Chapter 39: The Submissive, Obsessive Top Student

The matter with Song Zhiming turned into an absolute mess. No. 3 Middle School’s winter break was already quite generous compared to other schools—about ten days or so, extending even past the sixth day of the new year.

Before leaving school, there was an assembly that the entire school had to attend. Song Zhiming, not giving anyone any face, demanded a thorough check of the surveillance footage. He firmly believed that someone had deliberately locked him in the equipment room.

His uncle couldn’t talk him down, so he went straight up on stage and begged the principal. The scene grew extremely awkward at one point, with thousands of students from the whole school watching him lose it, babbling incoherently and refusing to believe it was his own fault.

Jiang Zhiyi was a bit shorter, so she looked like she was just peering over Shi Qingyi’s shoulder ahead. In reality, she was taking the chance to hug her shoulders. Shi Qingyi had a candy stick in her mouth as she scrolled through her phone, not calling out this little scheme, and instead discussed with the System whether it could sabotage the school’s surveillance.

The System flipped through its little notebook. “Theoretically possible, but in practice, for the sake of world stability, it’s best if I don’t intervene.”

Shi Qingyi’s eyes darkened, and she fell silent for a moment before threatening, “If they find out, she’ll be completely ruined.”

Even though Jiang Zhiyi put on an utterly innocent act—behaving like a model student in the classroom throughout the exam—Shi Qingyi still knew she couldn’t be unconnected to the incident.

The System fell silent too, then couldn’t help asking, “Does she look scared to you?”

Shi Qingyi lifted her gaze. They were standing at the very back, so no one was around. In the gap while she talked to the System, the other girl had already wrapped around her shoulders like a vine, starting to fiddle with her hair.

Seeing her suddenly turn back, Jiang Zhiyi leaned close to her ear and asked softly with concern, “What’s wrong?”

Though it was because of the assembly that she feared being singled out, the girl’s breath sprinkling on her ear still made Shi Qingyi feel a little uncomfortable.

The pitiful one looked completely at ease, utterly unconcerned by Song Zhiming’s drama, fearless.

Shi Qingyi: “…”

The System snarked, “See? You’re worrying over nothing.”

The incident ended with Song Zhiming staring until his eyes turned red, but he found nothing wrong. He had gone in himself, closed the door behind him, and no one passed by outside the whole time he was looking for something—no one came to deliberately lock him in.

What should have been a fifteen-minute assembly dragged on for nearly an hour because of him. The students’ legs ached from standing, and after half an hour, snow began to fall heavily. Cold and hungry, they grew quite dissatisfied with Song Zhiming.

His so-called good reputation from before collapsed astonishingly fast. Parents waiting outside to pick up their kids grew anxious too, constantly calling the school to inquire. Finally, the principal’s face darkened as he announced dismissal.

As they left amid the crowded flow of people, Shi Qingyi held Jiang Zhiyi’s hand to avoid getting separated. Through the crowd, she could vaguely hear scolding and crying, but it was too noisy from everyone heading home to make out if it was Song Zhiming.

No one stepped forward to console him.

Jiang Zhiyi squeezed her fingers. “Qingyi, let’s hurry home.”

The two of them were quite similar in that regard. No one came to pick up Jiang Zhiyi for the break, and Shi Qingyi’s father was so busy his feet barely touched the ground. He knew about the break but only asked if she wanted a driver sent. As for her mother—

Her mother usually stayed silent unless it was something major.

The area outside the school was jammed tight. Shi Qingyi led Jiang Zhiyi by the hand all the way back. The snow fell heavily, sinking deep with each step. Jiang Zhiyi followed in the footprints she made. When Shi Qingyi suddenly stopped, she bumped straight into her back.

Shi Qingyi burst out laughing with a “pfft.” Jiang Zhiyi rubbed her reddened nose, calling her name in a very aggrieved tone, as if she’d suffered some great injustice.

“Qingyi…”

Shi Qingyi tugged at the rabbit on her gold scarf, wrapping it tighter around her, teased her a bit, then continued pulling the pitiful one along.

On a distant street, a tall, slender boy watched them laughing happily together and suddenly found it stinging to the eyes.

Zhi Qing’s future was uncertain—who knew if he’d go abroad or get stuck here, his dreams shattered? Why did some malicious people get everything?

He frowned, a cold glint flickering in his eyes.

When Shi Qingyi got home, she collapsed into bed and slept. Over the past two days of exams, Jiang Zhiyi had crammed knowledge points into her non-stop, finally patching up some of her weak spots like Nuwa mending the sky. She was too exhausted even to check out Song Zhiming’s misfortune.

She slept until evening. Jiang Zhiyi had splurged on a fish—her pocket money was limited, and she refused Shi Qingyi’s, so meat wasn’t bought often.

Sometimes she frowned bitterly, feeling like she’d shortchanged Shi Qingyi.

Her possessiveness grew stronger, to the point where even Shi Qingyi eating out made her a little unhappy. She couldn’t suppress the desire to occupy all of her—

The aroma of crucian carp soup wafted through the air. Jiang Zhiyi used clean chopsticks to pick out the bones for Shi Qingyi. Shi Qingyi clumsily peeled shrimp beside her. After barely two, Jiang Zhiyi looked up.

“It’ll get your hands dirty. Don’t bother—just eat the fish, okay?”

She pushed the deboned fish meat over. Shi Qingyi ignored the dirt and fed a shrimp to her mouth. When Jiang Zhiyi wouldn’t open up, she mimicked her pitiful act. “What, are you starting to dislike me now?”

Jiang Zhiyi: “…”

Her ear tips turned as red as cooked shrimp. Shi Qingyi never acted cute or coquettish, so when she did it occasionally, it was devastatingly effective, disarming her instantly.

They finished dinner in this lovey-dovey manner close to eleven. Shi Qingyi had drunk a big bowl of crucian carp soup that night. Halfway through watching TV on the sofa, she tossed the remote.

“This is boring. Let’s go to the movies tomorrow.”

Jiang Zhiyi could never say no to her. She indulged Shi Qingyi to a sigh-worthy degree—even if she’d studied until she had a fever the day before, if Shi Qingyi wanted to go see the snow, she could still muster the strength to accompany her.

This boundless indulgence occasionally left the System at a loss for words.

Wild beasts always offered enough bait and temptation before luring prey in.

High school seniors got their break just two days before the new year. The next day was already the twenty-ninth. Shi Qingyi got a call early in the morning—her mother’s voice, very gentle, telling her to go downstairs and see. Her New Year’s gift had arrived.

It was an orange Bentley, beautifully designed. Perhaps because it was the new year, a string of mini red lanterns hung from the front when it was delivered.

Her mother asked warmly over the phone if she liked it.

“I do.” She thought for a moment before answering from the heart—after all, she’d only recently asked for it.

“Is your dad coming back to spend the new year with you this year? Last year he went on a business trip to Italy and didn’t make it. You’re about to take the gaokao this year—he has to come back, right…”

Shi Qingyi lowered her eyes, fiddling with the little string of lanterns. “Not sure.”

He really was swamped—even she didn’t know if he’d have time tomorrow. Shi Qingyi breathed on the car window. It didn’t matter, though. She wasn’t alone anymore.

She had Jiang Zhiyi.

“Little Yi, if he doesn’t come back this year, would you be willing to spend the new year with Mom?”

The voice on the other end was tentative. Shi Qingyi was silent for a while, then shook her head and hung up. Only then did she notice Jiang Zhiyi standing behind her with an umbrella.

“Let’s take this car out to the movies tonight.” They’d trudged through a shoe-full of water coming back yesterday. Today, they were going out warm and cozy.

She had no desire to slog through the snow again.

Jiang Zhiyi widened her eyes in surprise, her gaze darting between the car and her. “You’re driving?”

“Of course me.” Shi Qingyi answered matter-of-factly. At this hour, even drivers headed home for the new year.

In the end, Great Driver Shi didn’t hit the road. Jiang Zhiyi was timid and tugged at her sleeve, pleading softly in a way that melted hearts. They ended up calling a substitute driver and picked a New Year’s comedy. On the way, messages started popping up in the class group.

The homeroom teacher first wished everyone a happy new year, then said the scores were out but held back so everyone could enjoy the holiday. They’d be released after the new year.

The group wailed—begging to push it to after the first or second, or even until school started. The teacher sent a smiling emoji for them to interpret.

Shi Qingyi turned to ask Jiang Zhiyi how she thought she’d done. Jiang Zhiyi had her phone but wouldn’t check her own, insisting on squeezing together to look at Shi Qingyi’s. At the question, her fingers trembled, and she wrinkled her nose. “Didn’t perform well…”

When she realized it wasn’t a head pat but puzzled eyes, she quickly added, “But probably still top three in class, top twenty in grade…”

Shi Qingyi relaxed then, putting on her earphones to listen to music. Jiang Zhiyi tugged at the cord. “I forgot mine…”

Someone so meticulous forgetting? Clearly deliberate. Shi Qingyi helplessly shared one earbud. Their two heads leaned together to pick songs.

As the new year approached, everywhere buzzed with energy. Street shops hung lanterns. Maybe because it was the last day before, everyone rushed home, causing extra serious traffic jams. By the time they reached the cinema, the movie had started thirty minutes ago.

The substitute driver was a cheerful young woman who wished them a happy new year before hopping on an electric scooter. Her father was there to pick her up, handing her a scarf and fussily wrapping it around her neck.

Jiang Zhiyi watched from the car window, a bit dazed. Her own father had been in prison for over a decade. Memories of visiting him as a child were already fuzzy, veiled like thin gauze, obscuring the original grim pain.

Shi Qingyi lightly knocked her forehead.

“I booked tickets for the next showing. Over an hour until this one ends. Want to go stroll around?”

Jiang Zhiyi clutched her forehead and shrank back. “Nah, it’s freezing out. Let’s stay in the car.”

“So lazy? I was gonna pick out a gift for you.” Shi Qingyi pretended to sigh regretfully. The girl opposite lit up instantly, her earlier gloom vanishing.

“Too late to regret now. I’m not going out.” The golden-haired girl leaned back shamelessly.

The pitiful one’s cheeks puffed a few times, but she could only lower her head meekly, making people want to laugh.

“Alright, then I’ll give you a different gift—close your eyes.”

Jiang Zhiyi obediently closed her eyes. For a moment, she even anticipated it: maybe Shi Qingyi was tricking her, having bought the gift already and hidden it somewhere in the car to tease her. Where could it be? The trunk? Behind the seat? Or—

She didn’t get to think further. Something warm and soft pressed against her, lightly touching her lips before pulling away.

The girl’s lemon scent drew near. In that instant, she could almost hear her own heart pounding like drums. Her lashes trembled nonstop. Finally, disbelieving, she opened her eyes. The girl hadn’t fully retreated, cradling her face at point-blank range.

Suddenly, fireworks burst from the distant riverbank. Brilliant blooms exploded in the sky, scattering and lighting the pitch-black night like daylight. Jiang Zhiyi’s ears rang. The world blurred between the clamor and the silence broken only by her heartbeat.

The girl was so close, her golden short hair draping her shoulders, shimmering in the fireworks’ glow. Her usually unapproachable brows and eyes held a smile, clear gaze fixed on her. In her near-stunned stare, she spoke softly.

The noise outside was too loud—she feared she wouldn’t hear—so the girl whispered right by her ear.

She said, “Zhiyi, happy new year—”

Jiang Zhiyi felt a massive firework explode in her heart, dazzling her until her eyes burned and welled up. Something blurred her vision. Wordless emotion surged through her limbs. She reached out to hold that person, “happy new year” already on her tongue.

But in the next instant, she was shoved away hard.

Jiang Zhiyi later dreamed of that moment over and over. At the street corner, a white sedan came barreling madly toward them. In the split second between life and death, Shi Qingyi pushed her.

She stumbled from the push, then shards flew. The windshield shattered, glass piercing her flesh. Under the steel’s crush, her body was fragile beyond imagination.

Fragments stabbed her face, arms, abdomen, and thighs. She struggled to lift her head to grab Shi Qingyi, but clutched nothing. Choking gasoline and blood filled her chest…

The last thing she saw was the white car reversing before viciously ramming again. Through the glass, only a twisted face—eyes bloodshot, crazily turning the wheel, mouth roaring something.

She couldn’t hear a thing. She could only hear the sound of fireworks exploding, drowning out everything else.

That was—

Song Zhiming.

Song Zhiming, who had nothing.