner and a wash, she slept soundly. The next morning, she woke up early and asked Tao Xiuping to drive her to school.
He hadn’t even fully woken up when he heard her knocking on the door. After a quick wash and a yawn, he went downstairs to the garage to get the car.
When she arrived at the classroom, there were only a few students seated. Tao Zhi bent down to check inside her desk compartment.
She hesitated for a moment, then pulled out a thick stack of books. Turning around, she was just about to place them on Jiang Qihuai’s desk when—
The back door of the classroom opened, and Jiang Qihuai walked in.
His desk was just a few steps from the back door. His gaze immediately landed on her as he lowered his eyes slightly. “What are you doing?”
Tao Zhi froze, the stack of books still hovering above his desk.
Why the hell did this guy come so early today?!
Doesn’t he usually cut it down to the damn minute?!
She stiffened awkwardly in place, unsure whether to put the books down or not.
The two of them stayed frozen for five whole seconds.
Since he’d already seen her, Tao Zhi decided to just go all in. Her face set and her jaw tight, she silently dropped the stack of books onto his desk.
The books were heavy—they landed with a solid thud.
Jiang Qihuai raised an eyebrow. “What’s this?”
“See for yourself,” Tao Zhi muttered.
Without looking at him, she turned away and sat back down, all in one swift motion.
Jiang Qihuai pulled out his chair and sat too. Casually, he flipped open the stack of books she had placed there. The one on top was a brand-new English textbook. Beneath it were freshly issued books and exercise workbooks for every subject from the start of the term.
The pile of torn-up, filthy materials from yesterday was nowhere to be seen.
As soon as he opened the first book, the girl in front of him suddenly turned around again—expressionless—and thumped two more thick stacks of test papers onto his desk.
Jiang Qihuai looked at the papers that had landed with two loud slaps. Judging by their thickness, they were probably every test paper from the first week of school.
All of them brand new.
She had gotten him new textbooks and new test papers.
Jiang Qihuai froze for a moment, finally realizing what was happening. He looked up at her.
The girl in front had her black hair neatly tied into a ponytail. Her head shifted a little, uneasy, and the tips of her exposed ears were faintly red.
Then, for the third time, Tao Zhi reached her hand backward.
This time she didn’t turn around. With her hand behind her back, she held a thin sheet of paper and, feeling her way slowly, placed it on top of the thick stack of test papers in front of him.
Perhaps because she couldn’t see from that angle and wasn’t sure if it was crooked, her small hand extended a slender, pale finger and pressed the tip against the paper, gently pushing it forward in his direction.
The thin paper inched forward a little, stopped, then inched again—until it came to rest right beneath his eyes.
Her fingertip lightly scratched at the paper twice, then tapped it, signaling him to look.
Jiang Qihuai lowered his gaze.
It was a gingerbread man–shaped sticky note. On the little figure’s stomach, two large, messy characters were scrawled in wild handwriting—reckless and lawless, just like her.
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