Chapter 40: ◎Lucky Star◎ Part 1

As the saying goes, if something crops up out of nowhere, there must be something fishy about it.

But when she met Yan Mian’s pure and limpid gaze, Zhu Lexing could only concede defeat and slink away dejectedly.

A few days later, Yan Mian officially set off on her journey to S City.

Liu Su had originally booked a plane ticket for her, but Yan Mian turned it down, insisting that the high-speed rail would suffice. Zhu Lexing had been about to persuade her that flying would be easier, only to realize belatedly that Yan Mian had never flown before and was simply rejecting it on instinct.

She hid it well, though. Liu Su didn’t pick up on her reluctance and didn’t press the issue, simply agreeing.

Yan Mian departed on Monday, sparing Zhu Lexing the awkwardness of a face-to-face goodbye. She breathed a quiet sigh of relief.

Once she got to school and settled into her seat, Zhu Lexing noticed Song Yingying glancing back over her shoulder on reflex. It took her a moment to catch herself before she went back to her exercises.

Zhu Lexing found Song Yingying’s behavior a little odd.

Yet her own thoughts drifted off even more inexplicably, wondering what Yan Mian might be doing at that very moment.

It wasn’t until ten o’clock that Yan Mian finally messaged her: “Boarded the train.”

Zhu Lexing stared at the words, her fingers tapping away furiously. Even knowing that Liu Su had arranged for people to accompany Yan Mian, she couldn’t help replying: “Don’t let anyone scam you.”

“There will be teachers to pick me up at the high-speed rail station. No need to worry about me.”

Zhu Lexing resisted the urge to fire back “Who’s worried about you?” and sent just a single period instead, ending the exchange without a word.

Zhu Lexing figured only Song Yingying had gotten the wrong idea.

That was until the afternoon, when she ran into Qiao Qiao—who immediately asked about Yan Mian. Zhu Lexing could only stare. “…”

After Zhu Lexing set her straight, Qiao Qiao didn’t bat an eye. “Well, isn’t it because you two have been glued at the hip lately?”

Now that she mentioned it, Zhu Lexing realized they really had been inseparable these past few days.

They arrived at school at the same time every morning and filed into the classroom one right after the other. Outside of lessons, you could always find one of them wherever the other happened to be.

Qiao Qiao said gravely, “When you meet an Omega who’s willing to let you cling to her…”

Zhu Lexing turned on her heel and walked away.

That night, for the very first time, Yan Mian called Zhu Lexing with a voice chat.

When Yan Mian’s name popped up on her screen, Zhu Lexing froze mid-bite of her candy, half-convinced she was seeing things. After a long hesitation, she finally hit accept.

“…Can you hear me?”

A burst of faint static crackled through, followed by the girl’s voice.

Zhu Lexing snapped upright from her listless sprawl over her book. She instinctively brightened her desk lamp, swallowed her candy, and replied, “Yeah, I can hear you. But it’s kinda quiet.”

Yan Mian seemed to pull her mic closer. “How about now?”

She never spoke to Zhu Lexing from quite this distance in person. The girl’s warm, velvety voice cut straight through the phone and into her ear, landing like a gentle thud against her heart. Zhu Lexing paused for several seconds before saying, “You don’t have to get quite that close.”

Yan Mian fiddled with it quietly again, but now it sounded too distant to Zhu Lexing. Back and forth they went until it settled right back at that intimate second distance.

Yan Mian declared calmly, “This should be good.”

Without thinking, Zhu Lexing unwrapped another candy. She heard Yan Mian ask, “Has Auntie Liu gotten back yet?”

“Nope.” Zhu Lexing blurted out, “Do you need to talk to her?”

“No.” Yan Mian’s voice hitched for a moment. “I wanted to talk to you.”

Zhu Lexing nearly choked on her candy.

She mashed the mute button like mad just before the coughing fit hit, saving herself from making a fool of herself in front of Yan Mian. Her face burned bright red even as Yan Mian’s voice continued softly in her earbuds. “The teacher gave me a tour of the Winter Camp today. The setup’s nice—four-person dorms, three Betas and one Omega. They’re all excellent students.”

Beyond their grades, though, Yan Mian didn’t seem to have much else to say about them.

Zhu Lexing twisted open her water bottle and chugged a few gulps, forcing down that inexplicable wave of heat. Only then did she cough lightly and respond.

Yan Mian asked, “Is your voice okay?”

Zhu Lexing hadn’t realized she was quite so perceptive. “…It’s nothing. Just choked for a second. Keep going.”

Beyond the bare minimum of chit-chat, Yan Mian gave a quick rundown of the Teaching Building and the instructors she’d met. She had a little more to say about the teachers and classes, but her tone held no real spark of enthusiasm.

She might have been trying her best to sound excited, but it clearly wasn’t doing much for her.

Zhu Lexing’s emotions were the ones getting all stirred up.

That was, until she heard about Yan Mian’s schedule—sixteen hours of classes a day, every day. Only then did she cut in for the first time. “That much?”

Silence fell over the earbuds, so complete she could almost hear each other’s breathing.

In truth, this was the real point Yan Mian had wanted to get across.

Reality always fell short of the imagination in stark ways. There was only one proper day off per month, and leave requests were brutally strict—approved only for serious health issues.

Before dialing, Yan Mian had agonized over how to break the news to Zhu Lexing.

The other girl had brought it up herself, though, leaving her no choice but to say, “Yes. So I… probably won’t be able to make it back to Rong City this weekend.”

Zhu Lexing hadn’t expected her to circle back to it.

Truth be told, she already had Plan B locked and loaded. As the old proverb went, if the mountain won’t come to Muhammad, then Muhammad goes to the mountain.

Yan Mian might be swamped, but Zhu Lexing could hop on a train Friday night. She’d squeeze in some quality time—cure the illness, get face time with the Female Protagonist, rack up some goodwill points—and after tying up all the loose ends, escort Yan Mian safely back to her dorm.

It was a flawless scheme. Zhu Lexing savored it, already picturing the surprise on Yan Mian’s face.

So of course, she wasn’t about to spill the beans just yet. “No big deal. Just focus on your studies.”

As the words left her mouth, though, Zhu Lexing remembered that Yan Mian had already been plenty diligent back in Rong City.

She added, “But don’t push yourself too hard either. Still, take care of your body… Anyway, health comes first. Where was I? Your desk mate with the white hair? Why are you noticing someone else’s white hair anyway?”

Yan Mian: “…”

Hearing Zhu Lexing steer the conversation right back on track in just a few sentences—and even take an obvious jab at it along the way—left Yan Mian somewhat speechless.

“I wasn’t paying attention to her,” Yan Mian said helplessly. “She brought it up herself.”

Zhu Lexing felt her own tone sounded inexplicably off, like the twinge of “jealousy” you get when a friend starts hanging out with someone new.

She wanted Yan Mian to socialize a little, but not too much. Caught in this swirling vortex of contradiction, it took her a good while to finally say, “She must be pretty outgoing to talk that much. Get to know her—you might end up friends.”

Yan Mian nodded. “Okay.”

Zhu Lexing was about to say more when a girl’s voice came through from Yan Mian’s end. “Yan Mian? Study hall’s starting soon. Aren’t you heading to the cafeteria?”

Zhu Lexing glanced at the time. It was nearly seven. “You haven’t eaten yet?”

Yan Mian first brushed off the girl who’d called out to her, then pulled out her earbuds and told Zhu Lexing, “I’m going now.”

After a moment’s hesitation, Yan Mian asked, “Zhu Lexing… can I call you again later?”

Zhu Lexing: “…………”

Zhu Lexing slowly pinched the bridge of her nose, forcing her voice to stay even so she wouldn’t sound too weird. “Mm. If you want to.”

The call ended there, but Zhu Lexing sat stunned for a long time, lost in the echo of Yan Mian’s final question.

She asked the System: 【What do you think she meant by that?】

The System replied: 【Yan Mian wants to chat with you. That means she sees you as a friend and is open to talking.】

Zhu Lexing thought it was a perfectly standard—and perfectly satisfying—answer.

She switched back to her chat with Yan Mian and stared at the call timer showing twenty minutes. Slowly, she took a screenshot. Suddenly, she got it—why so many people loved posting their chat logs.

It was just capturing life! What was wrong with sharing?

She quietly posted the screenshot to her Moments—visible only to herself—then sat there pondering for a bit longer before resuming her homework.

She spent the evening in a daze. When Zhu Lexing finally headed downstairs again, the sight of the empty dining table left her momentarily blank. Still standing on the stairs, she asked one of the servants, “Where’s Yan Mian?”

The maid who met her gaze paused. “Didn’t Miss Yan… go to class?”

Zhu Lexing: “…”

Only then did it hit her—Yan Mian had really left.

Wait, it was just a one-month program, right? She’d be back next month. What was the big deal—

Zhu Lexing’s expression turned deadly serious in an instant. But the maid hadn’t endured any of “Zhu Lexing’s” torments before. She just stood there looking up at her, assuming Zhu Lexing had some words of wisdom to impart, and even prompted, “Miss Zhu, you’ll be late if you don’t eat soon.”

Seeing it hadn’t spooked her, Zhu Lexing said flatly, “I didn’t say any of that.”

The maid broke into a knowing grin, like she’d seen it coming.

Zhu Lexing asked, “Did I say anything just now?”

The maid replied, “I didn’t hear a thing.”

Zhu Lexing sighed from the bottom of her heart—this woman was destined for great things.

She’d assumed Yan Mian’s talk of “calling” meant it would happen every day.

But Tuesday came and went with no word. Back home, Zhu Lexing did her homework while constantly glancing at her phone in a daze, but the screen stayed dark this time—no glow like Monday night. In the end, she took the initiative and messaged Yan Mian: Eaten yet?

The text just sat there, unanswered on the screen.

It wasn’t until nearly ten that Yan Mian finally replied: Yeah, just got out of class.

Zhu Lexing thought, is this any place for a human being? She’d wanted to chat more, but with the hour, she let it go. Early rest, she typed, then headed off to wash up.

In the days that followed, their chats were few and far between. Yan Mian’s classes meant no phones, and their schedules never lined up anyway. Outside of mealtimes, they hardly overlapped at all.

Zhu Lexing didn’t want to admit it.

But she had to: Yan Mian’s short absence had landed a solid punch on someone like her, who’d never been apart from Yan Mian before.

She suddenly realized how dull her routine really was.

Sure, she was desk mates with Song Yingying now—but the girl was laser-focused on studying. Zhu Lexing couldn’t just barge in and bother her.

So in class, Zhu Lexing’s go-tos were listening to lectures, spacing out, and stealing glances at Yan Mian.

Chop away the most important one, and she was left ping-ponging between spacing out and half-listening. When it got really unbearable, she’d stare at her calendar or reread their chat history, counting down to Friday.

In one of the small group chats, the messages had quietly scrolled a full screen.

-Feeling like Lexing’s been in a real funk lately

-Yan Mian heading to S City hitting her this hard?

-Told you she’s got it bad for Yan Mian. It’s just a one-month thing—31 days, tops. That big a deal?

-Your crush ghosts you for three days and tell me you’re fine

-? Qiao Qiao got a crush? Spill—who???

-??

-??? @You Stomp and You’re Numb Too