The Top Female Student in Black Stockings Actually Secretly...

Su Bai looked up and froze in place.

Before him stood a stunning beauty with long, straight black hair—the cool, elegant type. Tall and slender, she wore a simple T-shirt paired with a chiffon maxi skirt, beneath which peeked a glimpse of black stockings and petite leather shoes.

It was mid-September in Jiangcheng, still lingering at summer’s tail end.

Any girl bold enough to wear black stockings and leather shoes in this weather was a warrior.

The usual outcome? Half a day in, and they’d be stewing in their own sweat.

Yet this girl carried no unpleasant odor. Instead, a faint, refined fragrance wafted from her, giving off an air of untouchable elegance—like a flower blooming on a distant peak.

"What did you just say?" Su Bai asked.

No helping it. She was too pretty; his brain short-circuited.

"I said, the computer you’re about to buy? Not worth it."

The girl pointed at the image on the tablet. "The brand markup’s too high. You’d save about 30% if you bought the parts and assembled it yourself."

Seriously, sis.

I’d gladly pay that extra 30%! The brand premium is the whole point!

Who even cuts into a stranger’s spending like this out of nowhere?

Su Bai mentally grumbled but kept a polite smile. "It’s fine. I just like this brand—nostalgia, you know? But thanks for the heads-up."

"Alright. Then at least wait for the national subsidy. It should drop soon, and you’d save a few thousand."

"...Wait, do we know each other? Why are you so invested in my finances?"

"You’re Su Bai. We’re in the same class."

"Oh!"

Su Bai smacked his forehead.

After a beat of silence, he asked, "And you are…?"

A month into the semester, and here was a classmate—a gorgeous one at that—who remembered his name, while he hadn’t the faintest clue who she was.

Awkward. Brutally awkward.

Luckily, she didn’t seem the type to throw a tantrum over forgotten names, unlike some anime noblewoman. Calmly, she replied, "Chen Yusheng. ‘Rain’ for ‘Yu,’ ‘bamboo flute’ for ‘Sheng.’"

"Got it."

"We’re in the same physics lab group. Since we’ll be working on reports together, let’s swap WeChat."

"Sure!"

Funny enough, just days ago, Chu Mingzhe had been racking his brain for a "natural, effortless" way to get Chen Yusheng’s WeChat.

Who’d have thought Su Bai, of all people in Dorm 510, would be the first to score her contact?

Hilarious, really.

Not that it was a big deal. It was 2023—adding someone on WeChat was as mundane as it got, especially among classmates. Group projects, club activities, event payments… plenty of excuses to exchange contacts.

Chu Mingzhe just had this unrealistic romantic fantasy, as if every step of getting to know a girl needed to be wrapped in pink bubbles.

Kind of ridiculous.

No wonder everyone jokingly called him "Lord of Shanghai"—the guy radiated unintentional comedy.

Su Bai mused over dorm antics as he absentmindedly pulled up his WeChat QR code for Chen Yusheng to scan.

"Huh? I’ve already added you?"

"Really? I don’t remember. What’s your profile pic?"

"Anime girl with purple hair."

"Ah, let me check… um…"

Silence fell between them.

Chen Yusheng clutched her phone, her long lashes fluttering slightly.

She glanced at the newly added "Big White Goose" avatar from earlier that morning, then back at Su Bai in front of her.

Even her naturally icy, expressionless face couldn’t hold back the flush creeping up her cheeks. Toe-curling embarrassment.

Credit to Su Bai for keeping his cool. He broke the tension first.

"Seriously, sis, you use your real account? It’s the digital age—gotta have some anti-doxxing sense. Who uses their main for side gigs?"

"I told you, I never add clients on WeChat. You’re the first." Chen Yusheng’s tone dripped with quiet resentment. "How was I supposed to know my monthly client would turn out to be a classmate?"

"..."

The moment those words left her mouth,

the atmosphere shifted.

Suddenly, inexplicably… charged.

Su Bai quickly steered the conversation away. "Make a burner account next time. For situations like this."

"...Yeah."

"Which part of the lab are you handling? Hands-on or data?"

"Data. I’m not great with hands-on stuff."

"Wait, you’re working for Professor Luo, right? How’s your hands-on skill lacking?"

"Computer research doesn’t usually require it."

"Oh."

And then, silence again.

Su Bai considered himself socially adept. The issue clearly lay with Chen Yusheng. Her "cool and aloof" persona during her side gig? That was just her actual personality.

Outwardly icy, inwardly… a bit of a dork.

Her relentless crusade against Su Bai’s overpriced gaming laptop purchase said it all.

Thankfully, the professor at the podium chose that moment to announce the start of the lab, saving them further awkwardness.

The classroom quieted.

Cue the soul-sucking monotony of PowerPoint slides and safety disclaimers.

As any college student knows, lectures by senior professors are the hardest to stomach.

Zero passion, all technicalities.

Delivered in a thick, unplaceable Jiangcheng-region accent, the convoluted physics terms rolled off the professor’s tongue like some eldritch incantation.

Chen Yusheng, still reeling from earlier, soon found herself swaying drowsily under the soporific drone.

She’d been running on severe sleep deprivation.

Before long, Su Bai noticed her head bobbing—then watched as she slumped forward, fast asleep.

Just as the professor paused his robotic recital to scan the room, his hawk-like gaze landed on their table.

"Young lady in the second-to-last row! Answer this question!"

A piece of chalk sailed through the air, landing with a sharp tink on the desk in front of Chen Yusheng.

She jolted awake, scrambling to her feet.

Blankly, she stared at the blackboard.

"Summarize the key precautions for measuring [XX constant]."

"..."

Under the table, Su Bai nudged her stockinged thigh with his pen, then slid the lab manual to a specific page, angling it subtly for her to see.

Chen Yusheng caught on, skimming the text from the corner of her eye before clearing her throat.

"The main precautions are threefold. First..."

The professor nodded. "Good. Solid fundamentals. Sit down. Everyone, this course counts toward your required credits, so do take it seriously..."

And back to the lecture drone he went.

Once the actual lab work began and chatter resumed, Chen Yusheng seized the chance to whisper, "Thanks."

"No problem."

"You’re impressive. How’d you stay awake through that?"

"...Honestly? I wasn’t listening either. Just lucked out on knowing the answer."

"Oh."

Truth was, Su Bai had zoned out during the lecture.

His system deemed it an act of slacking off—and rewarded him with 1,000 yuan.

It even threw in a bonus: wiping away the "negative effects" of his inattention by dumping all the relevant lab knowledge straight into his brain.

Not bad.

At least now he wouldn’t be clueless during the experiment.

While the other students were still fumbling and scratching their heads in frustration, Su Bai had already finished the experiment. Chen Yusheng recorded the data, and the two of them would later collaborate to complete the lab report—easy as pie.

What a hassle.

No wonder every year’s seniors would rant endlessly about this godforsaken University Physics Lab.

But for Su Bai, it didn’t matter.

If he just left it alone, the power of the System would make the lab report write itself.

Ah, System-kun! Daddy loves you!

And so, Su Bai and Chen Yusheng’s group got to leave class early.

Chen Yusheng let out a sigh of relief, looking at Su Bai with gratitude in her eyes.

Not only had he saved her from embarrassment in class, but he’d also finished the experiment so quickly, saving her time.

Now she could hurry off to Professor Luo’s lab for her part-time job.

But…

There was still one thing bothering Chen Yusheng.

In the hallway, just as Su Bai was about to slip away, Chen Yusheng called out to him from behind.

“Wait!”

“What’s up?”

“I…” Chen Yusheng hesitated, stammering in a small voice, “About me being a… companion gamer…”

Su Bai couldn’t hold back a laugh. “Pfft—seriously? Sis, you didn’t actually think I was the type to go, ‘You wouldn’t want your classmates to know you’re a companion gamer, now would you, Miss Chen?’”

“……”

“Relax, I’m not some gossipy busybody. I’ll keep your secret—it’s basic client etiquette.”

“Thanks.”

After a pause, Chen Yusheng still seemed uneasy. “Really?”

Su Bai sighed dramatically. “What, do you need to get on your knees and beg me to believe it? ‘Oh, please, I’m begging you, don’t tell anyone! I’ll do anything!’”

Maybe it was his exaggerated tone, but Chen Yusheng actually cracked a genuine smile—a rare sight.

At that moment, Su Bai finally understood why the other students said Chen Yusheng was expressionless, that she never smiled.

And honestly? She shouldn’t smile.

Because when she did?

Damn.

It was like getting flashbanged by sheer charm.

But just as Su Bai was momentarily paralyzed by her radiant smile, Chen Yusheng caught a faint trace of something familiar in him.

A… kindred spirit.

She wasn’t entirely sure, but after interacting with Su Bai both online and offline, her impression of him was… pretty good.

So, she decided to test the waters.

Hesitantly, she asked,

“Earlier… what did you say?”

“Uh… that I’d keep your secret?”

“After that!”

“Huh?”

Su Bai was confused.

Chen Yusheng floundered, her already shaky communication skills failing her.

“That thing you said, the—the meme, was it from that anime, the uh—”

Su Bai’s eyes lit up. “Oh! ‘Onegai, watashi?’”

“Yes, yes!”

“No way, you’re into that too?!”

“Mhm!!”