Chapter 33: The Submissive, Obsessive Top Student

A string of incidents—stealing money, skipping class, getting injured—came one after another. On the other end of the phone, the homeroom teacher earnestly advised this little ancestor to pull herself together, talking until her mouth went dry.

“It’s almost Gaokao. Can we just stop causing trouble?”

Shi Qingyi covered one ear with her hand and waited a full ten minutes before finally hearing that concluding remark. She hurriedly nodded and promised she would, which finally allowed the homeroom teacher to hang up.

She had wanted to just hang up and ignore it, but the homeroom teacher had contacted her family directly. If she did that, it was uncertain whether she could return to school anytime soon.

Recently, her family had been plotting to send her abroad to study. Anyway, she wouldn’t pass the Gaokao, so it was better to go out early and gild her resume. Her family had long had this plan in mind, and it might have come so quickly because rumors from school had reached them.

Shi Qingyi rubbed her brow and rode her bike around the area for a bit to buy some food before heading back.

The clinic was tucked away in a narrow alley, and being on the first floor, it wasn’t very well-lit. In the early morning, the dappled sunlight fell on the girl. She huddled in a corner of the long bench, sipping a cup of soy milk in small mouthfuls. The light and shadows danced over the faded hem of her skirt. With her brows lowered, she looked so quiet and well-behaved that it made one’s heart ache.

Perhaps the more obedient and fragile one appeared, the more one attracted bullies. Later, when she became vicious and spiteful, no one dared bully her anymore.

Shi Qingyi walked over and snatched the cold bun from her hand. Jiang Zhiyi seemed to be lost in thought and startled abruptly when it was taken, shrinking back a little.

She must have been beaten badly. Shi Qingyi’s heart suddenly softened. She went over and stuffed the hot black rice porridge into her hands. “Eat this.”

The doctor, who had been slurping noodles, glanced at the two of them, finished the last of his noodle soup, and closed his mouth on the advice he had planned to give.

As they walked out, Jiang Zhiyi quietly tugged at her sleeve and offered the porridge back. “You eat this. It’s hot. The bun is fine for me.”

The bun she had bought earlier had gone completely cold long ago. She hadn’t taken a single bite while waiting for Shi Qingyi to return from her call, only drinking a couple sips of soy milk because her stomach felt uncomfortable from hunger.

Shi Qingyi wanted to flick her forehead but held back when she saw the conspicuous white bandage on her head.

“Are you stupid? This bun is filled with mutton—it’s a triggering food for injuries. You can’t eat it.” She took a bite herself and shoved the porridge back. “Eating cold stuff all the time will give you stomach problems sooner or later. You’ll cry then.”

Who wanted to eat cold food? But there was no spare money at home. She brought her own lunch, but the lunchbox was broken, so it always went cold. If she didn’t eat it, she’d starve.

“Mm.” Jiang Zhiyi nodded, sneaking a sip of the black rice porridge. The flavor was very mild, not very sweet at all, but she felt something spreading from the bottom of her heart. Every sip was overwhelmingly sweet.

She looked so obedient, like a little cat trailing behind her, agreeing to whatever she said. Shi Qingyi suddenly stopped walking and reached out to tap near her forehead. “Does it hurt?”

It was slightly warm there, the residual heat from the medicine. Shi Qingyi’s finger was cool, and the touch made her tremble faintly. She should have dodged, but instead, she just tilted her neck up slightly, offering both her wound and her lifeline into her hands.

“You have to be nicer to yourself, little fool.” Her voice sounded like a helpless sigh, but upon closer listen, one could faintly hear a trace of heartache.

Her gaze burned with devotion. For some reason, Shi Qingyi didn’t dare meet it directly. She just parted her hair a bit and examined it seriously for a moment. Jiang Zhiyi’s heart raced extraordinarily fast. Just as she thought Shi Qingyi would say something, she spoke.

“Your bangs have grown out—”

“…”

Classes had already been skipped, and leaves of absence taken. Jiang Zhiyi was a top student who had gotten in on her merits; her grades didn’t need worrying about. So between going back to listen to the math teacher’s nagging and accompanying her crush for some fresh air, she decisively chose the latter.

Shi Qingyi’s grades went without saying—utterly hopeless. She took Jiang Zhiyi to the mall. Luckily, she had her mom’s membership card and pushed her toward the most expensive salon. “Give her a new hairstyle.”

At the end, she touched her forehead and instructed, “Don’t touch the wound.”

It wasn’t a difficult request. Tony Teacher gestured around her head a few times and tentatively asked, “What style does the little beauty want?”

Jiang Zhiyi quietly tugged at Shi Qingyi’s clothes, a bit nervous.

Her hair had always been cut by the old lady in the alley before. Later, when she got older, she did it herself. She had never been to a salon.

“Don’t be scared.” Shi Qingyi comforted her and seriously browsed the styles. In the end, she regretfully settled on a student cut. Senior year of high school—long hair wasted time. Better to sleep more with the time saved for styling.

“Just this one? I think dyeing her hair chestnut brown would look amazing.” Tony Teacher sighed regretfully, flipped a page for Shi Qingyi, and pointed to a style.

It did look great and suited her. Shi Qingyi paused slightly. Seeing her silent, Jiang Zhiyi leaned over from the chair to look, tilting her head against her shoulder.

“Schools don’t allow dyeing hair in senior year,” Shi Qingyi murmured, her jaw close to her temple. Amid the pleasant fresh scent was a faint bitter medicinal smell. “We’ll dye it later.”

She said “we” and “later.” Jiang Zhiyi’s eyes brightened, and she nodded obediently. “Okay.”

Later, we’ll do it together. Whatever color you like, I’ll dye it that color. As long as you don’t leave me, I’ll listen to everything you say.

Shi Qingyi didn’t catch the deeper meaning in her words. She just turned and patted her head. She nuzzled up obediently, like a soft, well-behaved little cat.

Tony Teacher suddenly felt like a third wheel.

Jiang Zhiyi’s bangs were trimmed shorter, revealing the eyes and forehead that had always been covered. Perhaps because of the hairstyle, her previously gloomy aura dispersed quite a bit.

She and Jiang Zhiqing shared similar blood; she actually looked a bit like her—three parts similar. When she didn’t speak and just quietly looked at people, she had a touch of pitiable charm. Shi Qingyi noticed for the first time that she had a widow’s peak.

Widow’s peak, oval face, big eyes. Apart from her timid expression, she was actually a little beauty.

But for no reason, it made her feel oddly familiar.

She suppressed the strange glint in her eyes, led her downstairs to buy clothes, but Jiang Zhiyi refused no matter what. She clung to her hand without letting go or speaking, just looking at her with an unusually resolute expression.

Unable to buy clothes, they had to head back to school. Bikes couldn’t be taken on the bus, so Shi Qingyi rode with her. At first, Jiang Zhiyi only cautiously held her waist. Later, she grew bolder, wrapping her arms around her waist and whispering excuses by her ear. “It’s so cold…”

How cold could an early autumn morning be? Shi Qingyi was too lazy to call out her lie. The expensive bike traveled over the bumpy roads of the urban village. Suddenly, it dipped into a pothole, lurching. Luckily, Shi Qingyi had good balance and barely steadied it.

Jiang Zhiyi took advantage of the jolt to close the last bit of gap, hugging her waist tightly. She quietly inched her chin closer to her shoulder bit by bit.

Later, Jiang Zhiyi always remembered that day. The wind seemed especially gentle. The sycamore leaves by the road hadn’t fallen yet. She sat on the back seat of Shi Qingyi’s bike, hugging her waist, riding a long, long way.

In some moments, she even prayed the school would never arrive.

That was the first time she got so close to Shi Qingyi. The girl’s body was soft and warm. For many years afterward, she dreamed of that scene—her taking her through streets and alleys, all the way to the end of life…

Unfortunately, good dreams wake easily and wishes don’t come true.

—

When Shi Qingyi returned, she was dragged to the office for a scolding. She was used to it and just listened obediently, letting it go in one ear and out the other. After half an hour, she was released. When she got back, a cup of warm water was already on her desk. Jiang Zhiyi looked at her considerately. “Your throat must hurt, right?”

Shi Qingyi: “…”

She silently took a sip. The little pitiful one had even luxuriously added sugar. Not easy.

Not long after she returned, it was Jiang Zhiyi’s turn. Another half-class of earnest advice: in senior year, don’t be willful; focus on studies. At the end, the homeroom teacher looked at her with a complicated expression and sighed.

“You’re not the same as Shi Qingyi.”

Jiang Zhiyi’s hand hidden in her sleeve clenched suddenly, her breath catching for an instant.

They weren’t the same. One was born a proud daughter of heaven, living in the clouds. The other was born in the mud, stained with all darkness. Just like Jiang Zhiqing said, they weren’t people from the same world.

When she returned, it was math class. Old He was passionately lecturing on the September monthly exam questions from the podium. Shi Qingyi had already fallen asleep. Jiang Zhiyi tiptoed back to her seat, afraid of waking her.

A little disappointed.

When Shi Qingyi came back, she had brewed her sugary water. When she came back, Shi Qingyi was asleep.

The disappointed Jiang Zhiyi sneaked a glance at the person beside her, confirmed she was asleep, and hurriedly took a sip of the sugary water.

“Did the homeroom teacher scold you?” The person who seemed fast asleep suddenly turned her head to look at her, tilting her head bonelessly as she yawned. She had already admitted to the homeroom teacher that it was her fault—how could she get scolded?

Jiang Zhiyi, holding the cup, stiffened for a moment and quickly shook her head. “You sleep. Later, I’ll do your homework for you.”

“Oh.” Shi Qingyi scratched her head, feeling like something was off. Normally, the little pitiful one, mustering up her courage, urged her to study hard. Why was she letting her sleep today?

But she really was sleepy. Other classes were fine, but Old He’s lessons were like heavenly scriptures—even if not sleepy, they made her sleepy.

Once she confirmed Shi Qingyi was asleep, Jiang Zhiyi straightened up and took another sip of the sugary water. It was her own cup; drinking from her own cup was perfectly justified!

Perhaps her guilty yet boldly righteous demeanor was too eye-catching. Old He pushed up his glasses and pointed to the blackboard. “Come on, you—get up and explain how to solve this problem.”

Top student Jiang Zhiyi: “…”

That day after school, Shi Qingyi left first. Jiang Zhiyi trailed behind, secretly watching her.

It had always been like this before. She waited for Shi Qingyi to leave first, then followed her silhouette from afar. Back then, she didn’t even dare approach to say more than a word, but just walking under the same sunset made her happy.

Occasionally, there were unhappy moments too—like when some inexplicable male classmate blocked the tall girl to confess, give gifts, ask for contact info. She’d watch dejectedly from behind, lacking the confidence.

Then that day, her mood was especially bad. Shi Qingyi’s beauty was impossible to hide, her aloof temperament drawing people who wanted to pluck the flower from the high mountain. It was different from Jiang Zhiqing’s pitiable beauty that stirred protectiveness.

Mm, couldn’t blame Shi Qingyi for being pretty, or those guys for having good taste like her. Could only blame herself for lacking the courage to stand in front of her.

The puffed-up someone prepared to note it down in her little book, only to realize she’d left something in the classroom.

Later, Jiang Zhiyi always wondered what would have happened if she hadn’t gone back to hear those words. But perhaps fate insisted she hear and see it. She stood at the back door of the classroom, peering through the dappled sunlight at the two people embracing inside.

The usually gentle and refined class monitor Song Zhiming leaned against the window, his fingers that usually held a pen now expertly holding a cigarette. Wisps of smoke rose in the sunlight. Beside him sat Deng Sisi on a desk.

Her subtly permed hair caught the sunset, glinting with a touch of dazzling gold. She didn’t have Shi Qingyi’s boldness to dye it outright gold but wasn’t content to be lesser.

“What about that six hundred yuan? That’s my month’s allowance. I was going to buy the new lipstick. It was all your rotten idea.”

The girl’s voice held a whine, almost coquettish. She held a small mirror, carefully outlining her lipstick.

Song Zhiming slowly exhaled a smoke ring, flicking ash with his ring finger. “What’s the rush? It’s just six hundred yuan. Look, Shi Qingyi’s necklace is at least three million starting price, and she didn’t say a word.”

Deng Sisi huffed, her voice tinged with envy. “How could I compare to her? But that necklace of hers is really pretty.”

“How could it not be? It’s worth millions,” Song Zhiming scoffed lightly. “Originally planned to swap it with some random material, but afraid she’d go crazy and confront us head-on, we smashed it instead. Lost millions and she didn’t dare make a peep. I think she might really be a lesbian or something, otherwise why protect that little bitch Jiang Zhiyi so much.”

“Disgusting,” Deng Sisi wrinkled her brow in disgust. “What are they saying at school? This was almost a police matter. Didn’t your uncle say the recommendation spot was between you and Jiang Zhiyi? With such a big incident, she’s lost her chance, right?”

“I don’t know how it’ll play out yet. It was my uncle who leaked the info to me, but with such a fuss, it definitely has an impact.” The cigarette had burned to the end, so Song Zhiming tossed it away and lowered his head to capture the girl’s lips.

Deng Sisi tilted her head back slightly and wrapped her arms around his neck. The two quickly kissed, and Song Zhiming slipped his hand along her waist, into her school uniform, to caress her.

Jiang Zhiyi stood outside the classroom and suddenly felt the blood in her body turn ice-cold. She lifted her head in a daze.

It was clearly around five or six in the evening, with the sunset so gentle, yet she suddenly felt a chill that made her shiver.

The small necklace still hidden at her neck now bore a crack that could never be mended.

—

Outside the school, Shi Qingyi had a candy stick in her mouth as she checked her phone. She occasionally glanced toward the school gates. The front basket of her bicycle held many colorful candies, their plastic wrappers gleaming in the sunset.

She leaned against the bicycle, gazing toward the school, bored enough to chat with the System: “Why hasn’t she come out yet?”