Chapter 1: An Unlucky Year

The air smelled like camphor leaves stained with mud after raining.

An orange cat stepped onto Yue Zhishi after it jumped onto his bed, and he blinked open his eyes in a
haze, shocked to realize he’d overslept.

He usually was never late all that often over the course of a year, but he just had to be late on the first
day of school. He was so unlucky. Hearing Aunt Rong call out to him from downstairs, Yue Zhishi
hurriedly responded; the cat once again stepped over his stomach before lightly jumping off the bed. He
rapidly cleaned up, changed clothes and then ran out, grabbing his schoolbag.

“Your alarm didn’t ring?” Lin Rong was calmly rinsing out a milk cup. “Hurry and have some breakfast,
I’ve mixed in some rice noodles with the sauce from last night’s stewed beef. It’s quite delicious.”

Yue Zhishi had already flown over to the entrance corridor — who had the time to care about breakfast.

“I forgot to set a new alarm since there wasn’t morning self-study before the school opening ceremony.
Aunt Rong, where’s Song Yu ge ge?”

The little Pomeranian at home pattered behind him, docilely sitting on the floor as it watched him
change his shoes.

“Your brother left way earlier. I think he said he needed to be on duty today since it’s the opening
ceremony. Do high school third year students still need to go on duty?” Lin Rong placed down the cup,
turning around after wiping dry her hands. “Isn’t the opening ceremony for your junior high
department with the high school department…”

By the time she had turned her head around, Yue Zhishi had already opened the door. The Pomeranian
was frantically clawing at his legs and refusing to let him leave.

Lin Rong anxiously called out to him, “Le Le! You can’t skip breakfast!”

Yue Zhishi crouched down to rub the dog’s head and then gave it a kiss. He rushed out the door, saying,
“I’ll buy a rice cake, bye bye Aunt Rong~”

“Don’t eat just anything!”

After leaving home, Yue Zhishi biked straight towards the breakfast stalls outside their neighborhood.
The granny who usually sold rice cakes wasn’t there today; Yue Zhishi had heard her say before that her
waist was hurting, so he guessed she was taking a rest for a few days. He would definitely need to buy a
few more cakes off her next time. Fragrance was wafting out of the noodle soup stall next door — the
aroma of beef offal, stewed until soft and full of flavor, could be smelled from far away.

“Le Le, have you had breakfast yet? Come have some noodles.” The owner of the beef noodle soup stall
pulled out a colander of rice noodles from a large pot, the hot strands of soup pouring down from the
colander like white silk. He threw up the colander and lowered it back down.

“I’m about to be late, Uncle Chen, I’ll have some tomorrow!” Yue Zhishi jumped off his bike and ran into
the convenience store. He didn’t have the time to stand around and choose, so he simply grabbed a rice
bun, paid and left. The bun was one of the few snacks Yue Zhishi could buy from the convenience store.

Rain had poured all through the night yesterday. The rain in this city had never been gentle, always
accompanied by lightning flashes and thunder — he hadn’t been able to sleep the entire night. He
remembered the first night he’d arrived at the Song family; it had stormed the same way with lightning
tearing through the night sky. At the first rumble of thunder, he’d been so scared he’d started crying
and had ran directly into Song Yu’s room, climbing into his bed.

From that moment on, he’d instinctively started to depend on that older brother who had no blood
relationship to him at all.

Yue Zhishi’s father, Yue Yi, and Song Yu’s father, Song Jin, had been close friends who’d grown up
together.

Yue Yi’s parents had passed away early, and before he’d gone to live abroad in England, Yue Yi had
essentially been an extra member of the Song family. He’d eaten and lived together with them. Yue Yi
had liked extreme sports, and he’d met an English girl called Olivia when rock-climbing. The two of
them had fallen passionately in love and given birth to the adorable Yue Zhishi. But happiness never
lasted — eleven years ago, the two of them had been skiing in the Alps and had been caught in an
accidental avalanche, passing away together.

Over the course of one night, Yue Zhishi had lost both his parents. Song Jin had flown over to England to
take him back to China, and even he hadn’t known how to explain it to a three year old child.

Yue Zhishi had held onto Song Jin’s sleeve, knowing only how to sweetly call him ‘uncle’ in English. He
hadn’t understood what death was, what a foster family was. He had been brought back to the Song
family and, from then on, had spread his roots in Jiang city.

The red light at the road forced Yue Zhishi to brake. He’d woken up too quickly that morning, and his
brain was still a bit fuzzy; his gaze stared at the spot of light on top of the red light, and his thoughts
jumped around and scattered. Only broken shadows remained of last night’s dream — it felt like he’d
turned into a small little circle that had rolled around behind Song Yu. He hadn’t been able to speak
Chinese fluently and had been able to only cling to Song Yu.

Lin Rong frequently teased Yue Zhishi jealously, saying the first Chinese vocabulary he’d learned was
actually ‘gege’.

But Song Yu had been taciturn since he was a child, indifferent to everyone. Luckily, even though he
hadn’t really responded to Yue Zhishi much, he hadn’t pushed him away; he’d let Yue Zhishi cling to
him however he’d wanted. Except once they’d grown up and started attending elementary school, Yue
Zhishi’s mixed race looks had started to become even more eye-catching.

Song Yu was already outstanding by himself, so when a western doll child started to follow behind him,
he had essentially needed to handle nosy questions about his family every day. Song Yu lost all patience
after some time. Fortunately, they moved into a new place and left the school district and elementary
school classmates from before, and so he set down three large rules after starting junior high:

You can’t call me gege out in public.

You can’t come to school or go home with me.

You can’t let other people know you’re living in my home.

Yue Zhishi hadn’t been able to accept it, at first. Song Yu separating from him due to entering junior
high had affected him heavily enough, let alone him no longer allowing Yue Zhishi to call him gege. But
he’d always been a child who followed only Song Yu’s lead, and had been the best at following rules.
After all, compared to being ignored, Yue Zhishi had still been able to accept keeping his distance while
in public.

In Yue Zhishi’s heart, Song Yu seemed to be a benchmark forever erected in front of him; he’d chased
after him since he’d learned how to toddle. When Song Yu was six years old and he was three, he’d
followed gege out of the house with stumbling steps to watch the ants as they moved; when Song Yu was
ten and he was seven, he’d had to have his mouth covered on the bus as he sang in happiness from
going to elementary school with gege for the first time; when Song Yu was fifteen and he was twelve,
he’d held a small electronic fan underneath the hot sun, and the old grandpa selling ice cream had given
him a stool to sit on as he waited for gege to leave the examination center. He still remembered eating
three popsicles that day — Song Yu hadn’t found out, and had even given up on taking the school bus
because of Yue Zhishi. They’d taken a taxi to eat crayfish.

The crayfish that day had been particularly large. He’d eaten twenty-three of them, and Song Yu had
peeled fifteen of them for him since he’d thought Yue Zhishi had peeled them too slowly. Yue Zhishi
remembered what he’d retorted back: “Even though I don’t know how to peel crayfish, I’m really good
at hiding, right? Your classmates didn’t see me at all.”
Except Song Yu hadn’t agreed. “But I saw you immediately. You didn’t hide well at all.”

Yue Zhishi had kept stubbornly insisting he was very skilled at hiding, and that included his relationship
with Song Yu. But later, he couldn’t help but admit — Song Yu was right.

“The light’s green, let’s go.”

The voice on the street interrupted his thoughts, and after glancing at the time, Yue Zhishi increased
the speed of his pedaling, his thin body arching up as his feet accelerated. The wind of early September
was still warm, and it wrapped around his body, blowing up his summer uniform shirt. Yue Zhishi’s
brown hair, slightly curly, shimmered faintly golden under the sunlight, and it looked both fluffy and
soft.

He flew towards school. He’d just parked his bike when he saw the crowds outside the school entrance,
and he faintly felt like he’d forgotten something.

“Le Le!” A violent smack landed on his shoulder, startling Yue Zhishi into turn his head around. It was
his best friend and current desk mate, Jiang Yufan.

The character for Yue Zhishi’s surname was unique. Many people at first glance would read it as the ‘le’
in happiness (kuai le 快乐) and not the ‘yue’ in music (yin yue 音乐). After how often it
happened, he obtained a nickname — Le Le. Not only his family, but also his classmates and
friends would call him by that nickname.

Jiang Yufan looked pleased at being able to scare him, and he rubbed a hand over his crew cut that’d just
been forced onto him by his mother that morning. “Why are you also arriving so last minute today?”

“I overslept,” Yue Zhishi said, dragging Jiang Yufan over to the entrance. “There are so many people.”

Jiang Yufan was as calm as ever. “Whenever there’s no morning self-study, more people end up late.” He
saw the students on duty with their armbands from far away and checked his uniform, conveniently
glancing over at Yue Zhishi.

“Hey, wait.” Jiang Yufan grabbed him. “Le, where’s your name badge?”

The quickly moving Yue Zhishi was suddenly shocked awake, and he patted his chest — it truly was
empty.

“Oh no. Aunt Rong takes off our name badges every time she washes our clothes. I forgot to get it this
morning in my rush out the door.”
“What’ll you do?” Jiang Yufan went on his tiptoes to glance at the school entrance. “Shit, Compass is
there too.”

‘Compass’ was the nickname for their junior high school department’s school director. Everyone called
him that because he was tall, bony and was also meticulously strict with rules.

Yue Zhishi became even more worried; Compass truly was famous for how strict he was. He would even
record it down when girls tailored their uniform skirts. Today was also the school opening ceremony —
Yue Zhishi himself would most likely be recorded down today.

Pulling at the strap on his schoolbag, he attempted to cover up the empty spot on his shirt. “Jiang
Yufan, help block me.”

“Okay. We might be lucky and sneak past.”

Jiang Yufan covered up half of Yue Zhishi’s body, and the two of them walked quickly to the school
entrance, attached together like siamese twins. They attempted to slip past through a group of students
being checked.

Compass’s voice was very sharp. “That student over there, turn out your shirt collar. The school
opening ceremony’s going to be recorded and is going to be uploaded to the school’s website. The way
you look reflect our Peiya’s image, understand?”

Yue Zhishi’s hand clenched on his bag strap, and he lowered his head, sticking closely to Jiang Yufan as
they continued forward.

“How do you explain your pants?”

“Teacher, my uniform pants haven’t dried yet, so I wore something similar…”

“Are you saying two pairs of pants aren’t enough for you?!”

Yue Zhishi’s head was very low, and he had already prepared an apology.

“Stop.”

He was so scared he was like a rabbit with its acupuncture point pressed: he immediately stopped
walking, and yet he still didn’t dare to lift his head.

Not me, definitely not me.

“I’m talking about you.”

Compass came a bit nearer, and one of the students on duty followed next to him. “You, the girl with the
short hair. Where’s your name badge? What class are you?”

Yue Zhishi had just let out a breath in relief when he heard Compass say, “We’ve already said a
countless number of times that students must wear their student name badges when at school. Is that
so hard to do? Is there anyone else who isn’t wearing theirs?”

Me.

Yue Zhishi’s entire body stiffened — it felt like a monstrous large hand had suddenly appeared and
dragged him out of the crowd, tugging him to Compass and even pointing at that patch of empty cloth
on his chest without a name badge.

Someone actually tugged his arm the moment his nerves were at their tightest. His heart frantically
jerked, and Yue Zhishi subconsciously apologized, “I’m sorry…”

Except in the next second, that hand moved down his arm and held onto Yue Zhishi’s hand, spreading
open Yue Zhishi’s fingers within the tightly packed group of students. A metal badge, carrying the
warmth of a body, was stuffed inside.

It sounded very incredible, but Yue Zhishi could tell who it was just by the hand. When he raised his
head, he saw a cold yet familiar face, as expected.

The other person was wearing the high school department’s uniform, and a red armband was around
his arm. He was faintly frowning under the direct sunlight.

It wasn’t anyone else — it was the ‘gege’ he lived together with under the same roof.

Yue Zhishi’s eyes slightly widened, his light-coloured eyes as clear and transparent as amber under the
sun. A layer of electricity traveled across his entire body at seeing Song Yu, and he wanted to open his
mouth without conscious thought — except he reflexively choked back the ‘ge’ that had flown up to his
mouth in the next second.

With their eyes meeting, Song Yu relaxed his hand and shifted his gaze away. His eyes were indifferent,
as though their relationship was truly only of a senior student on duty and a junior bother caught
breaking the rules. Song Yu swept his eyes over his watch, and then he pulled out a pen from his pocket
to prepare to write down the names of people who were late.
Everyone else around them were still focused on Compass and the girl being disciplined. No one noticed
this secret exchange. With his head lowered, Yue Zhishi looked at the name badge in his hand. The
seven words [Peiya junior high school department Yue Zhishi] were etched on top. Before Compass
could notice, Yue Zhishi quickly pinned the badge to his shirt.

His hand had just left his shirt when a pair of shrewd eyes scoured over him. Yue Zhishi sent Compass a
smile; he had been born with an innocent face and a pair of incomparably pure puppy dog eyes. Even
though not everyone would appreciate his looks, his beautiful face truly did make it very difficult for
others to harden their hearts and criticize him.

“You were almost late.” Compass may had said so, but he still let him past. “Head inside.”

“Mn.” Yue Zhishi docilely nodded. “Thank you, director.”

The school’s clock tower rang just then. He couldn’t help but turn back around. In the crowd, Song Yu
was as tall as a dawn redwood tree — he was someone who would shimmer and glow upon his first
appearance in an anime.

There wasn’t much time left. Everyone needed to gather in their classrooms before the school opening
ceremony. Yue Zhishi didn’t want to be even more late, and so he desperately ran towards the
classroom. But Jiang Yufan found it strange, saying, “Wait, Yue Zhishi, you stand still! I saw it!”

“We’re going to be late, we’re going to be late.” Yue Zhishi whooshed ahead, his heart speeding terribly
quickly.

Jiang Yufan was panting for air as he chased behind him. “Don’t… don’t interrupt. Tell me honestly, why
was your name badge with Song Yu?”

The author has something to say:

Song Yu: Because I’m his older brother

(not really, you guys aren’t related by blood nor by any legal relationship (at least, so far) — *desire to
survive*)

It’s been a long time!

Le Le, Song Yu and I give everyone a bow~ If you like this chapter, I’d like to trouble you to bookmark
the novel, thank you to all you little angels and your support!
Chapter 2: A New Turning Point

“Maybe… he picked it up.”

“Picked it up?”

He picked up something so small?

“As if I’d believe that!” Frowning, Jiang Yufan followed behind Yue Zhishi as they climbed to the second
floor of the junior high school department’s classroom building. He continued to ask, his footsteps
stomping up the stairs, “Even if he did pick it up, how would he know you’re Yue Zhishi?”

Yue Zhishi countered, “Aren’t I recognisable?”

“That’s true…” There had been an extremely high amount of discussion around Yue Zhishi when he’d
first entered the school just based on his mixed race face, but Jiang Yufan still found it peculiar. “That
really almost scared me to death. I almost thought you were done for as soon as I saw Song Yu with that
armband.”

Yue Zhishi panted, holding onto the railing. “Seriously?”

“What do you mean? Breaking the rules on the first day of school and even bumping into the coldly aloof
Song Yu as the student on duty — I even thought he was going to execute you on the spot when he
pulled at you.”
They were almost at their classroom. Yue Zhishi turned around and shushed him, rapidly entering the
room.

Very coincidentally, the class monitor was taking attendance. Yue Zhishi did his best to hold back his
heavy pants for air, and he stood at the door, his hair curling upwards from the rush up. “Teacher…”

Class adviser Wang Qian was a young male teacher, and he taught Chinese. He was able to interact well
with students, but he was still able to be ruthlessly strict. Luckily, Yue Zhishi had always embodied what
an obedient student was: he was never late, never skipped classes and never caused issues. And since he
also had good grades and was easy to like, Teacher Wang didn’t make things difficult for him. “Come
in.”

But Jiang Yufan wasn’t so lucky.

There was a playful smile on Wang Qian’s face. “Isn’t this a permanent guest of our class’s team of late
students?”

“Teacher Wang,” Jiang Yufan ruffled his crew cut, “wasn’t I behind Yue Zhishi by just two steps.”

“True. I think that’s a pretty good standard, actually.” Wang Qian crossed his arms. “From today on, you
can only be later than your desk mate by two steps, or else you’ll be punished by standing for the entire
morning self-study session.”

“Ah?” Jiang Yufan’s face crumpled miserably. The rest of the students in their class 8, watching the fun,
all burst into laughter.

“What ‘ah’? Come in.” Wang Qian then started to nag at the other students. “We won’t talk about your
usual small fusses and fights, but you better be a bit more serious during the opening ceremony. I won’t
save you guys if you’re caught by the school guidance director even if you’re publicly executed. I
suppose if you become famous throughout the entire school before entering high school, then it means
you didn’t take junior high for nothing.”

Everyone was trying to hide their laughter. Yue Zhishi was still trying to recover his breath, numbly
trying to stuff his schoolbag into his desk only for it to not go in no matter how he tried. He only then
realized there was something in his drawer; he reached in and pulled out an exquisite royal blue gift
box.

Strange. He carefully looked over it.

“Who gave you something again? How nice, getting a present on the first day of school.” Jiang Yufan
curved over his desk and quietly teased, “Must be nice being good-looking.”
“Not really.” Lifting his head, Yue Zhishi stole a look at Wang Qian before opening the gift box. There
was a delicate white fountain pen inside, as well as a bottle of ink; a card rested on top. He didn’t touch
the fountain pen, only flipping open the card to read the words on it before placing it back. He returned
the box into his drawer.

Gossipy Jiang Yufan leaned closer. “Which class is it from? That fountain pen doesn’t look cheap.”

Yue Zhishi pursed his lips, looking like he was considering something.

“We won’t be sent home immediately right after the opening ceremony, right?”

“I don’t think so, we probably still have to come back to the classroom. Why?”

“I want to go visit class 11 and give the gift back.”

Everyone in the class had already stood up, prepared to head towards the school gymnasium. Jiang
Yufan really couldn’t understand why Yue Zhishi wanted to return the gift so seriously. “Wait, Le Le. Are
you really giving it back? The girl’s tender heart will probably be hurt.”

Yue Zhishi was a bit hungry, so he unzipped his bag, pulling out the rice bun. After he opened it, he ate
half the bun with one bite, and he mumbled, “If I don’t give it back, she might think I accepted her
feelings. But I haven’t, so it’s not right to keep it. Besides, I’m only in third year of junior high, I can’t
date.”

Jiang Yufan was in utter disbelief. “Oh my god, where did such an obedient baby came from. That guy
next door had three different girlfriends last semester. Fine. Since you won’t be able to understand how
a girl feels when heartbroken anyway.”

Heartbroken.

Yue Zhishi truly didn’t know how that felt, but he considered which one was worse out of being
heartbroken or being deceived and firmly decided what to do.

“I’ll talk to her clearly.” Yue Zhishi rapidly took another bite of the bun and got up with the rest of the
class. A completely new box of meds dropped out of his schoolbag, and he bent over, picking it up. He
wanted to put it into his pocket, but the pockets of their uniform pants were too small — it wouldn’t fit.
He tried to tear open the packaging, but the plastic was truly too strong.

“Come on, let’s go.” Jiang Yufan tugged at him.

“Oh, okay.”
The students in the entire school streamed in a massive flood into the gymnasium. He only realised
there was no trash bin after going inside, and so Yue Zhishi quickly finished off the last piece of the bun,
folding the packaging in half and stuffing it into his pants pocket.

Peiya was one of the most famous schools in their area. Compared to nearby Jingjian’s focus on scores
and performance, this school was quite western in its teaching style. Many students left the school to go
overseas, to the point there was a saying: “Only half of Peiya’s third year high school students take the
university entrance exams.” The school was also rich and could afford its land — the junior high and
high school departments had never been separated.

With such a colossal student body, the once a year school opening ceremony naturally became a big
event in the school. The students could be as free and undisciplined as they wanted usually, but on this
one day, nothing was allowed to go wrong.

High school students went inside first, and they sat down in the gymnasium spectator seats according
to their year and class. Compass was at the front, arranging everyone. “Students in junior high third
year’s class 6 through 11, sit in the court.”

“Ah?”

“Why is it us blue classes again?”

“Time to sit on the ground again, eh.”

The spring uniform for Peiya’s junior high school department was a light blue, short-sleeved shirt,
while high school’s shirt was white. The knitted vests for their winter uniform were also in these two
colors, so after a while, everyone started to refer to the separate school departments through their
uniform colors.

Everyone searched for their class locations. After not seeing each other for an entire summer, the first
thing the girls talked about upon gathering together was gossip — after all, that was an ever popular
topic of conversation.

“Did you see the confession wall last night?”

“No, who’s it this time?”

“Someone from junior high second year. She confessed to senior Song Yu, and she wrote heaps, saying
she’d liked him for an entire year.”

“Wow, the school grass… Such courage.”

“Has our school decided on who the school grass is? I don’t remember voting.”

“We haven’t, but pretty much everyone’s acknowledged Song Yu. I can’t believe she has the courage to
pursue him. I haven’t seen him friendly with any girl in high school, let alone in the junior high
department.”

Yue Zhishi was a bit happy at hearing Song Yu’s name, and yet his heart also felt slightly awkward. His
face itched; he pushed lightly at his hair, his eyes gazing in all four directions while he slowly followed
along the crowd. The class monitor told everyone to sit down on the ground. Yue Zhishi sat at the end of
the boys’ section, and the girls at the front changed the focus of their gossiping from the explosive news
of a junior high second year girl’s confession to a senior in high school third year to exactly how many
school grasses Peiya contained.

“There was an argument under the confession wall later. Someone said that since Song Yu had a poker
face and was cold to everyone, he couldn’t compare to junior high’s Yue Zhishi. I was dying from
laughter, to think I would end up reading about my own class in all the fuss.”

“What did that person mean by ‘couldn’t compare’? Le Le really is good-looking, aren’t his mixed looks
nice? Plus he has a good personality.”

“Someone said he’s too young. But after arguing back and forth, everyone agreed there’d be one grass
each from the junior and high school departments. There were no more arguments then.”

“Hahaha true, the two of them have the kind of looks that you could only get in games. When are they
going to stand together so we can compare.”

“It’d be hard enough just to get them in the same frame. Their lives don’t intersect at all.”

Ears perked, Jiang Yufan had listened enough. He clicked his tongue several times, saying, “Our young
Le Le’s not bad, he’s now even able to be compared to Song Yu.”

Yue Zhishi had been busy searching for Song Yu’s figure in the audience spectator seats, his neck
outstretched, and hadn’t heard the discussion his female classmates had had about him. He was a bit
confused when Jiang Yufan cued him. “Huh?”

Unexpectedly, the girl sitting diagonally in front of him turned around, her face filled with curiosity. “Le
Le, what do you think about senior Song Yu? Other than his personality.”

This was the first time he’d been asked about Song Yu since starting junior high.
Yue Zhishi realized he felt guilty — he felt the same as when he’d sneakily waited for Song Yu under the
sun outside the examination center. The speed of his blinks subconsciously increased, and he attempted
to give them a reply that sounded more like it belonged to a stranger.

“Senior Song Yu’s really handsome. His grades are really good too.”

But he still couldn’t hold back his protective heart, and he said, “And I think there’s nothing wrong with
his personality.” Yue Zhishi’s voice was unusually earnest. “He just doesn’t like talking. That doesn’t
mean he has a bad personality. And even though he looks somewhat scary, he’s actually a really good
person…”

The girl felt something was strange the more she listened, and she doubtfully interrupted, “Wait, how
do you know he’s a good person?”

As expected, he was very unskilled at hiding.

Yue Zhishi was immediately made speechless, but Jiang Yufan chimed in and said, “You know what,
Song Yu really is slightly better than I’d imagined. He was on duty today, and he actually didn’t report it
when he picked up Le Le’s name badge. He even helped Le Le to hide it from Compass.”

“Really?”

“What a savior.”

“He truly is a handsome guy!”

The ceremony started. The class monitor at the front reminded them to stop talking, and only then did
the gossip cease. Yue Zhishi let out a breath in relief — he’d almost exposed himself. With the way they
gossiped, they’d definitely not stop if they truly found out about the relationship between him and Song
Yu.

The content of every year’s school opening ceremony was pretty much the same. Yue Zhishi was
completely not paying attention to the person talking on stage. Soon after, the representative for the
junior high school department got on stage; it was the female school tyrant from their class. Yue Zhishi
sat up straight and lifted up his head in support, doing his best to listen to her speech, but the lights in
the gymnasium were overly bright. His head drooped down bit by bit, like a sunflower wilting
underneath the sun.

He didn’t know if it was because he’d eaten the bun too quickly, but his stomach felt a bit
uncomfortable. It felt like there was a wad of cotton stuffed inside — it couldn’t go up or down.
Rubbing his belly, Yue Zhishi looked at the small patch he’d dirtied on the top of his canvas sneakers.
His eyes focused on that patch, and it slowly grew larger, diffusing outwards like a heavy dark cloud
bringing in rain. He heard the sounds of applause that belonged only to the end of a speech, and the
noise, like boiling water, poured into his ears and burned all the way to his chest, the steam of it
swelling up his lungs.

There was a small commotion within the students. His throat was dry and itchy, feeling as though a
feather was stuck inside. As Yue Zhishi lowered his head, clearing his throat, the new student body
representative walked onstage.

A sharp screech rang from the speakers after the student representative neared the microphone — it
was like an emphatic omen.

In the next second, a deep voice came from that not too cooperative microphone.

“Apologies.”

Yue Zhishi immediately lifted his head and looked towards the person on the stage, his chest heaving.

“Good morning, everyone. My name is Song Yu, from high school class 3-5.”

His heart sped up — it was a pathological speeding up.

Just like what those girls had said, Song Yu’s handsomeness was widely acknowledged. But his features
and body were long and slender, and so were his eyes, the corners of them sharp and penetrating. All of
these things made him feel extremely oppressive and distant.

It was very difficult to find leftover hints of emotions on that face.

On the contrary, Yue Zhishi’s features were soft and gentle, and they leaned young and immature
without any sense of aggression. His transparent amber-coloured eyes were both sincere and innocent.

“It’s the first day of school today…”

Song Yu’s eyes were lowered, his gaze on the folder spread open on his forearms. He was speaking
neither too fast nor too slow, and he’d occasionally raise up his head, his eyes calm.

Ever since he’d been a child, Yue Zhishi had really liked listening to Song Yu as he recited things. It
hadn’t mattered what the content was. But at this very moment, he didn’t feel quite right — he was
clearly trying so hard to listen to each and every word, and yet he couldn’t concentrate. The dry and
itchy feeling in his throat became more and more obvious.
It felt like his air tubes were being compressed, bit by bit. The flow of air was squeezed in those
cramped corridors, unable to flow up or flow down.

Oh no.

This reaction was too familiar; Yue Zhishi pulled out the folded packaging to double check. The sounds
of air going through his lungs were like bellows consistently trying to open.

He truly ended up buying the wrong thing. This brand only differentiated its normal bun from its rice
flour bun through a mark on the packaging’s lower right-hand corner — everything else looked the
same.

Yue Zhishi suffered from a severe wheat allergy. Other than the commonly seen symptoms of rashes
and an itchy throat, he also suffered from a food allergy’s most uncomfortable reaction: asthma. The
asthma would only flare up whenever he came into contact with a large amount of his allergen, but it
came with terrifying force.

The gymnasium was overly quiet. Yue Zhishi could only hear Song Yu’s voice, as well as the wheezing
that grew more and more distinct within his chest.

His first reaction was to feel regret — regret that he’d left his meds on his desk. Who’d have thought that
the one time he left his meds behind, he would have an allergic reaction.

But that thought didn’t last for long, the instinctive urge to seek help coming faster. With the asthma
stealing away his strength, Yue Zhishi struggled to pitch forward and grabbed hold of Jiang Yufan’s arm.

The people around him had also noticed him acting strangely.

“A new semester means a new beginning.”

On the stage, Song Yu continued reading out his speech with his eyes lowered.

There was an abrupt disturbance within the students below the stage, and it was centered mainly at the
end of a certain class. Several people had even stood up and formed a circle. Students in other classes
had also noticed something, and they were looking over, their necks craning.

“This is both a step forward and a point of transition. Your accumulated past is urgently waiting to
break free — your turning point is just ahead…”
Song Yu didn’t really care about what was happening — that was just his personality. He merely looked
up, and then, through the gaps of people within the disordered crowd, he saw someone collapsed onto
the floor. He saw only half a face.

“Le Le! Are you okay?!”

The school director appeared and started to maintain order, not knowing what was happening. “Hey,
that class — what are you guys doing?”

Jiang Yufan was kneeling on the ground. He anxiously said, “Teacher! Someone’s sick!”

The speech coming through the microphone came to an abrupt stop. Clatter — that was the folder
falling down, and it was magnified by the speakers, turning especially hurried and unexpected.

The director looked back to the stage; there was already no one on there. “Everything’s a mess!”

The student from the photography student club, responsible for recording the entire ceremony, was
still foolishly holding up the camera. For a moment, he didn’t know if he should chase after the student
representative with his camera, or if he should continue focusing on that empty stage.

Since an accident had occurred, temporarily pausing his speech could be reluctantly considered as a
normal reaction. But the representative had left the stage without saying a single thing.

And that person was Song Yu.

That was way too unusual.

The author has something to say:

The confession wall will have another explosive piece of news in the comment section later on, but no one will
remember the original intention behind the initial submission（。

Translator has something to say:

– ‘School grass’ (校草) is the term used to refer to the most handsome guy in the school.
Flower = girl, grass = boy. LOL. So you have the year flower/grass, school flower/grass and
then later department flower/grass, university flower/grass etc. etc.
– School tyrant (学霸) is someone who’s top of the class, overachiever, etc. There’s also
university tyrant, aka someone super smart and gets good grades in university. I decided to
use tyrant since that term is pretty common in the English BL world!

Chapter 3: Scene of a Confession

The sounds of people’s voices filled the gymnasium.

Yue Zhishi was lying on his side on the ground, his symptoms getting worse. He clearly wanted to
breathe in deep breaths of air, but the amount of air that flowed into his body became thinner and
thinner. It was as though there was a hole in his chest, the air leaking out with a hiss. Before he could
take a single satisfactory breath of air, he had already started to violently cough.

Wang Qian was also very anxious, sensing that the condition of his student’s body was truly extremely
bad. “Yue Zhishi, what’s wrong? Are you okay? Can you talk?” Shifting Yue Zhishi up, he lightly patted
his back. “Try to take a deep breath. Slowly.”

Just as everyone was unsure about what to do, a person in white burst into this field of light blue,
breaking open the huddle of people.
“Spread out. Don’t surround him.”

The classmates around were all startled — no one expected Song Yu, who had just been speaking on
stage, would suddenly appear here at this very moment.

Class adviser Wang Qian was also a bit shocked at seeing Song Yu. He was a student Wang Qian had led
before, and back then, he’d found the child quite cold and detached. Song Yu hadn’t even had all that
many good friends, and he didn’t seem like someone who would do a heroic deed no matter how Wang
Qian looked at him.

Song Yu knelt down on one leg and half-carried Yue Zhishi in his arms. Yue Zhishi wasn’t able to speak
anymore by now. Song Yu adjusted the way Yue Zhishi sat, and then took out an inhaler from his own
pocket.

See the medicine Song Yu carried with him, Wang Qian was slightly uncertain, and he carefully
questioned, “Song Yu, can he take your medicine? I’ve already called the emergency staff at the school
hospital, they’ll be here really soon.”

“They won’t get here on time. This is his puffer.” Song Yu was so calm he didn’t seem like a student at
all; he seemed more like a professional emergency worker. Raising his head, he told the people around
them, “Everyone move out a bit more.”

He loosened Yue Zhishi’s school tie and unbuttoned the top two buttons on his shirt. With Yue Zhishi’s
neck exposed, Song Yu slipped an arm around his shoulders and steadily supported his head. Song Yu’s
other hand aimed the inhaler directly at Yue Zhishi’s mouth, his movements rapid and smooth. “Yue
Zhishi, inhale.”

Right now, Yue Zhishi’s head was covered with cold sweat. His lips were faintly purple, and he
instinctively clutched Song Yu’s arms, using all of the energy in his body to suck that vapor of medicine
into his lungs.

It had been a long time since his last asthma attack. The feeling of not being able to control his tears and his
breathing smashed into him like a wave; his entire mind went blank, but he could hear Song Yu’s voice — it was an
invisible comfort.　

“Again.”

Despite being in the same year for the last two years, it was the first time his surrounding classmates
saw such a first aid scene, and they stood dumbly by the side, stunned. Those who were familiar with
him knew he had an allergy, but he usually only had rashes. He’d never had such a severe allergic attack
before.
The ice-cold medicinal vapor poured into his lungs. Several minutes later, Yue Zhishi’s continuously
heaving chest returned slowly back to normal, and his breathing finally stopped being so short and
weak.

“Do you feel better?” Wang Qian was still quite uneasy. “We’ll still send you to the infirmary to rest.”

“He needs to be checked.” Song Yu took away the inhaler, his gaze also moving away from Yue Zhishi’s
pale face. He inadvertently saw a packaging bag discarded on the floor, two words printed on top.

Reaching out a hand, he placed it onto Yue Zhishi’s chest to feel his current heartbeats. He then grabbed
Yue Zhishi’s arms and turned them over before checking his neck, inspecting the condition of his
rashes.

His symptoms might have been soothed, but Yue Zhishi’s consciousness was still lagging behind. Every
time his asthma flared up, he would always feel extremely dependent, like a nestling who’d had his life
saved in the midst of a fight.

When Song Yu had been giving him first aid, he hadn’t been able to think of anything at all, only
knowing that it must definitely be Song Yu who was saving him. After recovering, the first thing Yue
Zhishi wanted to do was to confirm it — and so he feebly raised his eyes. His heart only eased upon
seeing Song Yu’s face.

“Ge…” His voice was fragile, and his fingers clung weakly to Song Yu’s arm. His allergic attack had swept
over him like a fierce wind; his remaining pieces of willpower had him completely forget about his
promise and his pretense.

Sharp-eared Jiang Yufan repeated out loud without using his brain: “Ge… Ge?!”

That one word, via a human-shaped megaphone, rippled and spread outwards ring upon ring.

Song Yu was Yue Zhishi’s ‘older brother’.

On the day of the school opening ceremony, the entire school learned of the secret Yue Zhishi had
guarded for two years.

In a school, there would always be several people who stood out. If they weren’t talked about, then they
would be surrounded by a crowd.
Yue Zhishi and Song Yu were the classic examples of people who stood out, except no one thought that
these two people, who normally didn’t interact with each other at all, would be connected — and that
they would be connected so closely.

News traveled fastest within a dense mass of people. It didn’t take long for the accident during the
opening ceremony to become everyone’s topic of discussion.

Yue Zhishi’s childhood had never really been tranquil.

He’d entered kindergarten in the middle of a term after arriving to the Song family. He hadn’t been
familiar with anyone, he hadn’t been able to talk to anyone and most importantly, he hadn’t looked the
same as everyone else. He’d constantly been surrounded by people like a circus animal; he’d even been
bullied by some older children who gave him nicknames such as ‘yellow fur’ or ‘little bastard’.

He really hadn’t liked kindergarten. He’d refused to go every day and had wanted only to hide at home
and draw. As soon as he arrived at the entrance to the kindergarten, he’d cry — being carried off the car
had almost been as though they were taking away his life.

After entering elementary school, he had still frequently looked at, but at least Song Yu had been there.
He’d gone looking for Song Yu whenever he was unhappy. Sometimes Song Yu would turn around after
finishing class and see pitiful Yue Zhishi hanging off the door frame of the back door of the classroom;
he’d looked just like a puppy who’d yet to be weaned.

As kids his age slowly started to mature, less people had ostracized him; everyone started to gradually
get used to him. And then later again, after those kids had grown up and their sense of beauty had
changed, more and more people started to think Yue Zhishi was actually good-looking, to the point his
looks couldn’t be compared at all to the other boys his age. He had a good personality as well, and so
Yue Zhishi inexplicably turned from the one being bullied to the one being pursued and admired. In
short — the talk around Yue Zhishi had never once stopped.

He didn’t like being the center of attention, he didn’t want to be publicly punished during the opening
ceremony, and yet in the end, Yue Zhishi still caught the entire school’s attention through such a
spectacular method.

Lying on a bed in the infirmary, he gazed up at the ceiling in a daze. The doctor on duty gave him a
check up, and he obediently followed the doctor’s instructions like a toy without a soul. He lay back
down afterwards and continued to rest.

His calm and steady breathing soothed him.

Yue Zhishi had had a rich imagination ever since he was a child. He could think of a hermit crab on a
white beach from the tiny stain on the ceiling, and then he could use that small space in the crab’s shell
to think of caves — or even black holes.

Just as he was using that ceiling to explore the universe, the door suddenly opened. Yue Zhishi flipped
over, pulled back the bed curtains a small crack and peeped out, only to see Jiang Yufan’s face. He fell
back onto the bed, disappointed.

“Le Le?” Jiang Yufan kept his voice very low, as though worried he would wake Yue Zhishi.

“I’m not asleep.” Yue Zhishi sat up on the bed and drew back the curtains. “Has the ceremony finished?
So quick.”

“Mn.” Jiang Yufan had helped him bring over his schoolbag and even handed him a carton of milk. “You
shouldn’t be allergic to this one, right? I’ve seen you drink it usually.” He relaxed only after Yue Zhishi
shook his head. “Teacher said you don’t have to go back and report. You can just go home after you feel
better.”

Yue Zhishi took a sip of the milk. “Has Teacher Wang called my family?”

This was entirely an accident to begin with — it was him who hadn’t been careful. He didn’t want Aunt
Rong to worry about him.

“I don’t know, but he called Song Yu and talked with him for a while. Probably to understand the
situation.” Jiang Yufan found the confidence to now say, “I was saying how could there be such
coincidences. He just so happened to pick up your name badge, just to happened to recognise you. He
even ran down from the stage halfway through his speech to give you first aid, and he just so happened
to be carrying your meds. If it weren’t for you calling out ge at the end there, I was about to suspect if
the two of you had some kind of unspeakable relationship.”

Yue Zhishi jumped, hearing that final sentence. “No no no, how could that be possible.” And then, he
belatedly explained, “We’re not real brothers either.”

Actually, he too was feeling very regretful. After he had recovered and been able to think again, Yue
Zhishi could pretty much beat himself up whenever he thought about how he’d called Song Yu gege in
front of everyone’s eyes. He was extraordinarily remorseful about doing so.

“Not real brothers? Then cousins?” The light dawned on Jiang Yufan. “I was about to say, the two of you
don’t look alike at all. And you guys don’t have the same surname.”

“We’re not cousins either. Let me explain.” Zipping back up his schoolbag, Yue Zhishi gave him a simple
explanation of his foster situation.
And even though he talked about it mildly and casually, it didn’t matter how silly Jiang Yufan was — he
still found it somewhat of a shock. “I see…”

To children in their early teens, the words of ‘foster care’ were too heavy. They seemed to be linked
with the words of ‘misfortune’, ‘tragedy’ and ‘to depend on others to live’.

Jiang Yufan silently thought, no wonder Yue Zhishi pretended to not know Song Yu at school. He ruffled
his hair and said, “Then, then… Is his family good to you?”

Yue Zhishi smiled. “Yes. They treat me as though I was their own.”

“That’s good, that’s good.” Jiang Yufan then said, “But, then why didn’t they just directly… I mean,
adopt…” He said that last word very very quietly.

But Yue Zhishi didn’t really take it to heart. “Oh that. I asked that before, too. Uncle said that my mom
and dad were very amazing people and that they were my only parents. No one in the world could take
their places, and he hoped I could remember that. And Uncle and Aunt said, even without that formal
recognition, they’ll still take care of me very well.” He added, “Uncle Song is my dad’s best, best friend.
They’d grown up together like real brothers.”

“So it’s like that…” Jiang Yufan looked much more at ease. He patted Yue Zhishi’s shoulders and said
seriously and earnestly, “Don’t worry, I won’t tell other people. My mouth’s sealed tight.”

“It’s fine.” Yue Zhishi lowered his head, abruptly realizing his shirt buttons had been unfastened and his
tie had also been undone. But he didn’t remember what happened when he’d been half-conscious, and
so as he did up his buttons, he mumbled, “What happened…”

“Your brother… I mean, Song Yu undid them when he was giving you first aid.” Jiang Yufan then said,
“You definitely didn’t see it, but he looked too cool when rushing off the stage.”

Yue Zhishi truly hadn’t seen it. It was such a pity, but he could imagine the scene. With his head
lowered, Yue Zhishi saw the black dot splotched on the tip of his shoe, and he thought of the ominous
clouds he’d imagined right before his asthma had flared up. He had been surrounded by dark and dense
clouds, completely trapped.

Song Yu dashing down — he most likely had looked like a a sharp beam of light. He’d cut through those
dark clouds and had found him.

That image came to life in front of Yue Zhishi’s eyes, and a shred of pleasure rose in his heart — even
the milk turned sweet. Grabbing his schoolbag, he realized it was bulging. He unzipped it and took a
look; the gift box he’d received that morning was inside. “You even brought this?”
“I remembered you said you were going to class 11 after everything was over.”

“Mn.” He squeezed the gurgling milk carton and threw it into the trash. After he finished fixing his tie,
he touched Jiang Yufan’s leg with his swaying one and said, “Let’s go, let’s go home and eat.”

Jiang city was still as hot as summer during the beginning of September, and the dense branches of the
golden-rain trees that’d yet to be trimmed for many years almost stretched into the third floor
windows. Those fervent green leaves were obstructed by the tightly shut windows, and they looked
quite pitiful.

They were like the young Yue Zhishi who’d pressed himself against the glass doors of the study rooms,
his pudgy face squeezed into a different shape as he looked at Song Yu.

He’d been classmates with Yue Zhishi since first year of junior high, so Jiang Yufan knew of his allergy.
He just didn’t think it was so serious. He curiously asked, “How did you know you were allergic to
wheat? Since it’s so severe, it must’ve been really dangerous the first time it happened.”

The first time…

He actually remembered bits of it, but his memory of it couldn’t be considered vivid at all. Plus he’d
gone to the hospital too many times as a child — it actually diluted his memory of the time he
discovered he had an allergy.

“I don’t remember. I was only three at that time, I think I had to stay in the hospital.”

“Three!” Jiang Yufan couldn’t dare imagine it. “It was scary enough the way you were today. Good thing
your brother was here, I was scared to death earlier when I looked it up on Baidu. I didn’t realize
asthma could take away people’s lives if they didn’t have their meds with them.”

Yue Zhishi comforted him, saying, “Today was something that happens extremely rarely. It’s the worst
luck among all bad luck.”

But he then remembered: the first time he had a reaction, Song Yu seemed to have also been there.

Saying goodbye to the doctor on duty, the two of them prepared to go downstairs and leave. But they’d
just come out of the infirmary when they saw a delicately pretty girl with short hair; she was dressed in
the junior high uniform like them. Her face was red, and her voice was also very soft as she said, “Yue
Zhishi…”

Yue Zhishi didn’t recognise her. He looked at Jiang Yufan with eyes asking for help.
Jiang Yufan remembered, and he kept his voice low as he reminded his buddy, “This is the girl who gave
you the gift. From class 11.”

Yue Zhishi quietly responded with an ‘ah’.

“Are, are you okay?”

“I’m okay. I feel fine now.” Yue Zhishi also said thank you.

The girl felt a heavy sense of relief, and she pushed her hair behind her ears. “I went to your class to
look for you this morning, but you hadn’t arrived at yet. So I placed something into your desk…”

Yue Zhishi could see her ears flushing.

“I hope you like it.”

The sun was so strong; the young girl’s voice was drowned within the chirping of the cicadas.

Squeezing the straps of his schoolbag, he was silent for two seconds. Finally, he still ended up pulling
open the zipper and took out the gift inside, offering it back to her with two hands.

Jiang Yufan couldn’t handle it — this kind of scene was too suffocating. He turned his head over and
looked down from the third floor, and he unexpectedly saw a familiar figure. That person was very tall
and was dressed in a white shirt.

Wasn’t that Song Yu? Jiang Yufan squinted, taking a closer look.

It really was!

Song Yu was walking over, pushing his bike. He paused under a camphor tree, and he lowered his head
to look at his watch before lifting his head again to glance upstairs. His eyes just so happened to meet
Jiang Yufan’s gaze.

His aura was too strong. Even though they were separated by a good few meters, Jiang Yufan was still
struck by those cold eyes; he immediately turned back around, pretending nothing had happened.

The author has something to say:

Xiao Fan: oh no

To answer some young friends’ questions, gege won’t be studying medicine in the future, it’s just that
he’s mastered the ability to give Le Le emergency treatment from a young age~