Xie Ruan bit down hard on the candy in his mouth, and whatever gratitude he’d felt evaporated instantly.
It seemed Bo Jin was born with a talent for ruining the mood. One minute things were going fine, and the next, he made you want to hit him.
Deciding to ignore him, Xie Ruan shook his hand off, stood up, and went to fill his water bottle.
Seizing the opportunity, He Mingjie propped up his English book to hide his expressionless face.
Sun Haoxiang put on his earphones and went back to gaming, signaling that he was done with the outside world.
As for Pan Yu… he was huddled over his notebook, scribbling furiously, his glasses slipping down his nose without him even noticing.
Observing their reactions, Bo Jin let out a snort. “What? Did I say something wrong?”
He Mingjie looked up from his book, rolling his eyes, and couldn’t help asking a question that had always been on his mind. “Can you explain why you’re so confident all the time?”
“Because my grades are great.” Bo Jin twirled a pen between his fingers, speaking casually, though his words felt like knives aimed at the heart. “Also, because I score full marks in physics every time.”
He Mingjie was good in all his other subjects, but physics was his downfall. His parents had tried every possible method: study forums, online courses, even hiring private tutors, but nothing worked.
No matter how much effort he put in, his physics score stayed just around passing—not improving, not worsening, just solidly average.
Don’t kick a man when he’s down!
Seething, He Mingjie glared at his book, speechless.
After needling He Mingjie, Bo Jin felt great. Catching sight of Xie Ruan returning, he shifted slightly to give him some space.
“Wait a moment,” Xie Ruan said, not sitting down immediately. Instead, he went over to Pan Yu’s desk and tapped on it. “Hey, vice class monitor, can I borrow the grade sheet?”
“Sure.” Pan Yu put down his pen and rummaged in his bookshelf, pulling out the grade sheet tucked inside his math book.
Bo Jin raised an eyebrow. “What do you need that for? Don’t you already know your score?”
Just then, the evening self-study bell officially rang.
Xie Ruan hesitated, using the moment to shut the window and hide his expression, before coming up with an excuse. “Know your opponent, win the war. I need to know who’s around me on all sides.”
“Not bad, kid,” Bo Jin chuckled. “You’re really fired up.”
Xie Ruan was about to say something modest when Bo Jin stretched his wrist, giving him a meaningful look. “Well, it’s no wonder. You’ve had me teaching you step-by-step.”
Xie Ruan: “…”
Goodbye!
Evening study in Class One was quite disciplined; everyone was self-motivated, so there was no need for a teacher or class committee member to supervise. At one point, Teacher Sun walked in to speak to a student who hadn’t done well on the test, calling him out of the room.
Watching them disappear out the door, Xie Ruan discreetly took out his phone, snapped a photo of the grade sheet, and opened his social media.
Keeping an eye on the door out of the corner of his eye, he started typing a post.
But after writing, deleting, and editing his short message multiple times, he still wasn’t satisfied.
Xie Ruan hesitated for a moment, then decided not to add any caption. He set the privacy to “Family Only” and posted the picture of his report card.
After posting, he anxiously reopened it to check, confirming that his ranking and score were clearly visible—enough for anyone to see at a glance. Satisfied, he put down his phone and opened a workbook to study.
His mother had always wanted him to focus on his studies. If she knew how much he’d improved this time, she’d probably be really happy, right?
Turning the pages slowly, a small smile crept onto Xie Ruan’s lips.
For the entire self-study period, Xie Ruan resisted the urge to check his phone, patiently working through most of an English exam. As soon as the bell rang, he reached eagerly into his desk like a bird let out of a cage.
But to his disappointment, his feed was silent, without any new notifications he had hoped for.
She probably hasn’t seen it yet, he thought. After all, he’d only just posted it, and his mom might be busy right now, so it was normal if she hadn’t checked her social media.
He sighed in relief and casually refreshed his feed.
He didn’t have many WeChat friends anymore; everyone connected to Shen Xingyun had been removed, leaving only his family and a few classmates. With fewer contacts, the posts in his feed were sparse.
That’s why he immediately saw a post his mom, Chen Wei, had shared over forty minutes ago—
“My son reached the 8th level in Taekwondo! So proud of you, mom’s little champ! 💪💪”
The post included a photo of a Taekwondo certificate with the name “He Chen” in the name field.
He Chen was Xie Ruan’s half-brother, ten years old and in fourth grade. He struggled academically, just as Xie Ruan had in the past, always near the bottom of the class.
But he was very gifted in sports, attending both Taekwondo and fencing classes, and was reportedly doing well in both.
The two posts sat side by side in his feed, his own beneath his mother’s, separated by only five minutes.
Even if Xie Ruan wanted to excuse her, he couldn’t find a reason to.
The posts were so close together that there was no way she hadn’t seen his. She’d seen it, but just hadn’t cared enough.
Xie Ruan stared at the screen for a long time, unmoving. When the screen finally dimmed, he let out a bitter laugh, unlocked his phone, and deleted the post.
After putting his phone down, he looked out the window for a while, forcing himself to refocus and use the remaining time to review tomorrow’s lesson.
But even though he’d been interested in the material before, he just couldn’t focus now.
Frustrated, he shut his biology workbook, pulled out his phone again, and sent a message to Song Xinghe.
[Your Bro Xie]: Wanna hit up the net café after school for some games?
Song Xinghe seemed to have a button on him that he could control at any moment—whenever the word “game” was mentioned, he would instantly react.
He immediately replied to Xie Ruan’s message.
[Rank-Up Little Song]: Let’s go! Definitely down!
[Rank-Up Little Song]: What’s up, man? No more playing the good student?
Xie Ruan smirked, typing a quick reply.
[Your Bro Xie]: I was never that.
[Rank-Up Little Song]: Haha, awesome, then let’s go! After school, wait for me in the classroom. I’m going back to fix my bed up first.
Shijia High didn’t have strict curfews, and the dorm supervisor didn’t open doors to check inside. They only shone a flashlight through the small window in the door.
As long as you weren’t especially unlucky, you could usually get away with it.
Song Xinghe planned to fix his bed to make it look like someone was asleep under the covers.
[Your Bro Xie]: I’ll go with you.
Since he’d suggested going to the net café, it didn’t seem right to leave all the prep work to Song Xinghe.
[Rank-Up Little Song]: No way! You’d take too long coming down from the fifth floor. I’d have to wait for you, and that would waste valuable game time.
Xie Ruan: “…”
Alright, fine.
After the final evening self-study, instead of packing up to leave, Xie Ruan stayed seated at his desk. Song Xinghe wouldn’t be back that soon; if he went down five minutes later, it’d be just right.
Seeing him still sitting, Bo Jin thought he hadn’t heard the bell. He gave him a light tap on the forehead. “Studied yourself silly? Didn’t realize it was time to go?”
“You go ahead.” Xie Ruan ducked away from his hand and lowered his head, scrolling aimlessly on his phone. “I’m waiting for Song Xinghe.”
Waiting for Song Xinghe? Bo Jin raised an eyebrow.
What was he doing on the fifth floor so late?
Bo Jin subtly observed Xie Ruan’s expression and noticed something was off. After a month of spending time together, he knew Xie Ruan well.
The cold, distant look meant he was definitely not in a good mood.
Watching the swirl of hair on top of his head, Bo Jin’s mind worked.
He’d been fine before evening study, laughing and talking with everyone, so whatever happened must have been during study time.
Knowing how shy and stubborn he could be, Bo Jin decided not to ask directly, figuring he’d get nothing out of him that way. He just nodded and said, “Alright,” grabbed his bag, and left the classroom.
Back in his dorm, Bo Jin changed the batteries in his desk lamp, took a shower, and after a while, took out his phone to send Xie Ruan a message.
At that moment, Xie Ruan had just finished a game and was slumped in his chair, spacing out.
He was so used to the tightly packed schedule and always studying that, now that he’d relaxed, he didn’t feel relief—only emptiness.
Empty enough that… he actually felt like doing a math exam paper.
Cursing himself for the absurd thought, he shook his head to clear it and was about to start the next game when Bo Jin’s message popped up.
[Bo]: Noticed you seemed down earlier. What’s wrong?
[Bo]: Scored so well, but not happy? Are your standards really that high, little classmate?
Staring at the message, Xie Ruan was surprised. He hadn’t mentioned anything to anyone, but Bo Jin had somehow picked up on it.
Xie Ruan wasn’t used to sharing his feelings with others, but since Bo Jin showed such concern, it felt wrong to brush him off with a casual excuse. After hesitating for a moment, he pretended to respond lightly.
[Your Bro Xie]: Oh, nothing major, my mom just scolded me a bit.
Bo Jin had run through countless possible reasons in his mind, but hadn’t anticipated this one. Chuckling, he figured he couldn’t help much with this particular issue, so he decided to lighten the mood instead.
With a smile, he stretched his long legs on the chair and typed.
[Bo]: Why would someone as well-behaved as you get scolded?
Xie Ruan choked, angrily jabbing at the screen as if trying to send his frustration straight through.
[Your Bro Xie]: Talk properly! Don’t describe me like that!
The exclamation mark showed he really cared about this. Bo Jin held back his laughter and pressed on.
[Bo]: Then what word should I use? Little Pretty?
[Bo]: It suits you well.
This jerk!
Xie Ruan’s ears turned red instantly. Gritting his teeth, he rolled up his sleeves, ready to unleash his keyboard warrior skills, when Song Xinghe suddenly leaned over. “Who are you chatting with so intensely? Come on, let’s get ready for that game raid.”
Xie Ruan: “…”
He was so annoyed he’d nearly forgotten about it.
Taking a deep breath, he decided to let it slide this time—games were more important. Generously, he decided to give Bo Jin a pass.
He found a universal excuse.
[Your Bro Xie]: Can’t talk, going to shower.
From years of chatting experience, Xie Ruan knew this was one of the best ways to end a conversation. Usually, when you said this, no matter how much more the other person wanted to say, they’d hold back.
However, he forgot that Bo Jin wasn’t like most people—he had no concept of personal boundaries.
Seeing the message, Bo Jin chuckled.
Trying to slip away? Not a chance.
He leaned against the bed rail and tapped a few times on his screen.
A few seconds later, Xie Ruan received a new message—
[Bo]: Got it, hard to type? Let’s do a video call, then.
Xie Ruan’s hand shook, and his phone slipped onto the keyboard, knocking off a keycap.
He couldn’t understand how someone could be this shameless, taking every opportunity to tease without regard for time or place.
Bending down, he picked up his phone, locked the screen in frustration, and ignored Bo Jin. Still not satisfied, he opened his messenger app and directly muted Bo Jin’s messages.
Only then did he put on his headphones and focus on the game, spurred on by Song Xinghe’s urging.
Bo Jin wasn’t surprised when he didn’t get a reply. His deskmate was too thin-skinned; this was expected.
Glancing at his watch, Bo Jin noted that lights-out was in fifteen minutes, plenty of time to check if his overly-proud little friend was feeling any better.
Grabbing his dorm key, he casually headed upstairs.
The fourth and fifth floors were both home to junior year students, and everyone knew Bo Jin. Seeing him appear on the fifth floor made heads turn, with curious glances sneaking in his direction to see what he was up to.
Bo Jin was long used to the attention and didn’t mind. He nodded at a few who greeted him, then knocked on Xie Ruan’s door. “Xie Ruan, open up.”
No answer.
Bo Jin chuckled, assuming Xie Ruan was sulking over their recent exchange and knocked patiently a couple more times.
Still no answer.
Something felt off. Although Xie Ruan was proud, he wasn’t the type to stubbornly ignore someone when he was clearly inside.
Recalling how unusual he’d been acting tonight, Bo Jin put manners aside and bent down slightly to peer through the small window in the door.
What he saw made him laugh out loud.
On Xie Ruan’s bed, the blanket was carefully spread out, with a lump in the middle that looked convincingly like a person. But Bo Jin, being a student himself, knew this trick too well—it was probably just clothes or a pillow underneath, not a person.
Well then, Bo Jin smiled.
Skipping school and lying about it? Bold move.
To avoid catching the attention of the dorm supervisor, Bo Jin left without lingering and headed downstairs, pulling out his phone as he walked.
Soon, Sun Haoxiang and the others received a message in the group chat.
[Bo]: Anyone got Song Xinghe’s contact?
[He Mingjie]: Yep, hang on, I’ll look for it and send it over.
[After repeatedly turning down the school beauty, Sun Haoxiang]: I have it too.
[He Mingjie]: Need something from him? Why not ask Xie Ruan?
[He Mingjie]: Oh, wait, I remember—he’s not at school tonight. Is it urgent?
Bo Jin paused and typed back.
[Bo]: Where did he go?
Since he and Song Xinghe had similar outgoing personalities, He Mingjie and Song Xinghe had hit it off quickly after hanging out a few times, gaming and playing basketball together until they became close and chatted daily.
Seeing Bo Jin’s reply, He Mingjie typed back quickly.
[He Mingjie]: He’s skipping school to play games all night, hahaha.
[He Mingjie]: I heard they’re staying out all night. I’d be too scared to do that—if my grades slip on the next exam, my dad would kill me.
Bo Jin raised an eyebrow. So, Xie Ruan was off gaming with Song Xinghe?
He’d seen Xie Ruan’s dedication to studying this past month, knowing he wasn’t the type to slack off. When he decided to study, he wouldn’t quit halfway.
Looks like he’d had a rough time with his mom and just needed to blow off some steam.
Just then, Sun Haoxiang chimed in.
[After repeatedly turning down the school beauty, Sun Haoxiang]: The kids from Class 11 are pretty daring—sneaking out at a time like this?
[He Mingjie]: What do you mean, sneaking out?
[After repeatedly turning down the school beauty, Sun Haoxiang]: We were talking in our group, and Director Zhao has been cracking down on students sneaking out to game lately. He’s been checking the internet cafes every day. No one dares to go out anymore—they’ve all been on their best behavior recently.
[After repeatedly turning down the school beauty, Sun Haoxiang]: Song Xinghe must have guts, though. No wonder he’s friends with Little Xie.
Being a self-professed academic slacker, Sun Haoxiang might not have much else, but he’s certainly in plenty of school groups, which means he gets all sorts of insider news.
[He Mingjie]: D*mn, why didn’t you say so earlier? I’ll message him to warn him.
[After repeatedly turning down the school beauty, Sun Haoxiang]: You didn’t ask.
Bo Jin was just about to head back to the dorm, figuring he’d have plenty of chances to give Xie Ruan a talking-to, but seeing Sun Haoxiang’s message, he changed direction and checked back into the group.
[Bo]: Which internet cafe is he at?
[He Mingjie]: Supersonic.
[He Mingjie]: What’s up, Brother Bo? Are you going to find him? Want me to let him know?
Bo Jin replied, “No need, don’t tell him,” and put his phone away, heading out of the dorm building.
Supersonic was a recently opened internet cafe near the school, known for its nice environment. Though Bo Jin had never been, he’d walked by it a few times and knew where it was.
Following his memory, he turned a corner, passed the street with all the food stalls, and soon saw the internet cafe’s sign. Without a second thought, he pushed the door open and went inside.
This area was packed with schools, including their high school and a top provincial one, plus a few vocational schools. So, at this time of night, the cafe was bustling, filled with the clatter of keyboards and occasional, heated shouts from gamers.
The front desk girl had been busy all night, and her patience was wearing thin. Hearing the door open, she looked up wearily. “Booth or pri—”
Her words stopped abruptly when she saw Bo Jin’s face.
Oh my god, as if one handsome guy wasn’t enough, here’s another one!
What are high school boys eating these days to turn out this good-looking?!
“Excuse me,” Bo Jin smiled at her. “I’m looking for someone.”
“Huh? Oh…” The front desk girl, flustered by his smile, softened her tone immediately. “Sure, who are you looking for? I can check for you.”
Bo Jin gratefully accepted her help and gave Xie Ruan’s name.
After a few clicks on her computer, the girl was surprised to find that this handsome guy was looking for yet another handsome guy. Of course, handsome people always hang out together.
“Is it this person?” She turned the computer screen towards Bo Jin, showing him Xie Ruan’s details. “He’s at booth C25.”
Bo Jin glanced at the screen, pausing when he noticed Xie Ruan’s ID number.
So Xie Ruan was already eighteen.
Typically, students are seventeen in their second year of high school. Bo Jin himself was nineteen due to special circumstances, but what was Xie Ruan’s reason?
Though his mind briefly wandered with possibilities, Bo Jin’s face betrayed nothing. Thanking the front desk once more, he headed toward booth C25.
“Amateur!” Xie Ruan shouted, throwing his mouse down in frustration.
They were in the middle of a team battle, on the verge of taking down the big boss, but a teammate’s mistake cost them two players. There was no hope of winning now.
After half an hour of hard work, it all went down the drain. Even a saint would be fuming.
Song Xinghe was even angrier, his fingers flying over the keyboard as he cursed passionately in-game.
Then a voice cut in, “Who’s the amateur?”
Still seething with anger, Xie Ruan snapped without thinking, “The other team!”
“Oh?” the voice continued. “What makes them amateurs? Explain in detail.”
Annoyed, Xie Ruan turned his head. “Who the h*ll are you—?”
He froze, his anger quickly turning to guilt. “Why… why are you here?”
“Weren’t you going to shower?” Bo Jin leaned casually on the table, giving him a mischievous look. “Here to shower at the internet café? How’d you do it? Care to show me?”
Of course, this guy couldn’t say anything decent!
Caught between embarrassment and guilt, Xie Ruan yanked off his headset, dropping it onto the table. “Can you be serious?”
“What am I doing that’s not serious?” Bo Jin looked surprised. “Weren’t you the one who told me you were going to shower?” He took out his phone, pretending to scroll to their conversation. “Kidding aside, the evidence is right here.”
Before he could move his finger, Xie Ruan quickly pressed down on his hand.
“What’s wrong?” Bo Jin, the old rascal, continued feigning innocence. “Maybe I remembered wrong. Better to double-check, right?”
Xie Ruan: “…”
There’s no way you’d forget something like this, considering you remember every test answer!
He wanted to block Bo Jin’s mouth. But Bo Jin had gone out of his way to help him improve his scores, writing notes and creating practice problems, putting in so much effort. And here he was, sneaking out to play games. He just didn’t have the face to lie.
“I…” Xie Ruan licked his lips, closed his eyes, and with a little desperation, admitted, “I was wrong.”
D*mn!
Song Xinghe, eavesdropping nearby, was so shocked he almost dropped his snacks. Where was the rebellious Xie Ruan who feared nothing? Why did he suddenly turn into a pushover around Bo Jin?
Something wasn’t right! There was definitely something going on!
Song Xinghe quietly took off his headphones and leaned in to listen.
Bo Jin looked at Xie Ruan’s slightly flushed ears and wondered if he was doing this on purpose—acting all soft and vulnerable just to make him go easy…
Suppressing the urge to pinch him, Bo Jin asked nonchalantly, “What were you wrong about?”
Still not done, huh?
Knowing he was in the wrong, Xie Ruan swallowed his temper. “I shouldn’t have snuck out…” Fearing Bo Jin might ask more, he quickly added, “I swear this is the last time; I’ll never do it again.”
“Wrong.” Bo Jin couldn’t hold back any longer and reached out to ruffle his hair.
What did he do wrong? Wasn’t that the perfect answer? Even Director Zhao would call it professional.
D*mn, was this guy purposely messing with him?
Xie Ruan narrowed his eyes, his expression immediately darkening. Just as he was about to ask what Bo Jin meant, Bo Jin shamelessly replied, “Skipping curfew isn’t the issue, lying to me is.”
Xie Ruan: “…”
He swatted Bo Jin’s hand away. “Get real…”
Before he could finish his sentence, Song Xinghe’s panicked voice came from beside them: “Quick! Hide! My friend said Director Zhao’s here!” With that, he turned off his computer and ran.
Xie Ruan hadn’t even processed what was happening before he found himself crouched down and sprinting to the restroom, closing the door behind him with practiced ease.
Xie Ruan stood there frozen, unsure where to go.
Then suddenly, he felt an arm around his waist, and in the next second, Bo Jin pulled him behind the curtains near the air conditioner.
This internet café had a tall standing air conditioner, with a narrow space behind it for storing cleaning supplies, usually concealed by a curtain.
The space was so tight that the two tall boys had to press close together just to fit in.
Xie Ruan’s mouth went dry, and he held his breath instinctively, worried Director Zhao would find them. He didn’t even notice how close he and Bo Jin were standing.
From outside, Director Zhao’s stern reprimands could be heard; it was clear some students had been caught.
Xie Ruan’s heart pounded faster, and his breathing quickened.
Would they get caught? What would he do if they were? Why did he even think running out to play games was a good idea?!
Just as his anxiety peaked, Bo Jin leaned close to his ear and whispered with a chuckle, “You know… doesn’t this look like we’re having a love affair?”
Xie Ruan: “???”
The tense atmosphere disappeared instantly. Shocked, Xie Ruan looked up. “What did you say?”
“I said,” Bo Jin replied, his arm around Xie Ruan’s waist, pulling him closer. His voice was low and flirtatious, “here we are, in an internet café, behind a curtain, with someone right outside. Classic mischief.”
This guy, seriously!
Xie Ruan’s face flushed. He didn’t want to move too much for fear of Director Zhao noticing, but he was irritated. Finally, he pinched Bo Jin’s waist hard. “Can you please sto… sto…”
He paused, suddenly stuck.
He wanted to say, Can you stop flirting with me? but the word felt too intimate. Teasing felt off too. So he ended up stuttering.
They were so close that Xie Ruan’s warm breath brushed against Bo Jin’s chin, igniting a wave of heat that spread throughout him.
Bo Jin looked down, his breathing a little heavier. “What? Stop what?”
His gaze was intense, like a predator fixating on prey, making Xie Ruan feel uneasy. He tried to turn his head away slightly, but Bo Jin grabbed the back of his head and gently turned him back.
“Stop what?” Bo Jin asked again, though it was clear he didn’t expect an answer. He smirked and whispered, “Wife?”
