Chapter 43: Of Course It Was Strange

Of course it was strange. Chen Nian thought it was downright bizarre.

Fang Zhi had never shown such intense interest in anyone else—let alone someone she’d only just met, without exchanging a single word or even learning their name.

But since this strangeness all stemmed from Fang Zhi in Chen Nian’s case, the only way to uncover the reason was to ask her directly.

She stared at Fang Zhi, asking earnestly and meticulously, “What do you find strange about it?”

Fang Zhi’s expression shifted several times. “I can’t quite put my finger on it.”

Chen Nian: “…”

An extremely unpleasant feeling welled up in Chen Nian. No matter what the true reason for this strangeness was, it wasn’t going away anytime soon.

“Let’s go,” said Fang Zhi, changing the subject. “We still need to buy those workbooks later.”

Chen Nian could only shelve the matter for now. Before heading home, she pulled Lin Tianyi aside and whispered, “Tomorrow I’ll go with you to see the senior.”

Lin Tianyi: “Huh?”

Chen Nian: “Didn’t you just say you’d take responsibility for him? Backing out already?”

Lin Tianyi: “I’ll take responsibility, I’ll take responsibility.”

The next day brought crisp autumn weather and the official start of the school year.

Excitement bubbled just beneath the surface all across campus.

The moment Chen Nian and Fang Zhi stepped into the Grade 7 Class 1 classroom, every pair of eyes in the room locked onto Fang Zhi.

Surrounded by a bunch of scrawny little kids who hadn’t grown into themselves yet—like a field of underdeveloped turnips—Fang Zhi stood out like a beacon.

Her natural looks were top-tier to begin with, her poise impeccable, and everything she wore or carried oozed refined taste.

After all, it had all been carefully selected and styled by Chen Nian’s mother, who now only handled high-end custom tailoring.

But Fang Zhi had clearly grown accustomed to this kind of attention. She ignored the overly eager stares, calmly making her way to the front of the room. She glanced at the empty seats below the podium, then strode purposefully toward them with Chen Nian in tow.

That air of nonchalance only made her seem even more exceptional.

Before Fang Zhi could sit, Chen Nian meticulously wiped both their seats with a tissue. Once they were seated, Chen Nian cleaned the desktops while Fang Zhi unpacked the stationery they’d need from their bags—tucking away what belonged in the desk pockets and arranging the rest neatly on the surface.

The two moved in perfect harmony, murmuring quietly to each other about anything that came up, leaving no opening for anyone else to insert themselves.

They passed the morning in this novel yet utterly ordinary fashion. During the afternoon break, Chen Nian went off to find Lin Tianyi as planned.

She didn’t ask Fang Zhi to come along, simply saying she had something to discuss with him.

Fang Zhi glanced at her and murmured a soft “Mm.” Chen Nian had already taken two steps away when she doubled back to ruffle Fang Zhi’s hair. “Want any snacks? I’ll grab some for you.”

“No,” Fang Zhi said, shaking her head.

Chen Nian smiled. “Then after school it is.”

The break didn’t last long, so Chen Nian hurried to Lin Tianyi’s classroom door and beckoned him. He bolted out to meet her.

They raced down the stairs and across half the campus before finally reaching the Third-Year Building.

Chen Nian craned her neck to gaze up at the four-story structure. “Which class is he in again?”

Lin Tianyi: “Which class is he in?”

Chen Nian: “You don’t even know your savior’s class?”

Lin Tianyi: “He’s not my savior. I bumped into him.”

Chen Nian flashed a frosty smile. “Oh, right—the victim. No wonder you don’t know.”

She sidled up to a cluster of nearby students. “Hello, seniors! Do any of you know Senior Wen Zhengnan? Which class is he in?”

With his striking looks and aura, plus being president of the Drama Club—a club that practically screamed pretension—he had to be a campus celebrity.

Chen Nian was spot on. Someone in the group quickly piped up. “Class 3. He’s in Class 3.”

“Thanks, senior!” Chen Nian bowed deeply to the girl who’d answered. “You’re gorgeous and so kind!”

Then she yanked Lin Tianyi along as they dashed upstairs to Class 3.

By the time they reached the door, both were panting hard.

Chen Nian slapped Lin Tianyi on the back. “Hurry up and call out your victim.”

Lin Tianyi looked sheepish. “I…”

A voice came from behind them. “What are you two doing here?”

Chen Nian whipped around to see that strange senior girl.

“Whoa,” Chen Nian said with a sigh. “Talk about a coincidence, senior.”

It really was convenient—no need for any more roundabout inquiries.

The girl frowned faintly, her arms laden with a thick stack of workbooks. “You’re blocking the door.”

“Back up, back up.” Chen Nian tugged Lin Tianyi aside but stepped forward herself, deftly relieving the girl of half the stack. “Here, let me help you with those, senior. That’s way too much to carry.”

The girl: “You…”

Chen Nian turned and headed into the classroom. “Where’s your seat, senior? Or should I put them on the podium?”

The girl stood motionless outside the door. In the classroom, Wen Zhengnan looked up. “Eh? Why are you here?”

Chen Nian chimed in casually, “Senior Wen, there’s someone at the door looking for you.”

The classroom fell into a hush as half the gazes drifted over.

Kids loved this sort of thing—watching students from other classes or grades come searching for someone in their own. A few simple actions were all it took to spark a full-blown tale of teenage heartache in their imaginations.

Wen Zhengnan shot to his feet, took off his glasses, and headed out. “Who is it?”

Chen Nian smiled. “The culprit.”

When Wen Zhengnan reached the door, Chen Nian turned to the puzzled senior girl. “Senior, why didn’t you come in?”

Wen Zhengnan paused for a beat, then burst out laughing. He turned to Chen Nian. “She’s not from our class.”

Chen Nian: “Ah.”

Talk about embarrassing.

She’d pulled off what she thought was a slick maneuver, fierce as a tiger—only to end up looking like a fool on the podium of a stranger’s classroom.

Chen Nian backed away. “Sorry to bother you.”

At the doorway, Wen Zhengnan was chatting with Lin Tianyi, who kept shooting frantic glances her way. Chen Nian ignored him and asked the senior girl, “Which class are you from, Senior? I can help carry it over for you.”

“No need,” the girl said. “Just give the stuff back.”

Her head was clear enough—she knew Chen Nian had snatched those workbooks.

Chen Nian grinned, refusing to play along. “Nope. I want to help carry the senior’s things. If no one else cares about you, I do.”

The girl’s brows furrowed tight enough to crush a walnut. Her mouth twitched, and her words came out cold and biting: “Who do you think you—”

Wen Zhengnan turned and cut her off. “Zhixiao, the junior wants to help carry them. Just let her.”

Chen Nian’s smile faltered. “Senior, what… is the senior’s name?”

Wen Zhengnan: “Zhixiao. Fang Zhixiao—the ‘zhi’ from knowledge, the ‘xiao’ from not realizing dawn in spring sleep.”

Chen Nian’s grip slackened, and the things in her hands clattered to the floor.

Lin Tianyi yelped in surprise and rushed over to help pick them up. “Senior Wen, Senior Fang, sorry! She—she didn’t mean to. It was an accident…”

Wen Zhengnan hurried over too, joining in to gather the workbooks.

Fang Zhixiao didn’t budge. She stared at Chen Nian, their eyes locking. Chen Nian’s mind rang like thunder.

She racked her brain, trying to remember if Fang Zhizhu had ever mentioned a Fang Zhixiao in her previous life.

Nothing. Not a single recollection.

But it couldn’t be a coincidence. No way.

Similar names in the same school? Maybe. But yesterday’s chance encounter, and Fang Zhi’s unusual attention toward her—pure coincidence? Impossible.

Chen Nian studied Fang Zhixiao’s face closely—her bone structure, features, skin. No obvious similarities.

Yet that aura of hers, that cold, disdainful expression—Chen Nian knew it all too well.

Lin Tianyi and Wen Zhengnan finished picking up the workbooks. Wen Zhengnan glanced between Chen Nian and Fang Zhixiao. “Class is starting soon. You two juniors should head back.”

Fang Zhixiao looked away, stepped up to Wen Zhengnan, and had him hand over the workbooks. Without sparing Chen Nian another glance, she turned and walked toward her own classroom.

Chen Nian stood there in a daze. Lin Tianyi tugged at her sleeve. “Chen Nian, Chen Nian—let’s go.”

Chen Nian blinked. “You done talking with the senior?”

Lin Tianyi: “Yeah, he’s fine. No need for me to come check on him specially.”

“No way,” Chen Nian drawled. “We’ll have to come by again.”

Wen Zhengnan overheard and sighed helplessly. “Really, no need…”

Chen Nian didn’t look back, just pulled Lin Tianyi along as they left.

Time was short. They reached the First-Year Building just as the first bell rang.

They hurried upstairs and returned to their classrooms. Chen Nian had barely plopped into her seat when the teacher walked in.

She was still out of it. Fang Zhi glanced her way, but Chen Nian avoided her eyes.

All through class, Chen Nian kept her head craned toward the teacher. When the bell rang, her neck felt stiff as a board.

She rolled it gingerly, and Fang Zhi’s fingers pinched her nape. “Does it hurt?”

Chen Nian nearly jumped out of her skin. “Ahh—no need, I’m fine!”

Fang Zhi’s fingers hovered there, her brows knitting. Chen Nian scrambled to explain. “I can work it out myself. All good, all good. Your hands are cold—scared me half to death.”

Fang Zhi pulled her hand back and stared at the notebook on the desk. “Next period, we’re rearranging seats.”

Chen Nian: “Ah, okay.”

Fang Zhi: “We can pick our own.”

Chen Nian: “Ah, for real?”

Fang Zhi: “Top ten scorers can.”

Chen Nian broke into a bright smile. “That’s perfect.”

Fang Zhi said, “If you want to sit with someone else, then don’t sit next to me.”

Chen Nian froze.

Fang Zhi still wouldn’t look at her. Her fingers fidgeted beneath the desk pocket, producing only the faintest rustle from her clothes.

“Tch.” Chen Nian raised her voice. “Who else would I want to sit with besides you? The whole class has been eyeing you like wolves. I can’t just hand my precious baby over to someone else.”

Fang Zhi said nothing. Chen Nian decided to share a harmless tidbit. “During the last period, I dragged Lin Tianyi to track down that senior we ran into yesterday. He’s still hung up on him. Mostly, though, I wanted to pump him for info about the Drama Club on your behalf.”

Fang Zhi finally turned her head. “Really?”

“Of course, guaranteed.” Chen Nian grinned. “You haven’t formally studied acting yet, but you’ll need to eventually. The school’s Drama Club might not have top-tier teachers, but acting is all about practice anyway. You can’t pair up with me for scenes, though—I don’t have the chops…”

“You do,” Fang Zhi insisted.

“？？？？”

“I really don’t,” Chen Nian protested.

“Our performance last time was great,” Fang Zhi said.

Chen Nian patted her arm. “Aw, Zhizhi, that’s not my scene. Don’t push it. I’m thrilled just watching you light up the stage.”

Fang Zhi slumped forward onto her desk. She didn’t speak to Chen Nian again for the rest of the period.

During homeroom, the teacher began assigning seats. Everyone gathered their things and filed out of the classroom, then reentered one by one in order of rank.

Fang Zhi went first. She claimed an ideal spot by the aisle, set down her bag, and sat.

Chen Nian ended up with one seat between them. The second-ranked student scanned the room hesitantly before heading toward Fang Zhi.

She glanced at Fang Zhi and raised her hand slightly. “I’d like the inside seat.”

Chen Nian hovered by the door, her heart in her throat.

She watched Fang Zhi intently, terrified that a moment of spite might hand the desk to someone else.

The classroom fell silent for several seconds—Chen Nian’s pulse hanging in suspense just as long. Then Fang Zhi spoke. “Someone’s already there.”

“？？？？” The second-ranked student blinked.

“The teacher didn’t say we could save seats,” she pointed out.

“I don’t want to sit with you. Sorry,” Fang Zhi replied.

The second-ranked student’s face turned beet red. She spun on her heel and dropped into a random empty seat across the room.

Chen Nian exhaled in relief. She hurried over to Fang Zhi. “Make way—I’m coming in.”

Fang Zhi didn’t budge.

“？？？？”

Chen Nian’s heart lurched again. She leaned in, whispering urgently, “Zhizhi, I’m sorry. Whatever I did to upset you, I was wrong. Let me in, please? Good sister, best deskmate…”

Fang Zhi scooted her stool forward, clearing the space.

Chen Nian squeezed past and sank into her seat with a long, shaky breath.

Homeroom ended, and school let out. Chen Nian had the whole afternoon to make amends.

It wasn’t anything major, and Fang Zhi wasn’t hard to soothe. By the time they got home, all was forgiven.

Once they’d retreated to their separate rooms for homework, though, Chen Nian gnawed on her pen and drifted into thought. Fang Zhi paused over her problems now and then, staring blankly.

Both lost in thoughts of the same person.