Chapter 23: Heart Moves: Day 3

Tong Baifeng and the others noticed that Sister Huai was acting stranger and stranger.

Not only was she showing up to school on time every day for classes, she had stopped going out to play. Lately, she had even asked them if they had any old textbooks.

Qu Tao touched his buzz cut and grinned foolishly. “Sister Huai, do I look like the kind of guy who has books?”

Bei Huai rolled her eyes and waved him off. “Forget it. Asking you lot is a waste of time.”

She had never planned on paying attention in class anyway. But with Jiang Wan turning around every so often to glance at her, it felt awkward to just sprawl across her desk asleep. At least with a book, she could pretend to follow along.

As Bei Huai mulled over whether to buy some secondhand textbooks online that evening, she spotted the two girls in front of her leaning close together, whispering.

Mi Shuyun panicked. “Oh no, I forgot my English book at home!”

Jiang Wan soothed her gently. “It’s fine. We can share one.”

Sure enough, when English class started, Bei Huai watched as the two of them huddled together, sharing a single book.

She tamped down her irritation and bowed her head, refusing to look anymore. She was afraid that if she kept staring, she wouldn’t be able to resist storming up there and prying them apart.

They’re just reading a book. Why do they have to sit so close?

Bei Huai felt thoroughly annoyed.

The period dragged on like an eternity for her, pure agony.

For Mi Shuyun, it was like needles pricking her back. Even someone as oblivious as her could feel the heavy resentment radiating from the girl behind her.

The worst part was, she had no clue what she had done to set her off.

The bell finally rang. Bei Huai poked Jiang Wan’s back.

“What’s next?”

Jiang Wan turned around. “Math.”

“I forgot my math book,” Bei Huai said dead seriously.

“You…” Jiang Wan gave her a hesitant look. “Didn’t you never bring it anyway?”

Bei Huai: “…”

She pressed on stubbornly. “It’s different this time. I actually want to learn.”

“Hmm.” The girl pondered for a moment, then said earnestly, “You don’t need a book for this one. The teacher’s just going over the test papers.”

Bei Huai: “…”

She gritted her teeth. “I don’t have the test paper either.”

“Well…” Jiang Wan started to reply, but Bei Huai cut her off. “I don’t have anything. Nothing at all.”

Jiang Wan blinked, her expression perfectly innocent.

“I was just going to say, all right then.”

Bei Huai clamped her mouth shut, her face stormy as she marched over to Mi Shuyun. In a cold voice, she said, “Switch seats this period.”

“Sure thing!” Mi Shuyun nodded vigorously, scooped up her things in a flash, and scurried away.

Jiang Wan watched Bei Huai plop down beside her, still wearing that grumpy scowl. She felt a mix of amusement and exasperation.

“If you wanted to share a book with me, you could’ve just said so. Why go the long way around?” She had figured out Bei Huai’s intentions the moment she opened her mouth.

Truth be told, she had been teasing her on purpose earlier.

Bei Huai said nothing, but the tension in her eyes eased.

Once math class began, Jiang Wan fell silent, focusing intently on the lecture. Every now and then, she jotted notes on her test paper.

Bei Huai slouched sideways, propping her chin on her right hand and pretending to study the paper. In reality, her gaze lingered on Jiang Wan from the corner of her eye the entire time.

Being this close, she could even make out the fine down on the girl’s face. She could smell her lemony scent.

Sweet, but not the least bit cloying.

They said a man looked most handsome when serious—but the same went for girls.

There was something especially captivating about them when they concentrated.

From Bei Huai’s vantage point, Jiang Wan was gazing down in deep focus, her small face taut with effort. Every so often, she tapped her chin with the end of her pen, as if wrestling with a tricky problem.

Earnest. Adorably so.

Bei Huai was so absorbed that when Jiang Wan suddenly glanced back, she had no time to look away.

Their eyes locked.

Caught red-handed peeking, Bei Huai whipped her head aside in embarrassment, fiddling awkwardly with her earring.

Jiang Wan smiled and leaned in closer, whispering, “Eyes on the questions, not me.”

“Who… who said I was looking at you? Don’t be so full of yourself.” Bei Huai’s cheeks burned and her heart pounded, but she stayed defiant to the end.

“Oh?” Jiang Wan teased, her smile radiant as she drew out the syllable.

“Of course.” Bei Huai straightened up, though her voice lacked conviction.

“Bei Huai, if you’re not here to learn, then leave. Don’t distract the others!” The teacher’s piercing gaze swept down from the front.

He had been watching the pair for a while now. He knew Jiang Wan—a diligent student who always turned in perfect homework. If she was slacking off, it had to be Bei Huai’s influence.

“Who authorized you to switch seats without permission!”

He distinctly remembered Bei Huai sitting alone in the back row. He had no desire to deal with her, but when other students were involved, he had no choice.

Bei Huai scowled, starting to rise—but the girl beside her beat her to it.

“Teacher, Bei Huai forgot her book, so she switched seats to share mine. She also had a math question for me, so we exchanged a few words just now. It won’t happen again.”

“Her? A question?” The teacher clearly didn’t buy it.

“Why can’t she?” Jiang Wan shot back.

“As students, shouldn’t asking questions be a good thing? Doesn’t the teacher want us to ask?”

Publicly called out like that, the teacher’s face soured, and his opinion of Jiang Wan took a nosedive.

“Class time is for class. Can’t she wait until after class? Can’t she raise her hand and ask?”

Jiang Wan didn’t argue back. She had broken the rules, after all, and had to face the consequences.

“Both of you, out! Stand in the hall!”

Bei Huai clenched her fist, her cheek bulging as she bit down hard, ready to explode. But then her sleeve was tugged ever so slightly.

She froze and glanced sideways. The girl gave her a gentle shake of the head.

Swallowing her anger, Bei Huai followed Jiang Wan out of the classroom.

“You shouldn’t have jumped in like that. I was the one who wanted to switch seats. I was the one who disturbed you,” Bei Huai grumbled from the corridor, her mood sour.

She’d been booted from class by teachers plenty of times before and didn’t care about that. What bothered her was dragging Jiang Wan down with her.

If she’d known, she never would’ve switched seats.

“It’s not on you. I was the impulsive one,” Jiang Wan soothed in a soft voice.

They were in the wrong first, sure. But seeing the teacher’s scornful look when he mentioned Bei Huai—she just couldn’t hold her tongue.

Maybe to the teacher, Bei Huai was a total lost cause, beyond redemption.

But to Jiang Wan, Bei Huai had her own sparkle, something bright and shining.

No one deserved to be written off completely.

If she could turn back time, Jiang Wan knew she’d say it all over again, teacher be damned.

“The teacher wasn’t wrong, actually. A screw-up like me hanging around the good kids? I’ll just drag you down,” Bei Huai said, leaning against the cold wall. Her heart felt like it was sinking lower with every word.

“Then prove them wrong.”

“Huh?”

Jiang Wan’s gaze was steady and firm. “Show them that even screw-ups can turn it around one day.”

“Even if you’ve crashed into the dirt, someday you can climb back to the top.”

Something stirred in Bei Huai’s chest. She stared at the girl, emotions flickering across her face. After a long moment, she let out a mocking laugh. “What, reverse psychology? Sorry to disappoint—people like me are doomed to wallow in the muck forever.”

With that, she turned and headed for the stairs.

Her retreating figure looked more like a hasty retreat than anything else.

Jiang Wan watched her go, then lowered her eyes with a soft sigh.

If she could, she’d love to see the brilliant, dazzling Bei Huai that Bei Qi had talked about.

It wasn’t that the Bei Huai now was bad. She just felt… incomplete.

Bei Huai was running from her old self, rejecting who she’d been.

That’s why she was going all out to reinvent herself into someone totally different.

But Jiang Wan wanted her to know: the her of now, the her of before—she’d accept them both.

~~~

During break, a few girls were buzzing about Gao Yan’s upcoming concert in Ning City.

Gao Yan was one of those singers who flew a bit under the radar—not a massive superstar, but steady.

He mostly kept to himself, putting out albums quietly, humble and soft-spoken, with hardly any scandals.

His music had real depth, the kind that cut straight to the soul.

His fans were cut from the same cloth: chill and low-key.

By pure chance, both Jiang Wan and Guanguan were fans.

They were in it for the songs, not the guy.

Guanguan had gotten wind of the Ning City show ages ago and was ready from the jump.

She snagged tickets in the first wave.

The show was on the evening of the 19th.

A Friday, no less.

Going meant ditching evening self-study.

Jiang Wan had planned to come up with an excuse that day and ask their homeroom teacher for a pass.

But as the saying goes, best-laid plans…

The teacher had dipped out early for some errand.

Jiang Wan showed up at the office to an empty room.

No pass meant no leaving. Asking at the Discipline Office? Total hassle with all the red tape—and a sure way to get busted.

Guanguan? She didn’t sweat it. Just didn’t ask.

Their homeroom teacher was nothing like Jiang Wan’s—cranky as hell, liable to chew you out for an hour over a simple leave.

Guanguan nudged her slyly. “Come on, it’s just self-study. Nothing major, and we’ve got the weekend starting tomorrow. One little night of fun won’t kill us.”

“Plus, when’s the next time Gao Yan hits Ning City? This is huge!”

That hit home for Jiang Wan.

She genuinely loved his music. Learning he’d play in Ning City? She’d been over the moon.

“That settles it. Time to let loose just once,” she told herself.

Though she knew skipping class was wrong, the opportunity felt too precious to pass up. She wanted to choose something more meaningful for herself.

She didn’t want to look back later with regrets.

That evening, while everyone else was in class, Jiang Wan excused herself to use the bathroom and bolted for the wall behind the school.

That’s right—the same wall where she and Bei Huai had first met.

Unlike back then, the once-vibrant green ivy had turned a deep crimson.

It was breathtaking at a glance.

“Wanwan, what are you spacing out for? Hurry up—we don’t have much time!” Guanguan had arrived early and waved her over impatiently.

Jiang Wan snapped out of it and ran to her side.

“You sure you can climb this?” she asked, eyeing the towering wall doubtfully. But before she could say more, Guanguan dragged over a few bricks from somewhere and stacked them neatly.

Jiang Wan: “…You’re pretty handy at this.”

“Huh? Me?” Guanguan laughed it off awkwardly, which only made her look guiltier.

Jiang Wan didn’t bother calling her out.

With the bricks as a makeshift step, scaling the wall was manageable.

Still, it was her first time pulling something like this, so Jiang Wan stayed on high alert the whole climb, heart pounding at the thought of getting caught.

She finally hauled herself to the top, but jumping down made her freeze.

One peek over the edge, and dizziness hit her hard.

Guanguan had already leaped down with ease.

“Come on, Wanwan! The patrolling teachers will be here any second!” With no movement from above, Guanguan called up urgently.

Only now, perched up there, did Jiang Wan realize just how far it was to the ground.

She couldn’t bear to look down, swallowed hard, and said in a trembling voice, “My legs are like jelly.”

“Don’t worry—I’ll catch you!” Guanguan stretched her arms out wide below, ready and waiting.

Jiang Wan wavered. She was scared she’d come down wrong and end up hurting Guanguan instead.

Just as the two were locked in their standoff, a voice laced with surprise sounded from behind them.

“What are you two doing?”