Chapter 7

It happened right after she’d been dancing in the lab and suddenly run into the aloof class president—who had watched her all by herself—and the two-plus months since then when they’d grown familiar on their own terms.

Truth be told, Bo Ranying had wanted to get to know the class president for ages.

On her very first day at school, her parents had brought her to campus to handle enrollment. Together, they’d checked the bulletin board to see which class she’d been assigned to.

The place was packed that day. A huge crowd had jammed up the area around the board, leaving no room to squeeze through.

Bo Ranying hung back while her parents craned their necks up front, scanning the class lists one by one for her name.

She took her time, her gaze drifting lazily over the names on the sheet in front of her.

The very first name on the list was Nan Qi—

She thought, what an unusual surname. Boy or girl?

She murmured it to herself in her mind: Nan Qi.

As if on cue, right after she’d read it silently, someone nearby called out the name.

“Nan Qi! As expected of you—top of the heap at No.1 Middle School without even trying!”

“Nan Qi, you’re in Class 8. No need to check anymore.”

“Come on, does Nan Qi need your help looking? She just glances at the top three in each class. The lists are ranked by entrance exam scores—are you doubting our Nan Qi’s skills?”

“…”

Bo Ranying turned toward the voices and spotted a group of four or five boys and girls clustered together not far off, chatting and laughing. They clearly knew Nan Qi well—probably her junior high classmates.

Nan Qi herself had to be in that bunch somewhere. Bo Ranying’s curious eyes swept over every face in view.

Luckily, she didn’t have to wait long for the answer.

As her wide round eyes darted from one unfamiliar face to the next, a clear, melodic girl’s voice rang out: “Thanks.” It was like the gentle pluck of a guitar string, and Bo Ranying’s searching gaze locked instantly onto the girl’s face.

She froze in place. Nan Qi had burst into her vision just like that, leaving her only enough time to think: Ah, so she’s a girl.

The girl wore a crisp white short-sleeved T-shirt paired with a light gray pleated skirt. Her straight black hair cascaded over her shoulders, held back from her ears with two hair clips. She had a white backpack slung over her shoulders and was tilting her head slightly, listening intently to what the others were saying.

The profile she showed was serene, her expression cool, but the overall impression was one of striking gentleness. Her features flowed with a breathtaking beauty like a snowy mountain lake—aloof, lofty, tranquil, impossible to ignore.

In that single glance, Bo Ranying felt a powerful spark of interest in this Nan Qi. She wanted to meet her, to learn more about her, to become her friend.

Once the class assignments were out, Nan Qi and the group didn’t stick around. They wandered off on their own.

Nan Qi passed right by her, oblivious, as if no one else existed.

A moment later, her parents called out in delight: “Ranran, we found your name! Class 8, Grade 1 High School.”

A thrill shot through Bo Ranying’s heart. Her first thought was, perfect—same class as Nan Qi. She’d have first dibs on getting to know her.

But after formal enrollment and classes started, Bo Ranying learned the hard way that dreams are beautiful, but reality is harsh.

Though they were in the same class, they barely crossed paths.

Nan Qi had been handpicked as class president by their homeroom teacher right from the start. Bo Ranying, meanwhile, had been tapped as Arts Committee Member and English Subject Representative thanks to her childhood ballet training and stellar English scores.

Nan Qi was just so distant. She kept to herself, with no close friends, radiating an aura that kept everyone at arm’s length. Yet her vibe wasn’t gloomy—far from it. She was simply cool and solitary, hard to approach. She cared little for anything beyond competitions and studies. During breaks, she sat at her desk reading or solving problems. When classmates asked for help with homework or borrowed her exercise books to copy, she never turned them down.

Behind her back, the class had nicknamed her the High Ridge Flower. Everyone agreed it fit her perfectly.

Bo Ranying wasn’t so sure.

She wasn’t shy, really. From childhood on, anyone she set her sights on befriending always ended up as a friend.

But with Nan Qi, she always came up short. She’d rehearsed countless opening lines and scenarios, only for them to vanish the moment she met those clear, sharp eyes. The words died in her throat.

Since the start of term, their only interactions had been class officer handoffs. Nothing more.

So when Bo Ranying was practicing dance in the lab and Nan Qi became her unexpected audience outside, Bo Ranying was over the moon.

It was a golden opportunity at last—a real excuse to close the gap!

From then on, whenever she spotted Nan Qi from afar, she’d wave and call out. She loved the startled, suspicious looks Nan Qi shot her way—it was endlessly amusing. Bo Ranying invited her to every gathering or event. Nan Qi didn’t always say yes, but she seemed to enjoy watching her dance. She never turned down dance-related invites… In short, with stubborn persistence, Bo Ranying carved her name into Nan Qi’s world. She became the only one in Class 8 to touch the High Ridge Flower.

Step by step, she was working toward becoming Nan Qi’s friend.

Two months later, as Arts Committee Member, Bo Ranying was in charge of the class blackboard newspaper. She roped in two classmates to help finish most of it, then sent them home ahead while she stayed to wrap up the rest.

By the time she stepped out of the classroom, night had fully fallen. The world was cloaked in inky darkness, save for the faint yellow glow spilling from the street outside the school gates.

The campus was deathly quiet. She rounded a corner, and a sudden gust whipped up, flapping the hem of her school uniform.

Bo Ranying hugged her sleeves tight, suddenly recalling the campus ghost stories she’d heard. Nighttime on school grounds felt like it hid things that vanished by day. She quickened her pace.

“Woo woo woo… woo… woo woo woo.”

A few dozen meters later, a sobbing sound sent chills racing over her scalp. Clutching her chest—her heart pounding like it might leap out—she mustered her courage and called out, “Wh-who’s there?!”

The crying stopped dead.

Two seconds passed, then the evening breeze carried more choked sobs.

Eerie, drifting, impossible to pin down.

“Quit playing ghost!” Bo Ranying’s voice trembled now.

She stuck out her neck, psyching herself up: “D-don’t think I can’t handle you! I’ve got a shield—a weapon! This jade pendant I’m wearing? A temple master blessed it. It wards off evil and brings good luck…”

No dice this time. The crying went on at its own steady rhythm, ignoring her threats entirely.

Bo Ranying was starting to calm down, though. She followed the sound and ended up near the lab’s little grove of trees. Peering in from the edge, she saw Nan Qi—their class president—huddled against a tree root. She had her knees drawn up, arms wrapped around them, crying with heartbreaking vulnerability.

After everyone else had gone home, she’d come back alone… to cry in secret.

It took Bo Ranying several seconds to process that.

Under the moonlight, Nan Qi’s pale face glistened with crystalline tears—precious as pearls…

The class president, who seemed indifferent to everything and carried herself with such lofty detachment, was sobbing in hiccuping gasps now. She was on the verge of collapse. Something truly awful must have happened.

Bo Ranying’s heart shattered.

Without a second thought, her mind flashed to how her dad comforted her mom when she was upset.

She bolted over, dropped into a squat, cupped Nan Qi’s tear-streaked face where it was buried in her knees, and gazed tenderly into her vacant, lost eyes. Then she pulled her into a tight hug. “Nan Qi…”

She just said her name and held on fiercely.

Nan Qi let herself be held, her chin soon resting on Bo Ranying’s slim but strong shoulder. Tears poured out, soaking a wide patch.

The hot tears seeped through the fabric to Bo Ranying’s skin.

A dull ache filled Bo Ranying’s chest.

Who on earth would make the class president this heartbroken?

What Nan Qi might not realize was how much Class 8 adored her. Even if she wasn’t chatty and always kept a cool face, she had sky-high popularity. Everyone respected her as class president—not just for her grades.

No one wanted to see her upset. No one could have made her cry.

Bo Ranying didn’t know how others would feel seeing the class president’s tears. She only knew her own heart felt gripped by an invisible hand. She wished Nan Qi would stop crying, snap back to normal.

She raised a hand to pat Nan Qi’s back gently, babbling clumsy comforts.

“Class president, want some pan-fried buns? There’s a new spot at Sailboat Night Market—super tasty! I’ll treat you after this. Let’s go!”

“…I don’t know what happened, but Nan Qi, when you’re ready to talk, you can tell me. My lips are sealed.”

“If you keep crying, class president, my bones might fill with water and I’ll get rheumatism.”

“Class president…”

In a daze, she remembered the pack of wet wipes in her bag. Keeping the hug steady, she fumbled one out, pulled a sheet free, and meticulously wiped the tear tracks from Nan Qi’s face.

But Nan Qi’s tear ducts were like a faucet with the valve wide open—impossible to staunch. Wipe them away, and fresh ones welled up instantly.

Her eyes were puffy and red, her nose and mouth too. She looked just like a little rabbit.

So cute—

Her plump lips were pink and puffy, full and glistening. They looked utterly adorable—and incredibly kissable.

Bo Ranying’s gaze locked uncontrollably onto those lips, curiosity bubbling up about what Nan Qi’s mouth would taste like.

Nan Qi’s tears fell silently, soaking her eyes in the blink of an eye. Bo Ranying squeezed the wet wipe and pressed it over Nan Qi’s eye sockets, her fingertips gripping the edge while her other hand cupped Nan Qi’s chin. Succumbing to impulse, she leaned in and kissed her lips.

They parted at once, Bo Ranying pulling back just a little.

She tasted the bitterness of tears mingled with a faint green apple scent. The subtle bitterness and sweetness intertwined, melting into a uniquely special flavor.

The girl’s endless stream of tears halted abruptly.

At the same time, Nan Qi’s body began to struggle.

Bo Ranying silently peeled away the wet wipe and met Nan Qi’s wide, panicked eyes. Disbelief spread across that delicate, palm-sized face.

The only thing Bo Ranying noticed was that Nan Qi had stopped crying. She’d racked her brain for comforting words, but nothing had worked to stem the class president’s tears. A kiss, though? It had done the trick?

Heavens, that was too effective!

Noticing Nan Qi was still hiccuping softly, Bo Ranying approached it like a scientific experiment—or perhaps like someone who had only whetted her appetite. With serious, meticulous care, she pressed her lips close once more, rubbing and turning against the girl’s soft petals.

This time, the kiss lasted a long while.

As they finally parted, Bo Ranying instinctively caught Nan Qi’s lip between hers and suckled it a few times.

Nan Qi’s cheeks exploded in crimson. Her ears burned from lobe to tip. She’d long forgotten why she’d been crying in the first place.

“Want some pan-fried buns?”

“Yeah.”

Bo Ranying helped Nan Qi to her feet. Nan Qi’s mind drifted far away, her face flushed like a ripe peach as she followed the Arts Committee Member out of the school grounds.

From that moment on, their relationship rocketed to new heights of intimacy. They became addicted to the taste of kisses.

They often met in the little grove to kiss, stealing every spare second amid classes and crowds, exchanging breaths and heartbeats in feverish moments.

In this phase, where a single glance could ignite sparks, they enjoyed a long stretch of harmony. Nan Qi evolved from shock and confusion into habit, then outright enjoyment.

The turning point came one weekend, when Bo Ranying invited Nan Qi over to her house to do homework.

In the midst of working through the problems, Nan Qi dropped a bombshell and confessed to her.