6. Are you stupid?
Yao Ling came out of the Tsim Sha Tsui bus station and recalled that she would occasionally see Deng Shilang at the bus stop in front of the school gate after school. At that time, she already knew that he was quite famous in school, had good grades, liked to play ball, and was said to have a very shallow dimple on his left cheek when he smiled.
She had never seen him before, but Xiaoyu told her. She only knew that he smelled good.
She was a boring person. Back in school, attractive girls from well-off families loved wearing Pandora bracelets and Reebok Pump Fury shoes, popular items in Hong Kong stores and also popular in mainland China. The shoes resembled high heels, but were actually sneakers, creating a playful yet elegant look that made those girls look so pretty. But she was the most plain-looking, wearing nothing but a pair of white sneakers. Her hair was so long it barely reached her shoulders, so long it couldn't even be tied into a high ponytail. She wasn't too bothered to follow trends.
Among friends, there's always one friend who's incredibly popular, and Xiaoyu is that popular and well-informed one. After school, as they wandered to the bus station with their backpacks, Xiaoyu would quietly tug at Yao Ling's bag when she saw Deng Shilang, point with her eyes, and say, "That's Deng Shilang from Class E! Let's not go near him, or the guys in Class E will think we're trying to pick him up."
Yao Ling felt an urge to move closer, as if she were addicted to the scent. But she refrained from doing so. Instead, she stood at the corner of the bus stop, chatting with Xiao Yu and occasionally glancing at the other end. Deng Shilang, from Class E, was looking down at his phone. When friends came over, he would nod casually.
"Why are you distracted? What are you looking at?" Xiao Yu waved his hand.
Yao Ling focused her eyes on Xiao Yu and said, "Nothing."
Xiao Yu didn't believe it. By chance, she turned around and saw Deng Shilang chatting and laughing with his friends. She realized, "He really is very handsome."
"fine."
"Wow, are you that picky? He has a dimple on his left cheek when he smiles, so charming."
"I like the smell of him." Yao Ling said frankly.
Xiao Yu's face flushed with shame, "What do you mean..."
“Literally.”
Xiao Yu fanned her face to remove the remaining warmth, "You're being lascivious."
They weren't going the same route, so they wouldn't be on the same bus. After Deng Shilang boarded the bus, Yao Ling stopped looking. He might remember her name but not her. She suspected he'd remember her, since their names often appeared together on the bulletin board's report cards.
According to rumors, and this rumor was also Xiao Yu's hearsay, Class A and Class E are excellent classes.
Class E is packed with influential figures: rich, famous, talented, powerful, and good-looking. Despite its small size, it has everything it needs. In other words, Class E is truly an elite class. If classmates meet someone in clubs or other settings, and they learn they're from Class E, they're stunned and intimidated by their presence.
Class A's academic performance was comparable to Class E's, but the atmosphere lacked the high-energy vibe. Class A was perceived by its peers as dull, its members mostly listless and weak. However, there were a few remarkable individuals who consistently topped or ranked first or second in individual subjects, never falling out of the top three. No one knew how they managed to learn.
Yao Ling was one of them. Her name would always appear in the top two on the English report cards, and she would be on the list for every exam, big or small. Those classmates who could identify her with her name said she was a very cold girl. They would stare at each other in the hallway, and if someone smiled, she wouldn't smile back.
Xiao Yu thought that these classmates might have confused "cold" with "low-key", but Yao Ling thought they were right and the rumors made sense.
At the beginning, there was another English class representative in Class E. Later, that student didn't want to do it anymore, so the English teacher asked Deng Shilang to take over without saying a word. He asked him to get acquainted with Rosalie in Class A and to explain something to him.
Yao Ling remembered that she was sitting by the window, doing her homework with her head down, when suddenly someone knocked on the window. She stopped writing and looked at him. He was standing against the light, and his hand wearing Tissot opened the window nimbly, letting in a familiar fragrance.
"Help me find someone." Deng Shilang patted the dust off his hands.
It was the first time Yao Ling looked at him so closely and asked, "Who are you looking for?"
"Her name is Rosalie."
Yao Ling didn't expect him to take the initiative to find her, "It's me."
Deng Shilang saw her name on her homework book and read out, "Yao Ling is also you."
"What's wrong?" Her guess was correct, and she admitted that the list was useful.
"Then do you know who I am?" he asked.
Yao Ling looked at him directly, "I don't know."
"Just call me Hayden."
"I want your Chinese name." She didn't know if he would refuse.
He didn't seem to mind that she didn't recognize him, "Deng Shilang."
Yao Ling said "oh" and heard him laugh. She looked up at him and saw a shallow dimple on his left cheek. He said to her again, "Come to my office after school. I have something to do."
All afternoon, Yao Ling bit her pen unconsciously, occasionally recalling his words about looking for her by the window, her mind wandering to the other side. Finally, the sky was filled with pink clouds, the setting sun was blazing, and the bell rang, signaling the end of school. Yao Ling arrived at the office and saw him talking with the English teacher. She walked over, pulled up a chair, and sat down to listen to their conversation.
"The order of the written test has been messed up. Please divide the test papers between the two classes and put them on my desk. My daughter just got out of school and I have to pick her up. You two can just finish and leave." After giving the instructions, the English teacher packed up his bag and left.
Deng Shilang was a laid-back guy, but he was adept at everything he did, unlike the others in Class E. His movements as he flipped through the papers were beautiful, his arms defined by the lines and veins. When he got serious, he became silent, and she, too, remained silent, sitting beside him, sorting through the papers.
The teachers in the office had either gone home or gone to the cafeteria to eat, leaving them alone. The test paper had nails on it, and Yao Ling had to open it. She accidentally pricked her finger with a nail, gasping in pain as blood gushed from her fingertip and dripped onto the table.
Deng Shilang heard the sound and saw the blood. He pulled out a tissue from the table and wiped her fingers with it. "Are you stupid? You were so careless. That's why you got second place in the exam this time."
She didn't answer. Seeing the bleeding wouldn't stop, he took her hand and led it to the office sink to rinse. The mirror reflected the two of them. He was tall, and by comparison, she was still just below his shoulders. They pressed together, their arms rubbing against each other. He and her hand went into the water together, blood trickling into the pool. She stared at the Tissot, a quartz watch with a pure black dial and Roman numerals.
After rinsing, he turned off the faucet and took out a tissue to wipe her hand. His palm was very broad, and there was a warmth holding her hand. She cooperated and stretched out her injured fingers, feeling his gentle wiping, so gentle that her other hand hung down and pinched the corner of her clothes.
"Does it hurt?" Deng Shilang stared at her and asked.
She was indeed stupid, "It hurts."
He lowered his head and blew on her fingers, alternating hot and cold air, his lips almost touching her fingertips. She quickly shrank back, withdrew her hand, and stepped back a few steps. "It's okay."
Deng Shilang let her go politely, "Remember to use a bandaid." He went back to sort out the papers, telling her to leave them alone and sit down to rest. After finishing the papers, he looked at his watch and said, "Done."
Class A was on the far right of the fifth-floor corridor. This corridor served classes A through D, with D being on the far left. Class E was actually in the building across the street, on the same floor, with classes E through I. There was a connecting corridor between the two buildings, allowing teachers and students to move freely between them. The office was on the Class A side, so Deng Shilang left his office and headed towards the corridor.
Even from a distance, Yao Ling could see his back as he headed for Class E. Outside, several prominent figures, widely known among the younger students, stood, taking group and individual photos under the pink haze after school. They were all strikingly good-looking, and as they emerged, the younger students from Class A, who were on the lower floor, would also come out and gaze up at the other side.
Deng Shilang saw them, high-fived the boys, smiled at the girls, and then walked straight into the classroom. When he came out again, he had his schoolbag slung over one shoulder, tilted his head back to drink a can of soda, put it in the trash can, and went down the stairs next to Class E.
Yao Ling didn't return to class, but went to the bathroom. She leaned against the single-panel door, staring at the wound on her hand. Then she brought it to her lips. It was wet, mingled with the scent of Giovanni. She rubbed her lips, then licked them gently. There was no trace of blood; he had washed it clean.
Yao Ling knew that some people, once close, would trigger a pheromone effect. She lifted her dress and unhooked her bra. Those wounded hands caressed her breasts. She took a deep breath and gently pinched her nipples. They hardened, her hands still wet. She caressed those soft breasts with his scent. She imagined it was him touching them. She didn't want to be one of the girls in her grade who flocked to him, but she couldn't help but feel wet, eager to be closer.
After school, Yao Ling walked to the station alone and saw Deng Shilang. Her breasts were still swollen.
When he saw her, he still walked over and asked, "Where are you going?"
"Go home." She answered without blushing or beating her heart.
The car arrived and Deng Shilang nodded, "Goodbye, be safe."
Cars drove off, one after another, from South City to Hong Kong. The dream faded, and the neon lights shone brightly. Yao Ling was walking on the streets of Tsim Sha Tsui when her phone rang. She swiped the screen to see a message.
【DChayden】：Be safe.
Yao Ling read it, didn't reply, and locked her screen. He was just that kind of person, caring towards every girl, always and always. Even if she was his ex, he would still say something to her in a graceful manner after sending her home. Unfortunately, the past was the past, and she was no longer the one who would still indulge in his fantasies.
Her phone rang again. Pierre, in Milan, had sent her a DM. The French, no matter the language, speak of lust with a certain flavor, sometimes obscure, sometimes unrestrained. Now was the time for such unrestrained expression. The longing that had been pent up for days burst forth, and Pierre openly declared his desire to make her unable to leave his bed. She stared at the message, a mixture of English and Italian, chuckling softly as she stood on the street, but still didn't reply.
Continue read on readnovelmtl.com
