Only the peony is the true national beauty

The morning classes finally ended, and fortunately, Ailiya didn’t come to cause trouble again. Whether it was because his text message had worked or because she had been stopped by the Disciplinary Committee Member or called into the student council for a talk, he couldn’t say. But at least, he could breathe a small sigh of relief.

At noon, he planned to visit the hospital to check his medical records. However, he couldn’t just go straight there—if he ran into Ailiya outside, it would likely stir up another scene in front of other students. So after class, he stationed himself at a vantage point on the sixth floor, observing the stream of students leaving the building until he confirmed Ailiya had left. Otherwise, bumping into her would spell trouble.

Better safe than sorry!

But after watching for over ten minutes, he frowned.

Ailiya was nowhere in sight.

And Ailiya was unmistakable—there was no way he could miss her. Yet, he hadn’t spotted her at all, which meant she was still inside the school building.

"Wait, maybe I should check my phone."

Su Cheng suddenly remembered something and decided to return to his classroom to charge his dead phone.

But just as he passed the stairwell, he faintly heard the sound of crying from above. His footsteps halted as he looked up, realizing the noise was coming from the rooftop.

"Someone’s crying?"

Su Cheng’s expression turned odd. In any story, a school rooftop was a significant setting—whether for battles or confessions.

He shook his head, dismissing the thought, and chose to walk away, heading downstairs instead.

However, just as he was about to leave the floor, he ran into a boy downstairs who looked like a textbook protagonist, complete with a group of sidekick friends, including a chubby one.

"Brother Yikui, aren’t you going to eat?"

"You go ahead. I’ll catch up later."

The boy called Yikui looked anxious. After dismissing his friend, he hurried straight toward the rooftop.

"Good thing I didn’t go up there earlier."

Su Cheng exhaled in relief. As expected, it was a pivotal scene for the protagonist. If he had barged in, he might’ve gotten tangled in some plotline he couldn’t escape, leading to disaster.

Back in the classroom, he plugged in his old phone to charge. Opening his messaging app, he saw Cornelia had sent him several texts early that morning. The messages explained that Ailiya had taken leave to visit her and was now by her side. Cornelia apologized, promised nothing like this would happen again, and asked him to come home early that night.

Reading Cornelia’s apology and assurance, Su Cheng finally relaxed completely. He pocketed his phone and prepared to head to the hospital.

"Brother, I’m fine."

"Don’t say that. Come eat with me."

As soon as he stepped out of the classroom, he nearly collided with a pair—the same protagonist from earlier, now looking stern, clearly deeply concerned about his sister.

And the girl…

When Su Cheng got a clear look at her dignified, beautiful face, he froze for a moment before quickly recognizing her—she was the Disciplinary Committee Member who had helped him that morning!

Her eyes were still red and puffy, clearly from crying. This surprised him. So she had been the one weeping on the rooftop.

The two were deep in conversation and didn’t notice him. He didn’t want to intrude, so he turned his back to them, pretending to admire the scenery. Once they left, he thoughtfully recalled the scene.

"Turns out, she wasn’t as unaffected as she seemed."

This left Su Cheng feeling complicated. After all, she had faced malicious rumors because of him. Though it was her duty, he couldn’t just shrug it off. He wasn’t the type to take kindness for granted or forget his principles.

If someone helped him, he would repay them. Even if the debt was as thin as paper, he would remember it and return the favor tenfold when the time came.

Why wait? Today was as good a day as any.

An anonymous thank-you letter would do.

But first, the hospital.

About twenty minutes later, Su Cheng stood in front of the school hospital’s self-service records terminal, checking his medical history. To his surprise, there was no record of any diagnosis.

"Strange…"

He muttered to himself. Was the system glitching?

He searched again, but the result was the same.

"Why is there no record?"

Su Cheng couldn’t make sense of it. A condition as serious as his heart disease should’ve been logged immediately upon diagnosis—unless it had been a misdiagnosis, or someone was deliberately hiding it.

But who would do such a thing for no reason?

He couldn’t figure it out.

This was both good and bad for him. Good, because it meant no hospitalization. Bad, because he couldn’t purchase certain sensitive medications.

"Maybe it just hasn’t been uploaded yet. I’ll check again tomorrow."

With a sigh, he logged out and left.

After exiting the hospital, he stopped by the school store to buy a loaf of bread and an envelope. Then, sitting in a pavilion, he ate while drafting his thank-you letter.

He decided to slip the letter secretly into the Disciplinary Committee Member’s desk drawer or shoe locker. As for her class and seat number, he could ask Cornelia—they were classmates, after all.

Once finished, he folded the letter, slipped it into the envelope, and tucked it into his inner pocket. But as he prepared to leave, he felt like something was missing.

"Hmm…"

Then, his gaze landed on a secluded corner where a greenhouse stood. His eyes lit up.

That’s it—flowers!

If he tucked a carnation into the envelope, the letter would be perfect!

Excited, he rushed to the greenhouse’s guard booth and asked the worker inside with a smile, "Excuse me, how much for a carnation?"

The woman in the booth had a cold, poker-faced expression and seemed utterly uninterested in Su Cheng’s presence.

But upon hearing his question, she replied mechanically, "Not for sale. Please leave—"

"Let him in."

Before she could finish, a clear, authoritative voice rang out from inside the greenhouse. The woman’s expression shifted slightly before she respectfully gestured to Su Cheng. "Go ahead."

"Thank you."

Though puzzled, Su Cheng politely nodded and stepped inside.

Inside, he looked around in awe. The greenhouse was filled with rare and exotic plants, some even blooming out of season—something that genuinely surprised him.

At the far end stood a graceful figure in a white dress, her back turned as she admired the flowers. Yet, her entire presence exuded nobility, elegance, and an intimidating aura that made others hesitate to approach.

Gulp.

Su Cheng swallowed hard, thinking of the phrase "commanding presence." It was a kind of natural authority, an overwhelming force carried in her very bones.

"Um… I’d like to buy a carnation," Su Cheng mustered his courage and spoke carefully.

"Choose one yourself." The woman’s voice remained indifferent, devoid of any fluctuation.

Relieved, Su Cheng hurried over to a flowerbed, crouched down, and snipped a single carnation with a pair of scissors.

He looked up and smiled at the lady in gratitude. "Thank you. How much should I pay for this?"

"Flowers are priceless. How would you price them?"

The aloof lady remained with her back turned to him.

"Well... but I’ve already taken it, and I can’t exactly put it back. Should I return another flower of the same kind?" Su Cheng shook his head, unsure of her stance. Just as he was racking his brain over how to make amends, she spoke again.

"Consider today’s matter fate... Repay me with a peony instead."

Her voice was calm, almost icy, and her posture remained unchanged, exuding an air of detachment.

"A peony?" Su Cheng paused, then quickly caught on. "Ah, yes—of course."

"Not just any peony. I’ve heard the head of the Practice Department possesses a vial of the Water of Life. What I need is a peony nourished by its drops. If you’re sincere, bring that to me."