Would the male lead really make it into high school at this rate? In her final year of junior high, Song Fu genuinely worried about this. Although there was no need to fret over Ci Ye’s future, from the plotline’s perspective, if he didn’t get into high school, everything that followed couldn’t unfold—
Fortunately, there was someone else who worried just like Song Fu—Ci Ye’s father.
His concern stemmed not from his child’s prospects, but from his own reputation. It would sound awful if his only son failed to even enter high school.
Thus, during the third year of junior high, Father Ci outright forbade Ci Ye from going to school. Instead, he arranged full-time tutoring at home for him, from morning till night, Monday through Sunday. He confiscated all electronic devices by force. If Ci Ye wanted a break, his scores on those practice sheets had to improve. The cost of even one month of tutoring ran into five figures. Although they lived right next door, Song Fu didn’t see him for a while.
“It was about time to tighten the reins.”
Mother Song had long disapproved of Ci Ye’s lazy demeanor. The first time she attended a parent-teacher conference and heard that Ci Ye ranked dead last, her mouth hung open for ages. She had wanted to give him a stern talking-to right then. Unfortunately, as a neighbor with no blood ties, she couldn’t really interfere.
Song Fu had just finished a mini monthly exam and returned home. She curled up on the sofa watching TV, but her mind had already wandered off somewhere.
Father Song noticed and figured his daughter was replaying where she might have gone wrong on the exam. His precious girl was usually so steady, almost unfazed even if Mount Tai collapsed right in front of her, but she cared too much about her grades.
He remembered when Fu Fu was in fifth grade, she fell ill right before midterms. As adults, they hadn’t minded much and thought about skipping it so she could rest properly. But Fu Fu refused. She packed her bag and insisted on going, saying she had to take first place. “Rankings don’t matter; what matters is whether you’ve learned something.”
Song Fu snapped back to reality and let out a heavy “Mm,” looking utterly convinced. “Exactly, that’s the principle!”
But saying this to her was pointless. She should tell the System that.
Father Song: “…” Had she taken it in, or not?
The junior high Song Fu attended was a boarding school where students went home once a week, from Saturday morning to Sunday evening.
Song Fu’s birthday happened to fall on a Wednesday, so Mother Song arranged to pick her up that evening as well.
Song Fu properly ate cake, made a wish, and even took photos.
However, “This photo’s missing someone,” Father Song remarked with a sigh.
No need to say it—Song Fu knew he meant Ci Ye. “He’s probably busy studying,” she said, although it was forced upon him.
When bedtime rolled around, Song Fu didn’t linger downstairs. Back in her room, she planned to first check on the succulents she kept on the balcony.
She had just pulled open the door, not even taken a step out, when she heard—
“Ahem.” Two very deliberate coughs, clearly meant to announce his presence.
Her gaze landed there, followed by, “Happy birthday!”
The blessing came from Ci Ye, standing on the opposite balcony. The teen had shot up fast, like a bamboo shoot sprouting—tall with long legs. He wore a simple white T-shirt, his pure black, slightly curly hair swaying in the wind. His slightly upturned phoenix eyes curved in a smile, corners of his mouth lifted, full of bright, unrestrained cheer.
Song Fu froze. “Thanks?” It was quite the surprise. “What a coincidence.”
Ci Ye let out a “Ha?” “What do you mean? I’ve been standing here waiting ever since you got picked up, okay? I didn’t even dare eat dinner.” Afraid he’d miss the chance to see her and deliver this year’s birthday wishes.
“Really?” Song Fu felt a little touched and thanked him again. “What if I hadn’t come to the balcony?”
Ci Ye pursed his lips. “Then I’d be out of luck and owe you a birthday wish.”
Song Fu chuckled and reminded him to study hard, only to get called heartless in return.
“You didn’t even come see me once!”
“Aren’t you in closed-door studying? I heard from Wang Qi that even when he came looking for you, he couldn’t get in the door.”
“That’s different! You’re not some shady friend. If the top student in school came to see me, my dad would beg you to.” Ci Ye couldn’t help grumbling. “I told him today was your birthday and I’d go celebrate, but he insisted on having someone make me do those damn practice sheets. Said total score under five hundred won’t cut it. I worked on them all day, head spinning, and when I calculated—short by just three points. Over those three points, he wouldn’t let me out.”
Ci Ye’s resentment practically overflowed as he patted the little wooden table beside him, huffing again and again.
“Birthday gift later, okay? I can’t get my phone.” He negotiated. “What’s your birthday wish? Tell me, and I’ll see if I can help make it happen.”
Song Fu didn’t hold back. “My wish is to steadily hold first place this year too.”
Ci Ye didn’t know what to say. “I remember your wish last year was the same. Can’t you want something else?” He couldn’t help at all. “Your wish next year won’t be first place too, will it?”
Song Fu’s eyes curved, her amber pupils reflecting the light as she countered, “How did you know?”
…
The gift Ci Ye gave was a thermos cup. In the end, he smoothly got into high school too. Foreseeing that Ci Ye would be a handful, the Ci family directly donated a building to the school and conveniently arranged for him and Song Fu to be in the same class.
Ci Ye had thought Song Fu’s birthday wish would remain taking first place until the end of her school days. But in the second semester of sophomore year, when he casually asked again, her wish had turned into something even more vague.
The girl spoke lightly, “Hope everything goes smoothly.”
As if some major event was about to happen, but wasn’t the College Entrance Exam still a ways off?
Song Fu wasn’t just saying it casually. She meant it because she wouldn’t be taking first place much longer.
The female protagonist’s official debut loomed right around the corner—
In the scorching summer, cicadas crawled out of the soil and screeched. Classmates by the windows pulled the curtains tight, afraid of the blinding sunlight, acting more vampire-like than vampires, even with that faint aura of death about them.
A weekly exam had just wrapped up, and the scores were tallied and posted by the blackboard. “Song Fu, you’re first again—by a landslide. Can I see your answer sheet later?”
The girl whose name was called looked up, a faint smile on her clear, pretty face. “Sure.”
“It’d be weird if Song Fu wasn’t first.” Her desk mate propped her cheek. “Hold on, the homeroom teacher must’ve already photocopied Fu Fu’s answer sheet. It’ll be handed out soon as a model for everyone.”
Speak of the devil. The class committee member returned from the teacher’s office with materials. She had just sat down when she dropped a bombshell. “Seems like our class is getting a transfer student. Heard her scores are amazing—a girl, name was something like…”
“Zhu Chenxi.”
“My name is Zhu Chenxi. Please take care of me.”
Just as the committee member said, the bright girl introduced herself on the podium and became a student in Class A of sophomore year.
Song Fu’s gaze fell over and caught the first line in the info box above Zhu Chenxi’s head: Female Lead.
With the female lead’s arrival, the plot was about to officially begin. Pathetic as it was, Song Fu patted her chest and recalled the relevant plot points again.
“You can sit there for now, okay?” The homeroom teacher pointed awkwardly at an empty seat in the back row and explained. “In our class, seats get rearranged once a month based on scores. You’ll pick according to ranking then. It’s soon—just tough it out for these couple weeks.”
Zhu Chenxi nodded in understanding, her gaze landing on the fiery red head next to the empty seat, sprawled on the desk.
Right—in such a strict, study-obsessed school and class, there was actually a red-haired head that stood out completely among the black hair, like a little flame sprouting from a pile of coal.
Song Fu remembered Ci Ye had dyed his hair red two months ago, for a ridiculous reason: because she had mistaken someone’s back for his that day.
Blame the crowd being too dense!
Song Fu asked the System: ‘Do you think this red hair will affect the female lead’s first impression of the male lead?’ The homeroom teacher and even the dean had warned him countless times, but he just wouldn’t listen.
[No way.] The System’s mechanical voice was full of doubt.
“Everyone, get along well from now on.”
The class watched the transfer student take her seat but soon looked away—one, because staring was rude; two, they didn’t have spare attention for her with wrong questions still uncorrected.
Song Fu glanced a bit longer. She didn’t have many mistakes and wanted to know when the “noble” male lead would lift his head and notice his new desk mate.
“Xiao Liu, did you hand out all the materials I gave you?” the homeroom teacher asked.
The committee member nodded. “All handed out.”
The teacher looked at his star pupil and teased, “Song Fu, this new classmate’s scores are pretty good. She was always first at her old school too. You should feel some pressure.”
“Got it.” Song Fu turned her head, briefly meeting eyes with Zhu Chenxi in the back. She didn’t seem truly concerned.
That was the side character’s setup—always first, a bit arrogant and confident, not taking the female lead seriously at first. But Song Fu’s nonchalance came from knowing she wouldn’t—and absolutely couldn’t—keep taking first.
“Alright, class time. Take out the test you just finished; I’ll go over it.” The teacher had just cleared his throat and shaken the papers when he noticed the transfer student’s predicament. She hadn’t taken the test, so no paper, and her desk mate Ci Ye, fast asleep, was no help.
He was about to have someone lend her a copy when he saw the transfer student nudge the guy next to her awake.
“Who’re you?” The teen’s lowered voice was husky with irritation, brows furrowed.
The teacher explained for her. “New transfer student. Ci Ye, hand over a test paper. Share with your new classmate.”
“I’m Zhu Chenxi.”
The girl smiled as she gave her name. “Your new desk mate.”
The groggy boy with bedhead temper drooped his lashes, showing no intention of introducing himself.