Seeing Yang Haoran return, Zhou Shiwen and Wei Ming could tell from his silence that he was lost in thought, his mood clearly sour.
The two of them wisely held back from asking questions. After all, they knew they weren’t the type to offer comfort.
Meals with the three of them had always been filled with laughter and chatter in the past, but this one passed in awkward silence, tasteless and uncomfortable.
They finished quickly and headed back to the school dorms.
Yang Haoran had a dorm room at school, though he usually only used it for midday naps. His mother insisted he come home for dinner and sleep at night.
Back in the dorm, Yang Haoran went straight to his bed—the lower bunk on the left side of the door. He fluffed his pillow, pulled up the covers, and crashed out.
Wei Ming, in the bunk above him, watched and sighed inwardly. There was nothing he could do to help with this.
Zhou Shiwen was assigned to the dorm next door.
…
Time passed until 2:10 p.m., when Yang Haoran finally woke up feeling refreshed and full of energy. The previous night’s lack of sleep had been fully made up.
He flashed a grin at Wei Ming, who had long since woken, then headed next door to rouse Zhou Shiwen. In Wei Ming’s eyes, Rat’s familiar smile had returned, and he seemed fine. As his good buddy, Wei Ming breathed a silent sigh of relief.
He made a mental note to set Rat up with a new goal later—like Yang Mengyao, another school beauty. They even shared the same family name. Compared to Xiao Shaowan’s aloof personality, Wei Ming felt the quiet and gentle Yang Mengyao would suit Rat much better.
The three freshened up and left the dorm building together, heading for class.
Lessons started at 2:30, and the roads were packed with students flowing like a flood toward the various teaching buildings. Only the real last-minuters were still holed up.
They strolled along, chatting casually, and reached the classroom right at 2:20.
A good number of classmates had already arrived early. Yang Haoran scanned the room and, sure enough, spotted his sister Yaoyao settled comfortably in her seat, working through some practice problems. From the look of it, she’d been there for a while.
He also saw several familiar faces: Wen Ting, Li Peng, Du Sha, Han Lili, and finally, Xiao Shaowan.
As if sensing his gaze, Xiao Shaowan glanced over and met Yang Haoran’s eyes.
Their gazes locked for a split second before Yang Haoran looked away and headed to his seat.
Xiao Shaowan didn’t seem upset by his averted eyes. Instead, the corners of her mouth curved into a beautiful smile, radiant and charming.
Once Yang Haoran sat down, he noticed someone had knocked his books off the desk. He sighed in exasperation. Who the heck did that?
He straightened them out, stacking them neatly in the corner. As he picked up the last one, a flash of white caught his eye.
It was a white note. Delicate, elegant handwriting spelled out a single line:
“Afternoon, 6 p.m. Teaching Building Rooftop. Be there.”
Obviously from a girl, judging by the script.
Yang Haoran frowned in confusion and glanced around the classroom. No one was looking his way.
He shrugged it off and pocketed the note. He’d find out soon enough.
He wasn’t too bothered, though a spark of curiosity lingered. Which girl in class was blind enough to ask him out in private?
Besides the handsome looks his mother had given him, he was worthless in everyone else’s eyes.
The afternoon classes went by smoothly. With his energy restored, he wasn’t drowsy anymore and actually paid attention—though he still only half-grasped the material. His improved attitude made Yang Mengyao happy; her lips curved upward unconsciously as she listened to the lecture.
Time slipped away unnoticed. Yang Haoran, who usually couldn’t wait for the bell, suddenly realized class was over without him even noticing.
The dismissal chime blared, and the teacher wrapped up promptly, packing her things and leaving without delay.
The classroom erupted into noise as students milled about, forming groups of three or five to head out—some to the school cafeteria, others off campus. Wei Ming called out to Yang Haoran, suggesting they grab dinner at the cafeteria first before heading home. Yang Haoran politely turned him down.
After Wei Ming and the others left, about a dozen students remained, planning to study until 6 p.m.
Yang Haoran glanced around: five guys and eight girls, including his sister Yang Mengyao and her desk mate Wen Ting. Whoever left the note couldn’t be Yaoyao, though—that made no sense.
He checked his phone: 5:20 p.m. Whatever. He had no clue which girl it was anyway, so no point guessing. He’d just wait until six and see.
But reality didn’t match his plans. After barely ten minutes of sitting there, Yang Haoran was bored out of his mind. Everyone else was heads-down studying, while he nodded off idly, twiddling his thumbs. The atmosphere felt suffocating.
At 5:36 p.m., he decided not to wait around like an idiot. Whoever it was probably wasn’t sticking around the classroom—they’d be one of the ones who’d already left.
He wandered the campus. Even nearing six, it was still bustling with boarding students.
A cool breeze brushed his cheeks as Yang Haoran checked his phone again: 6:03 p.m.
He’d lost track of time while strolling. Shrugging it off, he made his way to the teaching building.
There were several buildings, but the note from class likely meant their own.
After climbing seven or eight flights of stairs, he reached the rooftop door.
It was usually locked, but today it stood wide open. Yang Haoran ascended the final steps.
The rooftop was as desolate as ever, empty under the open sky—save for one tall, graceful silhouette, about 172 cm.
She stood with her back to him, but even from behind, her beauty was evident: a lithe figure, long hair cascading over her shoulders. She wore a beige off-shoulder T-shirt that bared her smooth, creamy shoulders. Her waist was slender as a willow, narrow enough to span with two hands, flaring into a black pleated miniskirt.
Below the skirt, a segment of thigh gleamed like tender white onion, leading to long, perfectly proportioned legs sheathed in sheer flesh-toned stockings that hugged her flawless skin. In the sunset glow, they shimmered enticingly. White leather shoes completed the look.
Amid that alluring silhouette, what captivated Yang Haoran most were those exquisite, sexy long legs—measuring nearly a meter, enhanced by the stockings into a vision of mature, seductive allure.
In their class, only one person matched that height and those legs.
“I was starting to think you wouldn’t show,” the figure said softly, turning to reveal a face Yang Haoran knew all too well.
Xiao Shaowan!
She had a perfect oval face, long lashes, sparkling eyes, slender willow brows, a delicate nose, and full, rosy lips—forming a stunningly beautiful visage.
Right now, her clear, starlit eyes gazed intently at the handsome young man before her.
