Chapter 30: The Submissive, Obsessive Top Student Part 1

The weather in early October still carried the sweltering heat of midsummer, but autumn breezes had begun to stir. Another monthly exam took place at the end of September, and the overall scores came out quite well. The school announced the next day that they would hold a two-day sports meet.

This was the final sports meet of their senior year of high school, intended to ease the high-strung mindset of third-year students. Without a single chance to catch their breath under such intense pressure, accidents were all too likely to happen.

The sports meet lasted just two days. As soon as class ended, a crowd gathered around Class Leader Song Zhiming’s desk, chattering noisily about which events they wanted to sign up for. Shi Qingyi propped her cheek on one hand while doodling on her scratch paper with the other, no one knew what she was up to.

Jiang Zhiyi sat beside her, seriously working through practice problems. Of course, the workbook was Shi Qingyi’s. She wrote diligently but would sneak peeks at her now and then before quickly turning back, like a timid little hamster.

“That’s the ninth time,” the System announced in awe, dutifully keeping count.

A single recess lasted only half an hour, and she’d already stolen nine glances. How much did she have to like her to never tire of looking?

Shi Qingyi’s pen paused, leaving a long scratch mark on the paper.

By the time class was about to start, most of the events had been settled. Song Zhiming frowned at the remaining ones and pointed to the girls’ 1500m and 800m. “Can anyone take these? We can’t have zero participants in an event.”

Running the 800m took courage; running the 1500m was suicidal. The group around him scattered like startled birds at his words, afraid of getting roped in.

Deng Sisi, who sat nearby, glanced up and down the list and tapped a name with her pen. “Isn’t there someone who hasn’t signed up for anything? Since she won’t sign up herself, we can do it for her.”

With that, she ticked off the 1500m and 800m next to Jiang Zhiyi’s name. She glanced further down and added, “Tug-of-war and relay seem short on people too? Let’s sign her up for those as well.”

Two days of running the 1500m plus the 800m, on top of relay— even Song Zhiming’s expression shifted. But with no one else signing up, there was no choice. After a moment’s thought, he said nothing.

Jiang Zhiyi hadn’t refused, after all.

“Who else?” Deng Sisi was about to tick off another name when she spotted Shi Qingyi’s. She froze and yanked her hand back.

She only picked on soft targets. This one she didn’t dare touch.

Song Zhiming shook his head in resignation and walked toward the back of the classroom with the sign-up sheet. Shi Qingyi had transferred in during sophomore year and had a somewhat aloof personality, not close to anyone. As a boy, he didn’t dare just call out to her casually, so he settled for, “Classmate Shi.”

“This sports meet requires everyone to participate. Which event would you like, Classmate Shi? I’ll sign you up.”

Shi Qingyi flipped her scratch paper over to block his view and politely reached for the sheet. “No need. I’ll look myself.”

Her outstretched hand was fair and delicate. As she took the sheet, she accidentally brushed his arm. Suddenly, Song Zhiming felt an intensely cold gaze land on him. He turned in confusion but saw no one— only Jiang Zhiyi holding her pen to her lips, seemingly lost in thought.

Shi Qingyi ran the pen cap down the list, pausing at a certain name. She flipped the pen and swiftly crossed out the 1500m and 800m.

Song Zhiming gaped in shock and reached out to try to salvage it. “Classmate Shi, did you… make a mistake?”

Forget that school forms weren’t to be scribbled on— that wasn’t even her name.

—It was Jiang Zhiyi’s.

“She has a cold. Any issue with her skipping these two?” Shi Qingyi leaned back, dodging his grab for the sheet. She glanced sideways. “Do you want to run them?”

Jiang Zhiyi, who had been quietly watching, was caught red-handed. She hurriedly shook her head in agreement, stammering with newfound courage, “N-No— I don’t—”

It was her first time rejecting so directly. Song Zhiming jumped in surprise and gave her a strange look.

Shi Qingyi continued scanning downward and casually crossed out tug-of-war and relay too, deciding for her. “She doesn’t want these either.”

Song Zhiming’s face darkened, his tone turning sharp. “She has to do at least one, right?”

She did have to do one. Shi Qingyi’s pen hovered between long jump and shot put before ticking the 4kg shot put.

“Just this one for her. Volleyball for me.” She handed the sheet back, utterly unfazed by his pot-black expression. “Thanks, Class Leader.”

Song Zhiming’s face was thunderous. He said nothing and returned to his seat. Before sitting, though, he suddenly glanced back with a weird, disgusted look.

Jiang Zhiyi was used to such looks of disgust and anger, but this blatant malice wasn’t just aimed at her— it targeted Shi Qingyi too. She suddenly felt agitated.

She stared at Song Zhiming’s back for a long while, a chill rising in her heart, when someone suddenly knocked her head. It didn’t hurt— just a tap with a pen.

“Still staring? Do your homework.”

Jiang Zhiyi obediently withdrew her gaze, rubbed her forehead, and didn’t dare look anymore.

—

A violent storm hit on Friday, thunder crashing and jolting Shi Qingyi awake from sleep.

The System shook her frantically. “Host! Host! Wake up quick!”

Shi Qingyi draped her arm over her eyes, groggy. “What now?”

Couldn’t they let her sleep in on a Friday? Was there no humanity in this forced overtime?

“Get up! Jiang Zhiyi’s at the complex downstairs right now!”

Shi Qingyi blanked for a second, then bolted upright, threw on some clothes, and rushed out.

“Umbrella! Umbrella! Grab an umbrella!” the System yelled urgently.

Shi Qingyi mashed the elevator button, rubbing her aching forehead in the meantime. “Why is she here?”

She lived in a high-end complex near the school with strict security that rarely let outsiders in.

“She was tutoring third-grade math over the weekend but just got kicked out.”

“Why?”

The System hesitated. “…Jiang Jun knows the family. She went over and exaggerated, saying Jiang Zhiyi was a lesbian. The little girl had just gotten sick and thrown up all over her. She helped change the clothes, and well—”

What kind of luck was this? Jiang Zhiyi didn’t have a villain halo; she had a jinx halo.

Shi Qingyi’s eyelid twitched. The elevator doors opened, and she dashed out.

“Where is she now?” Rain poured in sheets, visibility zero in the white blur. Summer rain stung like needles.

The System acted as a manual GPS, guiding her until they found a huddled figure by the railing near the Artificial Lake. She was drenched head to toe, wearing only a thin white dress, shoulders shaking as if still crying.

Shi Qingyi approached and patted her back. She startled like a frightened animal, thinking it was security, and looked up in panic. “I’ll leave right away… Sorry… I…”

Then she saw the golden-haired girl holding an umbrella, frowning at her, blocking the downpour.

One look, and her grievances erupted without warning. Tears mixed with rain, dripping down her face. Wet hair clung to her heartbreakingly thin features. She looked utterly pitiful.

Shi Qingyi’s heart ached dully. She quickly looked away. “Enough. Stop crying and come upstairs first.”

She reached to pull her up, but Jiang Zhiyi, who’d been squatting too long, stood shakily and nearly collapsed. Shi Qingyi steadied her, only for her to swat the hand away.

Tears filled Jiang Zhiyi’s eyes as she covered them with her arm. She sniffled, summoning courage to speak. “Classmate Shi, I can’t take you teasing me like this. Once is enough… Don’t do it again and again…”

Because I’ll fall for it again and again.

You give a little gentleness, and I believe it. It might mean nothing to you, but to me, it’s everything. You offer that bit of warmth, then push me away— I can’t handle the drop.

She trembled, tears streaming.

Shi Qingyi froze. Rain pounded, choked sobs in her ears. She seemed cornered, shrunken at the edge of the deluge, alone in the vast world.

In the end, Shi Qingyi dragged her upstairs.

The rain worsened, and there was only one umbrella. They shuffled awkwardly forward, her arm supporting her. Jiang Zhiyi’s legs were numb, but her heart raced faster. The umbrella covered so little; they pressed too close. Her soaked clothes left her nearly buried in Shi Qingyi’s shoulder.

Shi Qingyi had rushed out in just a nightgown under a baggy khaki coat, enveloping her. Their skin nearly touched.

Afraid of chilling her with wet clothes, Jiang Zhiyi tried to pull away. Shi Qingyi irritably tightened her hold. “What are you running for? It’s just one umbrella.”

She fell back, right against Shi Qingyi’s chest.

At the door, Jiang Zhiyi hesitated. Shi Qingyi opened it and turned. “Coming in or not?”

Like a scared kitten, she peeked but didn’t approach. Shi Qingyi wasn’t extravagant materially, but her home screamed privilege at a glance— earrings she wore daily were pricey jewelry worth at least seven figures, she’d overheard classmates whisper.

Shi Qingyi yanked her in and kicked the door shut. It was a duplex apartment, styled fresh and cool-toned. Jiang Zhiyi stared at her dripping self, awkward wherever she stood.

“What are you spacing out for? Go shower.” Shi Qingyi tossed the umbrella aside, grabbed a towel and threw it at her, then adjusted the bathroom water temp. Her tone was a bit gruff. “Want to catch another cold?”

That set her off— she sneezed. Eyes watery, she gazed at her. Freshly rained-on and cried-out, she looked ready to tear up again.

“Bathroom’s there. Go.” Shi Qingyi looked away, feeling oddly uneasy, avoiding her eyes.

Jiang Zhiyi’s lips drooped, but she clutched the towel and went in. Only in the mirror did she understand Shi Qingyi’s averted gaze.

—The thin dress clung transparently from the rain, bra straps digging visibly into her shoulders…

Her own face flushed. Good thing Shi Qingyi had come; how would she have gotten home otherwise?

Wait— how did Shi Qingyi know she was here? She’d never appeared before her, just stolen glances—

Did Shi Qingyi know she’d picked this tutoring gig on purpose near her complex? Did she think it creepy?

Anxiety surged. Her fingers gripped the tub edge until the hot water relaxed her, lifting the weight from her heart, giving her a moment’s reprieve.

The water cooled fast. She dunked her head, fumbling nearby— left hot, right cold…

Shi Qingyi sat zoning out on the sofa when the bathroom door cracked open. The girl peeked out, cheeks flushed from steam. “I-I have no clothes…”

She clutched at her chest, wrapped loosely in a large bath towel, exposing slender collarbones and shoulders.

The dress was unwearable. Shi Qingyi snapped to, her face reddening. She scrambled for clothes, held them up— no good.

She was nearly 5’7″; Jiang Zhiyi barely 5’2″. Sizes didn’t match.

She voiced her long-held question. “Will she grow taller?”

The System checked. “Her adult height is about 5’4″, but with half-paralysis, she can’t stand, so it’s hard to tell.”

Got it. Shi Qingyi nodded and calmly shut down the System.

The System: “???”

“What did I do wrong?!” Why treat me like this!

Shi Qingyi stayed serene. “Nothing. Just in the mood.”

The System: “…”

Click. Screen flashed; it tearfully shut up.

Shi Qingyi finally grabbed an unworn dress— a cutesy one her mom had sent that she’d never bothered with.

Jiang Zhiyi was a bit shorter, but her figure was surprisingly good. She usually wore a school uniform that hid it all, but that skirt accentuated her slender waist and curves. She walked over in slippers, looking somewhat awkward, until Shi Qingyi pulled her close.

The blonde girl knelt on the sofa and picked up the hairdryer to blow-dry her hair. Jiang Zhiyi’s hair was soft and clung to her scalp, its light brown color suggesting mild malnutrition. Yet she was so obedient it tugged at the heart, nestling there as Shi Qingyi handled her.

The fine, soft strands slipped through her fingers, warm air brushing her scalp. Jiang Zhiyi docilely lowered her head, letting Shi Qingyi wipe her ears and nape clean.

No one had ever blow-dried her hair like this before—winter or summer, it always air-dried naturally. She grew drowsy, only to be suddenly scratched under the chin like a little cat.