Crisis Awareness

Wednesday.

Lin Mo watched Jiang Yunlu yawn. Jiang Yunlu, noticing him staring, immediately covered her face.

“Go away! Why are you watching me yawn? Pervert, jerk, shut up!”

Jiang Yunlu almost reached out to physically turn Lin Mo’s head away.

“Up late training again, huh? Diligent as always,” Lin Mo said casually.

“I’m going to catch up to you. I refuse to be dead weight!”

Xie Yuling glanced over briefly, then lowered her head to the practice problems Lin Mo had brought back from Tianjing.

At her current level, she could solve these problems too. If she entered the competition, she’d probably be one of the six contenders.

But Xie Yuling had no intention of showing off. She knew she couldn’t protect herself yet, so staying in the shadows was safer. Even during the monthly exams, she deliberately adjusted her scores to fly under the radar.

As for Chu Miaomiao, she was scribbling away—probably working on her novel.

The bell rang.

Lin Mo raised an eyebrow, his gaze shifting toward the door.

“They’re here.”

Jiang Yunlu and the other two looked up in unison.

“Is that Fang Jun’s childhood friend?”

“Cough—neighbor, neighbor. Don’t say that. If Fang Jun hears, he’ll kill me.”

Lin Mo hadn’t kept anything from them about what had happened; he’d ratted Fang Jun out without a second thought.

Lin Mo turned to look at Fang Jun, who was sitting in his seat reading a book, completely unaware of what was about to hit him.

Two figures appeared at the classroom door.

Chen Xiaoya walked in first, followed by a girl with a ponytail.

She wore the long-sleeved school uniform jacket, sleeves rolled up to her elbows, revealing a slender forearm. Her backpack hung from one shoulder as she walked with a light, brisk step.

The entire class turned to look.

“Uh—another transfer student?”

The comment was murmured loud enough for everyone nearby to hear.

A few boys exchanged glances, their expressions far from welcoming.

The last transfer student had stirred up enough trouble, so everyone was a bit on edge. If Luo Ruiyu hadn’t been a girl, the reaction might have been even harsher. The boys muttered but at least didn’t show open hostility—some things were just the way of the world.

Chen Xiaoya led the girl to the front of the podium and clapped her hands to quiet the room.

She wasn’t worried, because she already knew Luo Ruiyu was someone Lin Mo knew. That meant no trouble, at least according to what Director Liu had told her.

Luo Ruiyu was confident. She scanned the classroom with steady eyes, unflinching, and introduced herself.

“I’m Luo Ruiyu, transferring here from Mianhu. Actually, I went to middle school nearby before. Family stuff made me go back to my hometown for a while, but now I’m back.”

She paused and smiled. “I guess you could say I took a little detour and came back. Hope we get along.”

Short and to the point. Compared to the shyer students, this girl had much better communication skills.

The murmuring in the room died down a little.

Chen Xiaoya looked around the classroom, scanning the empty and half-empty seats. Her eyes finally settled on the spot next to Fang Jun.

Hao Qiang was leaning over his desk, whispering something to Fang Jun. Fang Jun didn’t even look up, not saying a word in response.

Hao Qiang didn’t seem to mind, mumbling on without pause.

Chen Xiaoya swept her gaze across the room. “You’ll sit…”

“Hao Qiang.”

“Huh?”

“Move to the back,” Chen Xiaoya pointed to the empty seats left by Zhou Nianqian and the others. “Luo Ruiyu, you sit next to Fang Jun.”

It was a command, with no room for negotiation.

Hao Qiang froze.

“Teacher, why? Fang Jun also has…”

“Has what?”

Chen Xiaoya cut him off. “Every time I walk by your row, you’re the only one running your mouth. Fang Jun doesn’t even respond, but you can still put on a one-man show for half a class.”

The whole class burst into laughter.

A few boys in the know doubled over. It was true. Hao Qiang talked too much. Fang Jun had been acting cool and quiet after his breakup, so the contrast between Hao Qiang’s endless chatter and Fang Jun’s silence was absurd.

Hao Qiang felt like he’d swallowed bitter medicine. But one look at Chen Xiaoya’s expression—daring him to say another word—and he resigned himself to packing up his stuff.

He shoved his books into his backpack. As he passed by Fang Jun, he deliberately paused and whispered, “Bro Fang, you did me dirty.”

Fang Jun finally raised an eyebrow, giving him a “what does this have to do with me” look.

Hao Qiang shook his head in agony and dragged his backpack to the back of the room.

He couldn’t understand it—Fang Jun had been brooding in silence all this time, and yet he was the one paying the price.

What kind of world was this?

Luo Ruiyu walked over with her backpack, setting it down in the seat next to Fang Jun. Once settled, she turned to look at him.

“What’s up?”

Fang Jun paused, the book in his hand freezing.

“Not happy to see me?”

Fang Jun looked up and saw that familiar face she knew so well. A mechanical grin spread across his face.

“Welcome, welcome. A big, warm welcome.”

“Hmph! So boring. Dinner at your place tonight.”

“Are you really not afraid of death?”

Fang Jun’s expression finally started to show some life. “Let’s eat out. My mom’s cooking—you remember the ribs last time, don’t you?”

“The ones with a lethal amount of salt? How could I forget?”

“Yeah, that. My dad’s face was twisted the whole time.”

“Alright, then we’ll eat out. You’re paying.”

“Why me?”

“Because I’m your deskmate. Can’t you even buy me dinner?”

Fang Jun didn’t say anything, but the curve of his lips gave him away. The dead-eyed, menacing look he’d worn all morning had crumbled effortlessly. The two of them chatted like nobody else existed, completely oblivious to the stares surrounding them.

Lin Mo sat in his own seat, propping his chin on his hand as he watched. The pen cap in his mouth gave him a sly, amused smile.

Jiang Yunlu leaned in and whispered, “Fang Jun’s expression does look a bit more relaxed, huh.”

“Yeah. This should help him forget Cai Junhuang.” Lin Mo clicked his tongue. “Though let’s hope it doesn’t backfire and flip who’s chasing who.”

On the other side of the classroom, near the window.

Cai Junhuang gripped her pen, her gaze shifting from the textbook to that direction.

She was too far to hear what Fang Jun and the new girl were saying. She only saw both of their mouths moving, chatting away enthusiastically.

Fang Jun smiled.

She couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen him smile in class.

Her pen dragged across the scratch paper in a meaningless line. Cai Junhuang lowered her eyes, turned the page, and continued working on her problems.

She adjusted her grip on the pen, but the words she wrote came out as neat as before.

Nothing had changed.

And yet, the corner of her mouth still twitched downward slightly.

Even she didn’t notice.