The wicked Tang Tianman had schemed against her innocent and pure little junior schoolmate for ages, and at last, just before the weekend arrived, she achieved her nefarious goal.
It had gone too smoothly.
All she had done was send a voice message in a pitiful tone: “I really wanna see what you all look like at the competition.” And Xi Chun had bitten the hook right away, thumping her chest and promising to send live photos and videos, then even edit a vlog afterward.
Tang Tianman fired off a string of “You’re the best!” stickers in reply.
Ruan Ruan had bounced back quickly. This illness had barely gotten started—just a quick shiver before the germs were brought under control—which let Tang Tianman head out with a lighter heart.
Okay, that sounded a bit off. Truth was, she was just putting a lot of stock in this trip.
The reasons were murky, hard to pin down. She and Zheng Xiyu were grinding away in different places, but that didn’t seem like quite enough justification.
And yet, somehow, it felt like more than enough.
Zheng Xiyu had left half a day earlier, traveling with her team, so Tang Tianman hadn’t gone to see her off.
Zheng Xiyu kept her updated via text about the itinerary, while Xi Chun bombarded her with photos and short clips.
Normally, when Tang Tianman spotted Zheng Xiyu in a crowd, she stood out like a sore thumb. If everyone drew a line across the top of their heads, she’d be out in front, blocking the view wherever she went.
But in Xi Chun’s photos, it was a different story. The whole team wore matching uniforms, sported the same hairstyles—even their walking postures had this uncanny similarity.
Zheng Xiyu was tall for the team, but not towering over everyone else to an unreachable degree. Watching the videos, Tang Tianman sometimes felt disoriented, losing track of Zheng Xiyu’s position for a moment, as if she’d blended seamlessly into the group.
She messaged Xi Chun back:
—They’re all so tall!
Xi Chun replied with enthusiastic agreement:
—Right? Right? Right? Why do they have to be so freakishly tall?!?!?
Tang Tianman laughed and asked:
—Are you the shortest on the team?
Xi Chun: …
Xi Chun: Baby’s feeling all wronged but won’t say a peep.jpg
Tang Tianman: No worries, I’m the shortest in my dorm too.
Tang Tianman: But they all listen to me.
Xi Chun: I…
Xi Chun: They never listen to me. Life’s not worth living anymore.jpg
Tang Tianman cracked up. Their online banter continued right up until the team boarded their flight.
Now it was time for her to get moving. Several other teachers and their students were heading to the conference together. They’d agreed to grab lunch beforehand and depart as a group.
On occasions like this, Tang Tianman naturally played the role of the dutiful student, towing her compact little suitcase packed light so as not to burden anyone.
She arrived early at the appointed restaurant. After a short wait, Teacher Li showed up.
Li Qingqing wasn’t much older herself and usually enjoyed hanging out with students. She’d told Tang Tianman once that it made her feel young again.
Spotting each other from afar, they waved. Tang Tianman hurried over to help with Teacher Li’s luggage.
Li Qingqing waved her off. “No need, no need. It’s not heavy.”
“Teacher, do you think I can’t handle it?” Tang Tianman teased with a smile.
“A little, yeah.” Li Qingqing winked.
“Then give me a chance to prove you wrong.” Tang Tianman flexed her arm. “I’ve got some muscle, you know.”
They were chatting and laughing when someone suddenly swooped in and grabbed Li Qingqing’s bag. She blinked in surprise and turned to look.
It was another teacher from their school—tall and heavyset, with a receding hairline. His face crinkled into folds when he smiled.
“Oh, thank you so much.” Li Qingqing exchanged pleasantries with him, then introduced her. “Teacher Bi, this is my student. Her name’s as sweet as she is—Tang Tianman.”
Bi Qilin turned to Tang Tianman and extended a hand. “Well, hello there, pretty young lady. Name suits you perfectly. What year are you?”
Tang Tianman gave her year and stepped forward for a handshake, bowing slightly. “Hello, Teacher Bi.”
Bi Qilin said, “The one I’m bringing is an even younger undergrad freshman. She went to grab something; she’ll be here soon.”
“Sounds good.” Li Qingqing smiled at Tang Tianman. “I was just worrying you’d get bored alone. You can hang out with Teacher Bi’s student.”
“Mm.” Tang Tianman nodded.
The three of them entered the private room. They hadn’t been chatting long before Tang Tianman had the full rundown on Teacher Bi’s illustrious achievements.
Not only was he one of the most senior professors around, but he also held a key administrative position in his department.
Teacher Li smoothly passed the conversation along, Teacher Bi chatted happily, and all Tang Tianman had to do was chime in now and then with an awed “Wow, that’s impressive.”
It was fairly painless.
She glanced out the window, growing a bit curious about what kind of freshman could catch this teacher’s eye.
More teachers and students trickled in bit by bit. Finally, the curtain parted, and someone entered with a respectful, “Teacher Bi.”
Tang Tianman froze. Xiao Ji bowed deeply to Bi Qilin. “Sorry I’m late.”
“No worries at all.” Bi Qilin beckoned her over. “You had to make an extra trip. Come on, let me introduce you to everyone.”
What followed was an endless round of introductions. For every teacher Bi Qilin presented, he explained their position and notable accomplishments to Xiao Ji in exhaustive detail. Tang Tianman grew weary just listening; watching Xiao Ji bow over and over again was even more exhausting.
By the time it came to Li Qingqing and Tang Tianman, she’d come to terms with the fact that the newcomer was Xiao Ji.
She stood and gave Xiao Ji a nod, sparing her yet another ninety-degree bow. “Hey, Xiao Ji.”
“Hello, Tang Tianman.” Xiao Ji smiled. “What a coincidence.”
Bi Qilin smelled gossip and jumped in. “You two know each other?”
To keep Xiao Ji from blurting anything earth-shattering, Tang Tianman cut in quickly. “We’ve crossed paths at a couple school events.”
“That’s even better.” Li Qingqing waved Xiao Ji over to sit beside her. “I was just thinking no one to keep our little one company. You’re the only two undergrads here—get to know each other.”
Tang Tianman kept smiling on the surface while inwardly cursing the heavens a hundred times over.
Xiao Ji settled in next to her, and the meal commenced—a banquet where everyone had their own agenda, but eating was the last thing on anyone’s mind.
In front of the teachers, Xiao Ji was a far cry from her usual self: not just obedient, but adorably so. She responded eagerly, with impeccable manners, high emotional intelligence, and broad knowledge. She was exactly the kind of kid elders adored.
Tang Tianman watched in amazement, careful not to steal her thunder.
Xiao Ji had done Bi Qilin proud, and Tang Tianman finally understood why, out of all his graduate students, he’d chosen to bring along a mere freshman.
Xiao Ji barely spoke to Tang Tianman over the meal—Tang Tianman figured she simply didn’t have the bandwidth.
Once the food was done, the vans to the airport arrived. While assigning seats, Xiao Ji suggested the students all pile into the mid-sized minivan.
The students had no objections, and after a brief discussion, the teachers agreed.
Xiao Ji waited for everyone else to board, but when Tang Tianman started to go, she tugged at her clothes.
“Hang on a sec,” Xiao Ji whispered.
Tang Tianman paused and looked up at her.
Xiao Ji leaned down, murmuring in her ear, “I need to talk to you.”
Tang Tianman thought, You always have something to say to me, and it’s never anything new.
But the circumstances were special today, and Xiao Ji’s expression held a solemn earnestness. Tang Tianman didn’t want to stir up trouble in front of everyone.
So she waited beside Xiao Ji until the others had loaded up, then climbed in.
Naturally, they took seats toward the front, leaving two side-by-side spots for them.
Tang Tianman exhaled and claimed the window seat. Xiao Ji sat beside her and reached up to crack the window. “Crack it a bit? Otherwise it’ll get stuffy.”
Tang Tianman leaned back, ensuring their bodies didn’t touch.
Xiao Ji opened the window a touch and turned. “Better?”
Tang Tianman couldn’t stand her leaning in so close to talk. She shoved Xiao Ji’s arm away. “We’ll see once the van’s moving.”
Xiao Ji took it good-naturedly, chuckled, and settled back.
The van pulled out and drove quietly for a stretch.
Tang Tianman asked Xiao Ji, “So, what did you want to say?”
Xiao Ji replied, “Not convenient in the van.”
Tang Tianman shot her a look that screamed, Are you nuts?
“See…” Xiao Ji glanced toward the back.
Tang Tianman’s temper flared; her tone sharpened. “What, then? Can’t you say it in front of everyone? Gotta wait till we’re alone in a hotel room, just the two of us?”
“What are you talking about?” Xiao Ji still wore a faint smile. “People might get the wrong idea.”
Suddenly, Tang Tianman saw her expression for what it was: as fake as the one she’d plastered on at lunch.
She turned away to face the window, done engaging.
A few seconds later, Xiao Ji tugged her sleeve. Tang Tianman whipped around, glaring. “What?!”
Xiao Ji gestured downward. Tang Tianman looked and saw the words Xiao Ji had typed into her phone’s notes app: Add me on WeChat. We can text.
Tang Tianman: “…”
She desperately wanted to bash Xiao Ji’s dog head in.
If this was just Xiao Ji’s player routine.
To confirm whether it was or not—so she could bash Xiao Ji’s dog head—she added her on WeChat. If Xiao Ji still didn’t get to the point, she’d unleash a spectacular, unforgettable barrage of profanity via text.
Xiao Ji must have sensed the irritable aura radiating from Tang Tianman. She didn’t waste a single word on small talk. The moment the friend verification went through on WeChat, her first message popped up:
“Be careful of Bi. Don’t get too close to him.”
Tang Tianman’s eyes widened in shock.
It was too much information to process all at once. She stared at the screen for a long time, making sure she hadn’t misunderstood Xiao Ji’s meaning. Then she looked up, her big eyes fixed on Xiao Ji, wondering if the woman was being serious.
Xiao Ji’s expression remained utterly solemn and grave. Tang Tianman opened her mouth, but no words came out.
Xiao Ji lowered her head and kept typing:
“Didn’t expect it to be such a coincidence, but I’m really happy you’re on this trip with me.”
A frenzy of thoughts exploded in Tang Tianman’s mind. She mentally fired off the first two that came to her: Who the hell wants to be ‘coincidental’ with you? This isn’t some damn vacation!
Then she forced her brain to pivot back to that earlier warning.
What was wrong with Bi Qilin? Why was Xiao Ji telling her to watch out for him?
At dinner earlier, Bi Qilin had certainly put on full display the sleazy traits of a middle-aged man, but he hadn’t done anything truly out of line. If anything, he’d been quite attentive to the women.
Did that mean he was hiding some dark secret or ulterior motive?
And the most baffling part of all: Xiao Ji was his prized disciple, the ultimate bootlicker on the surface—yet here she was, throwing shade at him behind his back without a shred of evidence.
For a moment, Tang Tianman didn’t know whether to be more afraid of Bi Qilin or Xiao Ji.
She clutched her phone, lost in a daze for what felt like ages, while Xiao Ji watched her the whole time.
The scrutiny made Tang Tianman’s skin crawl. She desperately wished she could call Zheng Xiyu right then and there, have her boot Xiao Ji to the curb and come take the seat beside her instead.
But of course, that was impossible.
Zheng Xiyu was probably still in the air or just boarding the airport shuttle. After all the preparation she’d poured into this competition, she needed absolute focus right now—no distractions.
Tang Tianman wouldn’t dream of dragging her over here, let alone burdening her with bad news.
Her phone buzzed. Tang Tianman glanced down. Another message from Xiao Ji:
“I don’t say things like this to just anyone. Don’t be scared—I’ll protect you.”
Far from feeling touched, Tang Tianman shifted in her seat, angling the screen away so Xiao Ji couldn’t see it.
Her fingers flew across the keyboard in the WeChat chat window—but the recipient wasn’t Xiao Ji.
In that instant, she felt an overwhelming urge to message Zheng Xiyu, just one simple line:
“I miss you.”
I miss you—even if those four words meant nothing at all.
