November 4, 2025 — 12:23 pm

Chapter 8

Lin Ting was quite serious during class. Unlike Wen Lan, who spent the entire morning repeatedly taking chips from his drawer, stuffing them into his mouth, and then pretending to read while chewing carefully, minimizing any noise or movement. He didn’t realize that to the teacher on the podium, this was just blatant affectation.

Lin Ting glanced at him from the corner of his eye.

Wen Lan quickly received the signal and extended a hand, holding three chips.

No, buddy, is that what I meant? Do I look like someone who would sneak snacks during class? I’m a good student.

Seeing that Lin Ting wasn’t taking them, Wen Lan grew anxious, extending his hand further and shaking it.

While the teacher turned to write on the blackboard, Lin Ting quickly took the chips and popped them into his mouth.

If he didn’t do well on the next exam, he had Wen Lan to blame.

.

At noon, while eating in the school cafeteria, Wen Lan, accompanied by Wang Xingzhi, Song Mi, and about three to five other students who were his followers, marched towards the cafeteria and directly to the empty table where Lin Ting was sitting.

Before they went, Wen Lan specifically warned him, “You still remember that we’re supposed to beat each other up every time we see each other, right?”

“Then why are you dragging me to play dance machine?”

“Tsk, your brain clearly isn’t working well. If we were strangers, wouldn’t that give us away? There shouldn’t be any spies in our class, but who knows about other classes? So we have to pretend to be enemies. Enemies, you understand? For example, today at lunch, I see you eating alone in the cafeteria, so I bring a bunch of people to corner you. You can retort a few words, which I know you’re best at. Then after school, it’s the same. You walk towards the arcade, and I’ll bring them to follow you.” Wen Lan spoke animatedly next to Lin Ting’s seat.

Lin Ting really wanted to say that the person surnamed Ye probably wasn’t that childish. But seeing Wen Lan immersed in his own world, Lin Ting, acting on an inexplicable impulse, nodded, “Okay.”

So, when Lin Ting saw the group approaching, he openly greeted them, “Isn’t this our School Bully? Still able to eat after being beaten by me.”

“I don’t think you’re much better off. Your lips are split; can you drink soup without spilling?” Wen Lan skillfully retorted, as if worried that Boss Ye’s informants hadn’t heard. He deliberately raised his voice, glancing around before sitting down next to Lin Ting.

“Tone it down a bit, you’re overacting,” Lin Ting whispered.

Wen Lan’s reputation as the School Bully wasn’t for nothing. Soon, everyone in the cafeteria was whispering about the fight between the two. Lin Ting vaguely heard a few syllables about himself, but they were too fragmented to form a coherent sentence.

Until the people at the next table started discussing:

“…What’s going on? Is our School Bully going to change?”

“Anyway, I only recognize Wen Lan.”

“Me too, the School Bully and School Hunk can only be Wen Lan.”

“It’s okay if the School Hunk changes. That new transfer student is quite handsome; give him the School Hunk title…”

“How about this, next time there’s an election, we add a rule that one person can’t compete in multiple categories. Then they’ll each have one.”

Lin Ting heard every word. He nudged Wen Lan, “Hey.”

“Hey what? Have some manners, will you?” Wen Lan put down the shrimp he was about to eat and turned his head.

“Beating each other up every time we meet, what manners are we talking about?” Lin Ting reminded him, then paused before adding, “You’re quite popular, how did you manage that? Did you drug them?”

“I told you it’s charisma. Someone like you, with poison on your tongue, will never understand it,” Wen Lan said, waving a finger in front of him.

“Then why are you worried about informants in the school…” Lin Ting said.

“What if? I’m happy to. What’s it to you?” Wen Lan continued to pick up shrimp and eat, tossing him a smug chin.

Lin Ting shook his head and smiled, “Childish.”

.

When school ended, Lin Ting felt it was necessary to continue the act.

Lin Ting packed his bag first and left the school gate. Without looking back, he knew Wen Lan and his group were swaggering behind him.

After leaving the crowded area outside the school gate and turning onto a small path, the casual, scuffing footsteps of the group behind him, accompanied by a few unfriendly whistles, scared away the few passersby.

Tsk, overacting a bit.

When they reached the entrance of the arcade, where the owner was lounging, smoking and scrolling on his phone, Wen Lan spoke up:

“Yo, isn’t this Lin Ting? The Lin Ting who swore to beat me up every time he saw me! What a coincidence. How about we settle it on the dance machine?” His tone was extremely affected.

Lin Ting stopped, turned around, and gave a look that lacked acting but was full of genuine emotion: “I actually want to beat you up now. Forget the dance machine showdown, let’s go with fists.”

Wen Lan looked around, seemingly seeing no sign of Boss Ye. “Hurry up. Didn’t you brag about being able to play 14-star songs?”

“I didn’t brag; it’s true. But you… let’s practice the 6-star songs first, okay? Last time, I saw you got a B on the first two songs. When you get an S, then we can add stars one by one.”

“Okay, okay, I’ll listen to you. Come on, don’t dawdle.” With that, he pulled Lin Ting to exchange coins.

Wen Lan’s ability to play up to 6-star songs did have a foundation, but his movements were too stiff, causing him to react slowly due to muscle tension and overly large movements. Lin Ting taught him the steps and patterns while guiding him through several songs that he would have directly failed on his own. After three consecutive rounds, Lin Ting felt like he had shed a layer of skin.

It was more tiring than playing by himself. When he played alone, he usually didn’t think. If he started thinking halfway through, he would mess up.

But for these three rounds, his body had to play without thinking, and his mind had to pay attention to Wen Lan and be ready to debrief him. Fortunately, they were only playing 6 and 7-star songs; otherwise, he couldn’t guarantee he wouldn’t lead Wen Lan astray.

“Quick, go buy your Brother Lin a milk tea, and get me one too,” Wen Lan ordered Song Mi. “Where’s Wang Xingzhi?”

“Stomach ache, he’s in the restroom,” Song Mi said and ran off.

“Still ‘Brother Lin.’ By following you, I’ve gained a title too, haven’t I?” Lin Ting slumped onto a nearby sofa chair, panting. He laughed for a long time at the address “Brother Lin.” “How come I don’t think you have that much charisma? Tell me, are all the people at your school a bit stupid, easily fooled by you?”

Wen Lan also slumped onto a nearby chair, mustering all his strength to gesture a pinky finger at him. “You’re blind, aren’t you? How could you not see how handsome I am?”

“Maybe you look in the mirror too much every morning, so your threshold has increased. You just look okay to me.” Although Lin Ting said this, he had to admit that Wen Lan was quite good-looking. He had naturally superior bone structure, sharp and three-dimensional features, and a roguish aura that was well balanced by the refined air of a rich heir.

If his features were softer, his refinement would seem greasy. If his sharp features were paired with a fierce aura, he would seem too wicked and unrefined.

But Wen Lan’s appearance and temperament were all perfectly balanced, a rare combination.

Lin Ting suddenly wondered how his family had raised him to be like this, a second-generation rich kid.

“You old bastard, Lin Ting. I’ve never seen anyone as shameless as you,” Wen Lan laughed, reaching into his pocket, taking out a cigarette pack, and lighting one for himself. He then casually tossed the pack to Lin Ting.

As soon as he tossed it, he remembered.

“Oh right, you don’t smoke,” Wen Lan said, about to straighten up to retrieve the cigarette pack.

Lin Ting, lying on the chair as if boneless, looked at the cigarette pack that had fallen onto his lap. He reached out his right hand, picked it up, propped his elbow on the armrest, and tilted his head to examine it. “What’s so good about this stuff?”

“If you don’t smoke, give it back to me.” Wen Lan, unable to reach it, lay back down.

“Learn,” Lin Ting said as he took out a cigarette from the pack and tossed the rest back. “Lend me a light.”

“You old bastard, can you even do that?” Wen Lan made no move to give him a lighter, remaining reclined, his long legs stretched out straight. His well-defined fingers brought the cigarette butt to his lips, and he inhaled deeply, then slowly exhaled, his eyes becoming hazy and distant in the smoke.

Lin Ting tutted, got up, and went to get the lighter from him. Wen Lan didn’t stop him, letting him search his pockets for the lighter.

Zzzzz— The lighter’s flame flickered, and an orange halo jumped towards the white paper tube at Lin Ting’s lips.

“Huh?” Lin Ting tried a few times, then took the cigarette butt off his lips. “Why isn’t it lighting?”

Wen Lan, still lazily reclining on the chair, chuckled and shook his head. “You have to inhale.” He then stubbed out his own cigarette butt in the ashtray beside him and stood up.

Wen Lan’s fingers still retained the warmth from his exertion. As he took the cigarette butt from between Lin Ting’s fingers, a faint warmth was transmitted from their fingertips.

“Here, see? You have to inhale.” Wen Lan put the cigarette holder in his mouth, took the lighter from Lin Ting, and with a click, struck the flame. This time, it lit successfully.

Lin Ting took back the cigarette he had handed over. The end of the cigarette butt was already shaped from being bitten, and it was slightly moist. He held it, unsure whether to smoke it or not.

“You’re so fierce when you fight, biting people, yet you don’t smoke?” Wen Lan sized him up. “I find that hard to believe.”

“Because smoking kills you early,” Lin Ting thought for a moment, then raised his hand and placed the cigarette butt into Wen Lan’s mouth.

Wen Lan’s expression instantly shifted from amused teasing to stiff rigidity. “Lin Ting, you’re sick.”

.

Wang Xingzhi didn’t know what he had eaten that disagreed with him. By the time he returned, clutching his stomach and trembling, the three of them were already halfway through their milk tea.

“Here, yours. I specifically bought you hot milk,” Song Mi handed him an unopened carton of sweet milk from the table.

“Thanks,” Wang Xingzhi said, sitting down and clutching his stomach. He took a sip through the straw. “I told you there was something wrong with the seafood rice stall in our cafeteria. How many times have I run to the restroom this afternoon? Forget it, I’m not eating. You three go ahead.”

Hearing this, Lin Ting remembered he hadn’t eaten dinner yet. He didn’t know if it was because he had eaten too much at noon or if he subconsciously wanted to delay his return to the Gu family’s home, but he didn’t feel hungry.

Lin Ting took out his phone—7:35 PM. The message list was empty.