Chapter 35: The Submissive, Obsessive Top Student

Jiang Zhiyi was always a soft, pitiable little thing in front of Shi Qingyi, like a stray cat with nowhere to turn. Even when bullied, she only dared to shrink behind that person and cry quietly.

Because she had no one to rely on, Shi Qingyi pitied her and sheltered her, allowing her to live under her protection. But once Shi Qingyi discovered that she was nothing like the image she projected—

Jiang Zhiyi’s fingers clenched quietly. The blonde girl leaning against the stairs crossed her arms, her exquisite, aloof face showing no emotion.

She didn’t dare move, feeling as if that bucket of cold water had been dumped over her own head. Her nails dug into her pale palm, leaving stark crescent marks, as she awaited judgment from that person.

For a moment, heaven and earth fell utterly silent, even the wind holding its breath.

“Aren’t you going to run? Waiting for someone to catch you?” Shi Qingyi was exasperated. After doing something bad, she didn’t flee but waited to get caught?

Shi Qingyi grabbed her and ran, her grip warm. Jiang Zhiyi stumbled after her, her steps slow and unsteady, barely able to see the path ahead.

That heart, which had sunk to the depths, slowly came alive again, crawling from the abyss back to shore. She hooked her pinky with Shi Qingyi’s, and the heart suspended in midair finally settled firmly.

Halfway there, Shi Qingyi stopped abruptly. Jiang Zhiyi couldn’t brake in time and bumped her forehead against the girl’s slender butterfly bone. She looked up cautiously. “What’s wrong?”

“There’s surveillance outside the teaching building.” Shi Qingyi gritted her teeth. Every third-floor exterior had cameras, though they weren’t checked often. She’d once wanted to install some in the classrooms, but students had strongly opposed it on privacy grounds.

There had been no talk of checking footage when Jiang Zhiyi was accused of theft, but now they feared it might be used against them.

Shi Qingyi didn’t care for herself, but Jiang Zhiyi was different.

Shi Qingyi held Jiang Zhiyi’s hand, the girl behind her trusting her completely, ready to follow wherever she led.

On the second floor of the teaching building was a storage room filled with the school’s damaged desks and chairs. Shi Qingyi had never been a model student; picking the old lock was no challenge.

Jiang Zhiyi followed behind her, blocking the sunlight—and any prying eyes—like a lookout.

The chain snapped open with a clink. Light spilled in, stirring up dust that danced in the air. Shi Qingyi coughed twice, then deftly pulled two relatively intact chairs from the mountain of junk and wiped them clean with a rag.

The teaching building wasn’t far from the sports field; faint cheers drifted over. Jiang Zhiyi reached for Shi Qingyi’s hand, but it was instinctively dodged.

Her hand hung in the air, stiffening. The girl’s eyes darkened for an instant before she masked it and looked up softly. “There’s rust on my hand…”

Probably from fiddling with the chain—a deep red mark bit into her palm. Shi Qingyi had wiped it carefully, but when she brushed something, she hissed softly and tried to pull away, only to be held firm.

“What’s wrong? Where does it hurt?” Jiang Zhiyi tensed immediately.

“It’s nothing.” Shi Qingyi turned her head to withdraw her hand, but the usually obedient girl was unusually stubborn and wouldn’t let go.

Pushing up the white sleeve revealed glaring red swelling where thumb met wrist, with bruising in the worst spots. Jiang Zhiyi’s heart ached; she didn’t dare touch it. “From volleyball?”

She’d practiced a few times before the sports meet. Remembering the rainy day Shi Qingyi had dodged her lean, her heart softened suddenly.

So, dodging her just now wasn’t because she’d seen through her true self and grown disgusted?

Her gloomy mood brightened in an instant. She leaned in and blew gently on the bruised wrist. “Does it hurt? Let me rub it for you.”

“Do what you want.” The blonde girl looked away, refusing to meet her eyes. She wouldn’t let her pull away, so she had no choice but to let her.

The girl earnestly cradled her wrist, massaging with feather-light pressure. The cramped space grew eerily quiet, sunlight shifting over the hem of her skirt, stirring an inexplicable sweetness.

Shi Qingyi felt awkward and pulled out her earbuds, popping one in her own ear and the other in Jiang Zhiyi’s. The short cord let Jiang Zhiyi lean against her openly.

She leaned in carefully. Seeing no rejection—just Shi Qingyi turning away—she spotted only a glimpse of glowing white neck and a faintly flushed, tender earlobe in the dim light.

Emboldened, she claimed the limited space beside the girl. After a while, she gathered courage to hug her arm, her voice soft and coquettish.

“If you don’t like it, I won’t do that kind of thing again, okay?”

I’ll be very obedient, so please don’t abandon me?

Shi Qingyi was silent for a long time. As Jiang Zhiyi’s anxiety grew, Shi Qingyi adjusted her phone with one hand. The soothing love song in the earbuds switched to fluent, rapid English.

“Don’t think about it anymore.” Shi Qingyi stroked her soft hair. How could she not know about the bullying she’d endured? The system alone could list the vile deeds for days without repeating. Splashing a bucket of water was already merciful; from now on, it would start with ruined families.

Shi Qingyi’s gaze darkened, but her voice softened. “If anyone bullies you again, I’ll handle it for you. Don’t do this stuff anymore.”

Ten years of hard study down the drain in the final year over scum like them? Not worth it.

“Okay.” Seeing she wasn’t angry, Jiang Zhiyi sighed in relief and hugged her tighter, as if afraid she’d bolt.

“I’ll listen to you.”

As long as you don’t leave me, I’ll do anything you say.

“Don’t lean so close.” Shi Qingyi pushed her approaching head back with one finger. “Academic Overachiever Jiang, time for questions.”

“…Don’t want to.”

“Then what do you want?” Shi Qingyi handed her the phone, thinking it was inconvenient without a communicator. If cornered, there’d be no way to signal. She should buy her one.

“…Want to talk to you.”

“Aren’t we talking right now?” Shi Qingyi nearly laughed.

Jiang Zhiyi hummed, thinking quietly, Not enough, not nearly enough. I don’t want you just pitying or protecting me. I want your eyes to hold only me completely.

They huddled together in the narrow, abandoned corner, listening to distant cheers and whistles from the field. In that moment, Jiang Zhiyi felt she had everything.

Surprisingly, no one came looking. After gym class, everyone flooded back to the classroom. They slipped in with the crowd to find Song Zhiming and Deng Sisi gone, though their books remained.

The class teacher stood at the corridor’s end, face ashen, on the phone.

Within half an hour, both sets of parents arrived. Song Zhiming’s father, a handsome man in a suit, dragged him from the office and kicked him square in the gut. The usually arrogant Song Zhiming crumpled, lips moving to call “Dad.”

“You have the nerve to call me?!” The middle-aged man flew into a rage and kicked his calf next. Song Zhiming grunted, unable to stand or speak.

Students craned their necks to peek. The last afternoon class was politics, taught by a wise, easygoing man in his forties or fifties. Hearing the commotion, he rapped the blackboard. “Focus, everyone. No peeking. Draw the curtains!”

The dark blue curtains swished shut. The politics teacher headed out as whispers erupted.

“What happened? Why call the class president’s parents? Didn’t he have relatives at school?”

“I heard he got caught dating by Mediterranean… Caught red-handed, no excuses. Class teacher called the parents—might expel one.”

“Deng Sisi’s parents are here too. How’d they get caught? Weren’t they careful?”

“Bad luck. Gym was before Mediterranean’s sub class. He came back for something and saw them making out…”

Someone in the know turned awkwardly. “Not just making out—the other class saw clothes half-off. Our class president seems so proper…”

Shi Qingyi’s hearing was sharp; the system filled in gaps. She pieced it together.

Gossip flew wildly, exaggerated beyond measure. Shi Qingyi listened to increasingly outlandish rumors, then asked the system, “Do you think this was really an accident?”

System: “…”

Don’t ask me. I know nothing.

No one dared approach Jiang Zhiyi amid the chatter. She sat quietly writing homework, her neat script deliberately sloppy to mimic Shi Qingyi’s.

“I’ll do it myself.” Shi Qingyi sighed, reaching to take it back.

The teacher overlooked her homework anyway. Jiang Zhiyi still had her own to do late into the night.

“Don’t move.” Jiang Zhiyi clutched the homework to her chest. “Your hand isn’t better. Consider it practice for me.”

Like a hamster guarding food.

No one guarded homework like that. “Practice”? These problems were child’s play for her.

Jiang Zhiyi bent back to writing, feeling Shi Qingyi’s gaze. Her ears reddened; she paused, fished a candy from her desk, and slipped it into Shi Qingyi’s. “If you’re bored, have candy.”

Shi Qingyi was stunning; gifts piled up, most trashed. Jiang Zhiyi was nervous—until she heard the wrapper tear.

Jiang Zhiyi curved her lips faintly.

—She’s different with me than with others.

The politics teacher returned soon after the scuffle stopped, face displeased. Everyone self-studied in silence.

The sunny afternoon darkened into stormy gloom by evening. Around six, Deng Sisi’s parents arrived. The class teacher led them to the office amid incessant chatter.

“Teacher Gao, Teacher Chen, you know our Zhiming studies hard, is honest, diligent class president— he wouldn’t break rules dating. That girl? Dyed hair, no good stock. She seduced my son!”

Song Zhiming’s parents kept on. Soon, his voice: “…Yeah, she chased me. I was curious, couldn’t resist…”

“See, Teacher Chen? Our Zhiming’s a model student, yearly outstanding cadre!”

The noise was loud, shuffling forward with flattery. The classroom was deathly quiet.

Just as everyone thought it over, a man’s furious roar erupted outside, followed by a sharp slap. “Shameless thing, embarrassing us!”

Thunder rolled as clouds burst. A girl’s piercing, heartbroken wail pierced the walls.

Beating continued until office staff pulled the man away, still cursing: disgraceful, shameless…

Deng Sisi sobbed against the wall, supported downstairs slowly. Curtains drawn, only a blurry shadow visible.

Silence reigned, broken by pattering rain. The politics teacher sighed. “I told you, senior year—focus. No dating, no distractions. Study for your future.”

No one spoke. The quiet was terrifying.

Shi Qingyi suddenly remembered No. 3 Middle School’s rule: if two people started dating, one had to drop out while the other remained under probation. One could only choose between their future and love—this had been made clear from the moment they entered the school.

“So, who pursued whom first?”

The system, which had been playing dead for half the day, finally poked its head out weakly. “Song Zhiming. He chased her for months before succeeding.”

Shi Qingyi fell silent for a moment.

By the time school ended that evening, both of their seats were empty. Their parents had come to pack up their things and left in a hurry. The classroom gossip said they were going home for half a month of reflection.

No one needed to explain how intense the senior year review schedule was. They were already in the second round of reviews, and missing half a month of classes meant a huge loss that everyone understood.

Moreover, this half month was just for deciding who would drop out. No. 3 Middle School was ruthlessly strict on certain matters—one left, one stayed. That was the ironclad rule.

When school let out that evening, Jiang Zhiyi had already prepared an umbrella nearby ahead of time, waiting for the moment when Shi Qingyi’s hand hurt and they could share it. Shi Qingyi lay sprawled on her desk, unwilling to move. Jiang Zhiyi gently nudged her shoulder.

“The pharmacy hasn’t closed yet. Shall we go buy some medicine for you?” Her voice was so soft it was practically coaxing.

Shi Qingyi lay with half her face buried in her sleeve, only her two dark, shiny eyes visible. She suddenly looked up at her and asked, “Do you know the dean of instruction is coming back?”

The girl met her gaze without flinching. Her eyes were pure and innocent under the bright classroom lights, as clear as if washed by the rain outside the window, utterly sincere. She shook her head earnestly. “It really wasn’t me.”