Ji Zican was truly furious.
The kind of furious that burned deep and hot.
Since childhood, countless girls had wanted to be his girlfriend.
Class beauties, grade-level beauties, school beauties—what didn’t he have?
Yet he had never agreed to any of them.
Now, for the first time, he had generously given Chen Xiaoxiao a chance, and she actually told him to wipe his nosebleed first?!
Did she not realize that the only reason she had been forced to run the 3,000-meter race was because her classmates had ganged up to bully her?
Ji Zican yanked the tissue out of his nose and stormed out of the infirmary.
The first thing he did after leaving was summon a group of his lackeys.
“After school, drag Chen Xiaoxiao into an alley and beat her up—hard!” Ji Zican gritted his teeth.
His lackeys were practically ready to celebrate.
Young Master Ji was finally going to take action against Chen Xiaoxiao.
He had been angered by her countless times already. It was a miracle he had held back this long!
But before their joy could last three seconds—
“Wait.” Ji Zican frowned and raised his right hand.
“Who came up with the idea to force Chen Xiaoxiao to run the 3,000 meters?” His anger was even more palpable now.
“It… it was Sister Zhen.”
“Then forget about Chen Xiaoxiao today. Beat up Ding Zhen first.” Ji Zican waved dismissively before turning and heading back to the classroom with a scowl.
Chen Xiaoxiao had fainted earlier. Beating her up now might actually cause serious harm.
Better to save that debt for later and settle it with her slowly.
As for Ding Zhen—he had long disliked her.
She flaunted her family’s wealth and influence to bully others at school.
As the most powerful student leader, he had to occasionally punish evil and uphold justice to maintain his reputation.
It definitely wasn’t because he disliked Ding Zhen for scheming with the sports committee to force Chen Xiaoxiao into the race.
Nor was it because he had overheard Ding Zhen bullying Chen Xiaoxiao in the bathroom last time.
Absolutely not.
—
The next day, Yao Zuizui stood outside the school store, gnawing on an ice pop, when she spotted Ji Zican walking toward her with a red-and-white race number pinned to his chest.
Clad in spiked shoes and athletic shorts, his arms and legs sculpted with lean muscle, he exuded the unrestrained energy of youth.
Girls around Yao Zuizui whispered excitedly: “Young Master Ji’s figure is amazing!” “Is he looking at me?”
Yao Zuizui ignored them, focused entirely on her ice pop.
It was mango-flavored—sweet and tangy, absolutely delicious.
Ji Zican stopped in front of her and glanced disdainfully at her ice pop. “Here to watch me warm up?”
“…” Yao Zuizui lifted her ice pop and stepped around him.
Undeterred, Ji Zican called after her, “Planning to watch me sprint at the finish line? If you go now, you can grab a good spot.”
So Chen Xiaoxiao actually cared about his events.
Ji Zican decided to add another 0.5 points to her score.
On the track, sweat and passion flew as the starting gun fired. Ji Zican shot forward like an arrow.
Sports had always been his strongest suit.
Every year, he signed up for the 200-meter dash and won without fail.
But this year, he ran faster and with more drive than ever.
Just imagining Chen Xiaoxiao’s awestruck gaze at the finish line made his blood burn.
The announcer droned on with motivational speeches.
The scorching sun leached moisture from every runner.
Time seemed to slow.
Ji Zican fixed his eyes on the red tape ahead and sprinted.
…
He won, of course.
Drenched in sweat, he gulped down a bottle of water while scanning the crowd.
Then he frowned and checked again.
Chen Xiaoxiao wasn’t there.
He was furious.
Seething, Ji Zican headed to his next event—the men’s triple jump.
His mind replayed their conversation before the race.
He had leaned over his desk, repeating his event schedule multiple times.
She had been scribbling something, but he distinctly remembered her soft, drawn-out “Mm” at the end.
He thought she would come.
In his rage, Ji Zican forced himself to rationalize.
She must have mixed up the times—she probably thought he was jumping first.
She was definitely waiting for him by the sandpit right now.
With a dark expression, Ji Zican rushed to the triple jump area.
But… after three sweeps of the crowd, there was still no sign of Chen Xiaoxiao.
Ji Zican was ready to erupt.
She had clearly agreed to watch!
What he didn’t know was that Yao Zuizui hadn’t heard a word of his rambling that day.
Her absentminded “Mm” had been a reaction to solving a difficult problem—not an acknowledgment of his schedule.
…
Ji Zican competed in the triple jump in a daze.
Another first place.
Boring.
Everything felt dull.
Even his anger felt different—muted, deflated.
He trudged back to the classroom.
At the rear door, he spotted Chen Xiaoxiao.
She sat at her desk, as always, buried in practice problems!
The sweltering heat, the sluggish fan, even the stray hair clinging to her forehead—all seemed to mock him.
Wishful thinking!
She hadn’t spared a single thought for his race.
Her heart belonged to studying alone!
Ji Zican’s face burned. For the first time, anger wasn’t the dominant emotion. Instead, his chest ached with a strange, heavy fullness, like a balloon about to burst.
Yao Zuizui’s head was bowed, revealing the pale curve of her neck. Her uniform sleeves were rolled up, her slender forearms gleaming as her pen twirled.
A few classmates chatted lazily at their seats.
Uncharacteristically, Ji Zican didn’t disrupt the peaceful scene.
He turned away numbly, nearly tripping over a hallway trash can.
Downstairs, his lackeys found him.
Alarmed by his distracted state, they swarmed around him.
“Young Master Ji, what’s wrong? Did someone piss you off again?”
“Want us to drag them out after school and teach them a lesson?”
“Just say the word, Young Master Ji! Don’t bottle it up!”
Their concern snapped Ji Zican back to reality. He shook his head.
His brows knitted into a deep frown.
He did want to hit someone.
But who?
Could he drag “studying” into an alley and beat it up?
A profound sense of helplessness washed over him.
What did studying have that he didn’t?
Why did Chen Xiaoxiao prefer it over him?
What was so great about studying anyway?
Even if she studied forever and got into Tsinghua or Peking University, she’d still end up working for his family’s company!
Fuming, Ji Zican kicked over every trash can in his path, venting his frustration.
—
Summer break approached, the air thick with heat.
The classroom fan spun lazily overhead, while cicadas outside screeched endlessly.
The day before final exams, students rearranged the room under the teacher’s supervision.
Ji Zican never lifted a finger. Leaning against the hallway railing, he watched Yao Zuizui struggle with a desk.
Her delicate brows furrowed slightly, the veins on her pale hands faintly visible from exertion.
Ji Zican smirked, waiting for her to beg for his help.
But instead, Li Xin stepped in.
Without a word, the boy lifted the desk for her.
“Thank you,” Yao Zuizui said softly, her voice like a cool breeze in the stifling heat.
Li Xin grinned, eyes nearly disappearing. “N-no problem…”
Ji Zican cursed under his breath and kicked over a nearby trash can.
Yao Zuizui ignored him, maintaining her policy of treating him like air as she grabbed her bag and left.
Li Xin, however, jumped in fright and hurried to right the trash can.
Seeing Yao Zuizui walk away, Li Xin chased after her, visibly anxious.
Suspicious, Ji Zican followed.
He tailed Li Xin as the boy watched Yao Zuizui exit the school gates, then wandered the campus in circles.
Li Xin seemed lost in thought, sweating profusely, pacing nervously.
Ji Zican nearly dragged him into an alley then and there.
But something felt off. Better to wait and expose Li Xin’s true colors to Chen Xiaoxiao later.
For once, Ji Zican swallowed his anger and went home frustrated.
The two-day finals passed in a blur of naps for Ji Zican.
His only grievance? Being stuck in the lowest-tier exam room, far from Chen Xiaoxiao.
Lately, he couldn’t get enough of watching Yao Zuizui frown over her test papers.
It never got old.
After days of waiting, report card day arrived.
Despite the oppressive summer heat, Ji Zican’s mood was jubilant.
Sweat poured down his face as he pushed through the crowd to the rankings board.
His classmates stared.
Since when did Young Master Ji care about grades?
They followed his eager gaze.
…Last place. As expected.
But why was Young Master Ji grinning like an idiot at his name?
Was failing that exciting?
He always ranked last—even when he moved up one spot midterms, he hadn’t been this happy.
Had the heat fried his brain?
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