Song Rui and the other three girls from her dorm were sitting in the front row, right in front of Shen An.
Wang Yuqiong was no longer in her seat. She flitted through the classroom like a butterfly darting among flowers, flaunting her vibrant wings as she dispensed flattery and sweet talk, wandering from one group to the next.
These ten minutes weren’t just for discussion—it was also prime time for campaigning.
It wasn’t only Wang Yuqiong. The other two girls from her dorm had left their seats too, following her lead by lobbying the other students.
Of course, the class wasn’t limited to those three. Other sharp-minded girls noticed and jumped into the fray, buzzing with activity.
Only Song Rui sat there, frozen in place like a deer in headlights.
Shen An kept his eyes on her. He caught a glimpse of her downcast profile, hesitation flickering in her gaze.
A moment later, Yang Bin strolled over.
He clapped Shen An on the shoulder, shot a cautious glance at Shen Lianyao, then leaned in close to whisper in Shen An’s ear. “Good bro, you’re really not running?”
Shen An narrowed his eyes. “You gunning for class president?”
“Uh, I thought about it, but I promised Wang Yuqiong. So I’m aiming for study committee member instead.”
“Huh?”
“Bro, you don’t know? That job puts you in constant contact with the class president.” Yang Bin winked exaggeratedly.
Shen An got the picture. “Alright, count on my vote.”
“Thanks, man!” Buoyed by the promise, Yang Bin hustled off to rally more support.
Just then, Song Rui abruptly stood and slipped out of the classroom, heading toward the restrooms.
Shen An’s gaze tracked her, drawing the attention of Shen Lianyao, who sat quietly beside him.
Their eyes met. Shen An said softly, “You gonna make a move?”
Shen Lianyao shook her head.
“If you’re sitting this out, then I’ll stir things up.” Shen An figured she wouldn’t stoop to glad-handing anyway, so he rose on his own.
Shen Lianyao blinked in surprise. “I thought you weren’t running.”
“Right, I’m not. Just hitting the bathroom.”
“Again?”
“Weak kidneys.” Shen An shrugged.
Shen Lianyao averted her eyes, a faint look of disdain crossing her face.
Seeing it, Shen An boldly patted her shoulder. As she tensed in wary rejection, he murmured, “I’m gonna lobby for you. See if I can drum up some votes from the others.”
She froze, then caught on. “You mean lobby her?”
Her finger lightly tapped the empty seat right in front of them—Song Rui’s spot.
“More like lobbying her for you.”
Shen Lianyao replied coolly, “I don’t need that.”
“Let me put it another way: I want her to vote for you. Call it my personal stake in the game.”
“Why?” Shen Lianyao asked, her expression turning serious.
“Because if you snag class president, with our friendship, you could watch my back now and then.”
“That’s it?”
“That’s it.”
Shen An’s sheer audacity left Shen Lianyao staring, slack-jawed.
She furrowed her brow. “You’re into her, aren’t you? No need to drag me into it as cover.”
“Believe me or don’t.”
With that, Shen An headed out of the classroom toward the restrooms.
Shen Lianyao watched his retreating back, her lips twitching. “Weirdo.”
But as her gaze shifted to Wang Yuqiong bustling about the room, a flicker of worry crept into her cool eyes.
The restrooms lay at the end of the corridor.
As Shen An approached, he spotted Song Rui pacing anxiously on the opposite side, wringing her hands, her face etched with indecision.
She’d just doubled back from that direction when she looked up and saw him standing at the corner.
Shen An feigned a casual encounter, curiosity lighting his features.
The moment Song Rui saw him, embarrassment flushed over her conflicted expression—like getting caught in the act.
Oh crap!
Why him of all people?!
She ducked her head, aiming to slip past without a word, inwardly chanting, It’s fine, it’s fine…
“Song Rui, right?”
They were about to pass each other when Shen An spoke, saying her name.
His voice was low and warm, pairing perfectly with his handsome, sunny looks. The faint ripples in her heart churned into a full whirlpool.
“Yes!”
Song Rui halted, staring at him with naked nerves.
“You… here for the bathroom? Small world, haha—me too.”
Flustered, she jabbed a finger toward the restrooms, her smile polite but timid.
“You… you’re Shen An, right? The ‘An’ from safe. I remember. Oh, right—I’m Song Rui. Yeah, Song Rui!”
Shen An smiled to himself but stayed silent, just watching her.
His steady gaze only ratcheted up her panic. Words tumbled out in a rapid-fire ramble.
This girl’s kinda fun.
After her spiel trailed off into his silence, Song Rui ducked her head again, cheeks burning. She finally understood the stage fright Yang Bin must’ve felt up there.
What the hell was she blabbing about? Total gibberish…
He’d already introduced himself, and here she was, yammering her own name over and over…
Aaaah!
“Sorry…”
She mumbled weakly, still avoiding his eyes, and edged away to escape.
She’d died a social death right there in front of him.
He probably saw her as some weird airhead.
“Actually, I was gonna ask—got any tissue?”
Shen An gently caught her arm before she could bolt.
“Tissue? Yeah, I do.”
Oblivious in her daze, Song Rui fished around in her pocket… and pulled out tissue.
She froze as she held it out to him.
Silently, she withdrew it. “I only have wet wipes. You… think those work?”
Her big, bright eyes blinked up at him, brimming with shy vulnerability—the picture of timid girlhood.
Song Rui had refined, proper features, but an endearing goofiness shone through regardless.
Shen An stifled a laugh. “Know the difference between wet wipes and dry tissue?”
“Wh… what is it?”
“Wet wipes just make things wetter the more you wipe. Dry tissue makes ’em drier.”
“Oh…”
Song Rui nodded vaguely, like she half-got it.
Shen An: ?
The moment turned painfully awkward.
He blinked. She blinked back. They stared in mutual bewilderment, silence stretching taut.
“You… you were joking, right?”
Song Rui finally twigged.
Shen An rubbed his forehead and sighed.
“I… my bag’s got dry tissue. Sh-should I grab it for you?”
“No need. I held it.”
“Huh?? Oh…” Around him, Song Rui wilted into total submissiveness, much like Yang Bin with girls.
Three seconds ticked by. Then she whispered, “Holding it in’s bad for you. Can mess up your stomach. T-take care…”
Shen An flashed a carefree grin. “What about you? Said you were bathroom-bound, but aren’t they this way?”
“I… wasn’t really going.”
Song Rui muttered.
“Then what, fresh air?”
“Uh…”
“Or maybe you wanna run but can’t pick a spot?”
“Whoa, how’d you know!” Song Rui gasped.
“Wild guess.”
“Sh-should I go for it, you think?”
Her secret laid bare, she seized the chance to unload her turmoil on him.
“Mm, depends how ready you are up here.” He tapped his temple.
“Huh? Spell it out—I’m lost.”
“Here’s the deal: If you’re just testing the waters and cool with bombing, then yeah—throw your hat in, any role’ll do.”
“But if you’re dead set on winning your dream spot, and losing’ll crush you? Skip it.”
Shen An read her like a book, eyes locked on hers, catching every nuance in her expression.
When he finished, bewilderment clouded her face, deepening into heavy disappointment.
She murmured, “Guess I’ll pass, then.”
“Tsk, don’t bail that quick. What’re you eyeing? I might swing some help your way.”
“Really?” Song Rui lit up.
“Uh, spill first.”
“I… wanna be class president.”
“Peace out—can’t touch that.” Shen An pivoted to leave.
“Wait!” She clutched his arm this time. “O-okay, another one?”
“Duh. You beating Wang Yuqiong?”
“No way…” Song Rui deflated with a sigh.
“Funny thing—your dormmates are out there hustling. How come you’re solo, not hyping with ’em?”
Song Rui gave a wry smile at his probe. “Nah, not my scene to hustle.”
Shen An smirked. “Dorm beef already? School hasn’t even started.”
Dorm drama hit a nerve for most girls.
But Song Rui either shrugged it off or just trusted Shen An on instinct.
She shook her head, lips pursed. “No drama. Just… didn’t feel like it.”
“Just…”
She scratched her head thoughtfully. “Do you think Wang Yuqiong is… kind of standout?”
“Like… that sort of…”
“You mean she’s like a butterfly, really eye-catching?”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah!”
Song Rui nodded vigorously. “That’s exactly what I mean—like a butterfly, so bright and beautiful!”
“So you see her as the butterfly, and yourself as the plain one by her side. You don’t want to be her backdrop?”
“Not exactly…” Song Rui shook her head again. “Actually, Yuqiong is a really nice person. It’s my problem.”
A flicker of understanding dawned in Shen An’s mind.
Insecurity.
The kind of insecurity she didn’t want to admit out loud.
“What do you think I should pick?” Song Rui quickly changed the subject, clearly not wanting to dwell on it.
“Hmm, Class President is the most popular choice. Of the others—Discipline Committee Member, Study Committee Member, Cultural and Entertainment Committee Member, Propaganda Committee Member—which one?”
“I… I can’t decide. Why don’t you pick one for me?”
“Huh? That casual? It’s not like I’m the one running.”
“But I really don’t know what to choose…”
Song Rui stomped her foot, her face full of deflated little expressions as she gazed at Shen An with wide, pleading eyes, hoping he would decide for her.
Making decisions seemed like an incredibly difficult task for her.
Shen An rubbed his chin. The System’s task was only to help her out—it hadn’t said anything about fulfilling her exact wishes.
If Yang Bin was going for Study Committee Member…
Meeting her expectant stare, Shen An suddenly placed his hands on her shoulders and said gravely, “I’ve got it.”
“What?” Song Rui looked at him in blank anticipation.
“Study Committee Member!”
“Stu… Study Committee Member?”
“Yeah. I think it suits you perfectly, and not many people will be competing for it. You’re roommates with Wang Yuqiong, so as long as it doesn’t clash with her own campaign, she’ll support you.”
Song Rui nodded; it did sound reasonable.
But deep down, she didn’t really want to be Study Committee Member.
She had no clue what a Study Committee Member even did.
“What’s wrong? Does it overlap with your other two roommates?”
“No… neither of them is going for it.”
“Then why the long face?” Shen An chuckled lightly. “I’ve made the choice for you, but it still doesn’t match what you want. Truth is, you already know the answer in your heart, don’t you?”
Song Rui pursed her lips.
“Everyone does this—asking others for advice but subconsciously shooting down every suggestion.”
“So just follow your heart. Go for Class President.”
“Even if you fail, at least you won’t have any regrets.”
With that, Shen An turned away. “Now I’m really heading to the bathroom.”
Song Rui snapped out of her daze. “Wet wipes… do you still need the wet wipes?”
“I don’t want to squat here waiting till hell freezes over for it to dry.” Shen An waved her off and headed into the bathroom once more.
Song Rui stared blankly at the wet wipes in her hand. “What’s ‘hell freezes over’? Why wait for it to air-dry?”
She tilted her head, another question popping into her mind. “Didn’t he forget tissues? Even if wiping makes it wetter, it’s still better than nothing.”
