First encounter
The next morning, Xu Ying made a point of arriving at school twenty minutes early.
The classroom of Class 7 was still empty. Sunlight streamed through the glass window onto the desks in the third row—the homeroom teacher had already arranged for the two of them to be deskmates yesterday, and now two sets of desks and chairs were placed side by side there, with a crooked "38th parallel" drawn in chalk on the tabletop, next to which was written "Death to those who cross the line".
Xu Ying took out a wet wipe and silently wiped away the words.
She was bending down to wipe her side of the desk when she suddenly noticed a corner of a blue book cover peeking out of Zong Heng's drawer. Driven by curiosity, she gently pulled the book out—
Hai Zi's Poetry Collection.
The pages were already curled up, and on the title page, written in fountain pen, were the words "To Aheng," the handwriting so delicate it resembled a girl's. Just as Xu Ying was about to close the book, a photograph suddenly slipped out from between the pages.
The photo shows Zong Heng, around ten years old, wearing his elementary school uniform and standing on the podium, smiling brightly. It's completely unrecognizable as the gloomy boy he is today.
Footsteps suddenly came from the back door of the classroom.
Xu Ying hurriedly stuffed the photos back, but the poetry collection fell to the ground with a "thud." She looked up and saw Zong Heng standing frozen in the doorway, the soy milk bag in his hand crashing to the ground with a "thud," splashing milky white liquid all over the floor.
His gaze fell on the poetry collection in her hands, and his face instantly turned deathly pale.
Xu Ying handed the book over: "You dropped your book."
Zong Heng took it, casually stuffed it into his backpack, and said in a nonchalant tone, "Don't touch my things."
Xu Ying hummed in agreement, picked up her schoolbag, and prepared to leave.
"Wait a minute," Zong Heng suddenly called out to her.
She turned around.
He stared at her for two seconds, then suddenly asked, "You like poetry?"
Xu Ying didn't expect him to ask this. She hesitated for a moment, then nodded: "I watch it occasionally."
Zong Heng twitched the corner of his mouth, said nothing, and turned to leave.
Xu Ying frowned slightly as she watched his retreating figure.
—This person isn't so bad after all.
Sunlight streamed obliquely through the glass windows during self-study, falling on Xu Ying's textbook. The classroom was quiet, with only the scratching of pens on paper and the occasional murmur of suppressed laughter.
Xu Ying was solving a math problem, and she had only gone halfway through figuring out her thoughts when she suddenly felt something lightly touch her arm.
She turned her head and saw that Zong Heng had woken up at some point, twirling a black pen in his hand, the cap of which was poking her arm intermittently.
Xu Ying frowned, moved to the side, and continued writing her questions.
Zong Heng stared at her profile for two seconds, then suddenly reached out and pulled her textbook toward himself.
"What are you doing?" Xu Ying asked in a low voice.
Zong Heng didn't answer, but started drawing in the blank space of her textbook. He used a lot of force with his pen, almost tearing the paper, and the black lines stretched out crookedly, eventually turning into an ugly turtle.
Xu Ying stared at the turtle, remained silent for two seconds, and then reached out to pull the book back.
Zong Heng pressed down on his textbook, raised an eyebrow at her, and asked, "What, you don't like it?"
His voice was low and laced with a wicked laugh, as if he was certain she would be angry.
Xu Ying didn't say anything, but with a forceful pull, the textbook was torn in half with a "rip".
Zong Heng paused for a moment, then laughed out loud: "That's pretty strong."
Xu Ying looked at the turtle in the book, then at the torn corner, and suddenly raised her hand and tore the whole page off with a "whoosh".
Zong Heng's smile froze on his face.
She moved swiftly and decisively, crumpling the torn paper into a ball, tossing it with her hand, and the paper ball landed precisely in the trash can in the corner of the classroom.
The whole class fell silent.
A few students in the front row who were secretly looking back widened their eyes, and one of them whispered, "Holy crap, she dares to tear up Zong Heng's drawing?"
Zong Heng stared at Xu Ying, his eyes slightly dangerous: "What do you mean?"
Xu Ying took a blank sheet of paper out of her bag, laid it on the table, and began copying the torn-out contents without looking up: "The literal meaning."
Zong Heng stared at her for a few seconds, then suddenly reached out and pressed down on her hand as she was writing.
His hands were large and warm, almost completely enveloping the back of her hand. Xu Ying's fingers trembled slightly, and the pen tip left a small blot of ink on the paper.
"Are you angry?" Zong Heng leaned closer, his voice low and tinged with amusement.
Xu Ying withdrew her hand, her tone calm: "No."
"Then why did you tear it?"
"An eyesore."
Zong Heng laughed: "Was my turtle drawing an eyesore?"
Xu Ying finally looked up and stared directly into his eyes: "You're a real eyesore."
The classroom fell eerily quiet instantly.
Several boys in the back row gasped. One of them whispered, "Oh no, this transfer student is going to be in trouble..."
Zong Heng stared at Xu Ying for a few seconds, then suddenly laughed. He leaned back, his school uniform collar slightly open, revealing his collarbone. Sunlight fell on him, outlining the sharp features of the young man.
"Well, new student." He said with a hint of amusement, "You've got a temper."
Xu Ying ignored him and continued copying notes.
Zong Heng stopped making a fuss and lazily twirled his pen, but his gaze remained fixed on her.
Her eyelashes were long, casting a small shadow under her eyes when they drooped. Her nose was straight and her lips were slightly pursed, giving her a look that was both soft and stubborn.
Zong Heng suddenly felt a little irritated.
He reached into the drawer of the table, pulled out a mint, unwrapped it, and popped it into his mouth. The cool taste exploded on his tongue, but it couldn't suppress the inexplicable restlessness in his heart.
After Xu Ying finished copying the notes, she tucked the paper into her textbook and caught a glimpse of Zong Heng staring blankly out the window. His profile was exceptionally clear in the sunlight, with a sharp jawline, a prominent Adam's apple, and a neck that extended all the way into the collar of his school uniform.
She looked away, took a workbook out of her bag, and continued working on the problems.
A few minutes later, a note was pushed onto her workbook.
Xu Ying looked up and saw that Zong Heng had already turned back to lie down and sleep, leaving only the back of his head visible to her.
She opened the note; it contained an even uglier pig's head, and next to it was written: "Draw again tomorrow."
Xu Ying: "..."
She crumpled the paper into a ball, raised her hand and threw it. The paper ball flew in an arc and hit Zong Heng precisely on the back of the head.
Zong Heng suddenly looked up, glaring at her: "You—"
Xu Ying said expressionlessly, "It was a slip of the hand."
Zong Heng stared at her for two seconds, then suddenly smiled. He picked up the crumpled paper, unfolded it, looked at it, added a few strokes, folded it into a paper airplane, and flew it towards her.
The paper airplane landed crookedly on Xu Ying's desk. She unfolded it and saw a line of text next to the pig's head: "If you're so capable, don't come to class tomorrow."
Xu Ying picked up a pen, wrote a line below, folded the paper airplane, and flew it back.
Zong Heng caught it, unfolded it, and read: [Childish.]
He chuckled, drew an even bigger pig's head below, and flew back.
The paper airplane flew back and forth between the two of them four or five times before being caught by the patrolling grade director.
"You two!" The principal was so angry his mustache stood on end. "Passing notes during self-study and folding paper airplanes?! Stand up!"
The whole class burst into laughter.
Xu Ying stood up, blushing, while Zong Heng seemed unconcerned. He stood there casually with one hand in his pocket, and even smiled at the headmaster: "Teacher, we're discussing math problems."
The director's eyes widened: "Discussing math problems with paper airplanes?!"
Zong Heng remained unfazed: "A new learning method."
The director was trembling with anger: "You two, come to my office after class!"
After class, Xu Ying and Zong Heng walked towards the office one after the other. There were few people in the corridor, and sunlight streamed through the windows, casting dappled shadows on the floor.
Zong Heng suddenly stopped and turned to look at her: "Hey."
Xu Ying looked up: "What?"
Zong Heng stared at her for two seconds, then suddenly reached out and took a small piece of paper from her hair—probably from when she was folding the paper airplane.
His fingertips gently brushed against her earlobe, and Xu Ying froze for a moment, her ears turning red instantly.
Zong Heng looked at her bright red ears and suddenly laughed: "So easily embarrassed?"
Xu Ying took a step back, her tone stiff: "No."
Zong Heng flicked away the scraps of paper and said lazily, "When we get to the office, don't say anything, I'll handle it."
Xu Ying was taken aback: "Why?"
Zong Heng put his hands in his pockets, turned around and walked forward, his voice drifting over: "Because I want to."
As Xu Ying watched his retreating figure, she suddenly felt her heart beating a little fast.
—This person doesn't seem to be the same as the rumors suggest.
On Tuesday morning, Xu Ying arrived ten minutes earlier than usual. The classroom was empty, except for the students on duty lazily sweeping the corridor with brooms.
She walked to her seat, and just as she was about to sit down, she suddenly stopped.
There was a puddle of water on the chair.
The water stains were fresh, shimmering slightly in the morning light, clearly indicating they had been poured on recently.
Xu Ying pursed her lips and glanced around. Several boys in the back row were secretly looking this way. When they realized she had noticed them, they immediately turned their heads away as if nothing had happened, but their shoulders were suspiciously shaking.
She didn't say anything, took out a tissue from her bag, slowly and meticulously wiped the chair clean, and then—
"Smack!"
Zong Heng's schoolbag was casually tossed on the ground by her.
The classroom fell silent for a second.
A collective gasp came from the back row.
When Zong Heng entered the classroom as the bell rang, this was the scene he saw—his schoolbag was lying pitifully on the floor, and Xu Ying was sitting upright, staring straight at the blackboard, as if everything was irrelevant to her.
He raised an eyebrow, walked over, picked up the backpack, dusted off non-existent dust, then bent down and whispered in her ear: "Did you do that on purpose?"
His warm breath brushed against her earlobe, and Xu Ying's eyelashes trembled, but she still didn't look at him: "I don't know what you're talking about."
Zong Heng chuckled, straightened up, and tossed his schoolbag onto the table: "Fine, you've got guts."
The whole class was secretly observing this silent confrontation, with someone muttering, "The new student is really too bold..."
During the afternoon math class, Xu Ying opened her textbook and found two large words written in black marker on the title page: "Idiot."
The handwriting was wild and unruly, almost leaping off the page.
She turned to look at Zong Heng.
The other person was resting their chin on one hand and twirling a pen in the other. When they saw her looking over, they deliberately raised an eyebrow at her, their eyes full of a wicked smile.
Xu Ying withdrew her gaze, picked up her pen, gestured a couple of times on the table, and then—
"Whoosh!"
She drew an even bigger "idiot" on Zong Heng's desk, pressing so hard she almost broke the pen tip.
Zong Heng was stunned.
The whole class was stunned.
The math teacher pushed up his glasses and looked over with a puzzled expression: "What happened in the back?"
Xu Ying immediately raised her hand and said in a clear voice, "Teacher, Zong Heng said he has a question he can't answer and wants me to teach him."
Zong Heng: "...?"
The teacher nodded with satisfaction: "Very good, classmates should help each other. Zongheng, you should learn more from Xu Ying."
Zong Heng narrowed his eyes, stared at Xu Ying for two seconds, and suddenly smiled: "Okay, I will definitely study hard."
He deliberately emphasized the last four words, which sent a chill down Xu Ying's spine.
The next morning during self-study, Xu Ying had just sat down when she found a crumpled piece of paper tucked into her textbook.
When you unfold it, you see a picture of an ugly pig's head, with the words "Doesn't it look like you?" written next to it.
She crumpled the note into a ball with a blank expression and looked up at Zong Heng.
The other person was pretending to read a book, but the smile on their lips just wouldn't go away.
Xu Ying took a deep breath, picked up a pen, and quickly wrote a few words on the back of the note, then—
"Whoosh!"
The crumpled paper traced a perfect parabola and landed precisely on Zong Heng's forehead.
"Pfft!" Several suppressed laughs rang out from the surrounding area.
Zong Heng unfolded the note with a dark expression. It read: "Your drawing skills are too poor. I suggest you repeat kindergarten art."
He was so angry he wanted to retaliate when the homeroom teacher suddenly walked in through the front door.
"Everyone, hand over your phones!"
Zong Heng cursed under his breath, then had no choice but to stuff the note into his pocket and glare fiercely at Xu Ying.
Xu Ying pretended not to see it, looking down at her book, but the corners of her mouth secretly curled up.
During the break between classes, Xu Ying stayed in the classroom because she was on duty.
While erasing the blackboard, she overheard a conversation between several boys near the back door:
"I bet fifty bucks the new student won't last a week!"
"Come on, they've been arguing with Heng Ge for five days now, I think things are going to get interesting."
"Want to make a bet? I bet she'll cry next week!"
Xu Ying paused for a moment, and chalk dust fell in a flurry.
She silently finished erasing the blackboard, and as she walked back to her seat, she deliberately stopped next to the group of boys, speaking in a voice that was neither too loud nor too soft: "I bet Zong Heng will admit defeat first."
After saying that, she left without looking back, leaving a group of dumbfounded boys behind.
The news quickly reached Zong Heng's ears.
After school, he blocked Xu Ying at the stairwell, leaning against the wall next to her ear with one hand: "I heard you bet I'd lose?"
Xu Ying looked up at him, her eyes calm: "Is there a problem?"
Zong Heng was amused by her attitude: "Do you know what happened to the last person who provoked me like this?"
"I don't know." Xu Ying paused. "And I don't want to know."
She bent down and crawled out from under his arm, took two steps and then turned back: "By the way, don't pour water on my chair tomorrow, it's childish."
Zong Heng stood there, watching her walk away, and suddenly felt a tightness in his chest.
—Why is this girl so difficult to deal with?
On Friday, Xu Ying was absent from PE class due to her period and read a book alone in the classroom.
Sunlight streamed in through the window, casting a warm glow on the table. She was dozing off when she suddenly heard the door open.
Looking up, I saw Zong Heng standing at the door, his forehead still sweaty, his school uniform sleeves rolled up to his elbows, revealing his well-defined forearms.
The two looked at each other, both somewhat stunned.
"Why are you back?" Xu Ying asked.
Zong Heng didn't answer. He walked straight up to her and slammed something on the table.
—It is a pen.
Xu Ying recognized it; it was the one he had "borrowed" from her on the first day.
There's something extra on the pen: a crooked little rabbit drawn with a black marker, with particularly big ears, looking rather silly.
"Here you go." Zong Heng's tone was curt, his gaze drifting to the window. "It's ugly, but you'll have to make do with it."
Xu Ying picked up her pen and gently stroked the rabbit with her fingertips.
She suddenly smiled.
Zong Heng was stunned. This was the first time he had seen her smile—her eyes curved into crescent moons, and a small dimple appeared at the corner of her mouth, so sweet it made his heart flutter.
"Thank you," she said softly.
Zong Heng's Adam's apple bobbed, and he suddenly felt his mouth go dry. He turned around awkwardly, leaving behind the words "Don't flatter yourself," and then practically fled.
Xu Ying watched his retreating figure, then looked down at the ugly-cute rabbit, and suddenly felt her heart beating a little fast.
—It seems quite cute.
From that day on, Zongheng's pranks suddenly stopped.
He still sleeps at his desk every day, and when he occasionally wakes up, he just stares out the window in a daze and no longer bothers her.
Xu Ying was happy to have some peace and quiet, but she vaguely felt that something was missing.
On Wednesday morning, she arrived at school early as usual and found a carton of milk on her desk, still warm.
She looked around; the classroom was empty.
—Except for someone in a certain seat who is pretending to be asleep.
Xu Ying picked up the milk and found a note underneath, on which two words were written in a flamboyant style:
"apologize."
She stared at those two words for a long time, and suddenly felt her heart beating a little fast.
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