Lin Wanxing caught up with the main group after buying cigarettes. The students walked in fits and starts, taking turns carrying the boxes, and finally stopped on the top floor.
The motion-sensor light flickered on, revealing an iron gate blocking the stairwell.
The students were panting heavily. Lin Wanxing hurriedly pulled out her keys, but after a series of jangling attempts, none could open the gate.
Panic began to set in. She took out her phone, about to call the rental agent, when Wang Fa stepped forward.
If their earlier banter about "living together" at the stairwell entrance had seemed like playful teasing, then Wang Fa’s smooth motions—setting down his box, pulling out a key, and unlocking the iron gate—left the students utterly stunned.
Beyond the gate lay a rooftop.
Though only five stories high, the rooftop was expansive, with the night sky stretching unobstructed before them. In the distance, the basketball court lay immersed in darkness, dotted with lights along its edges. Further away stood the orderly buildings of the high school, their outlines softened by swaying trees. And beyond that, the city lights glowed brightly, scattering endlessly into the night.
The gentle autumn breeze brushed through her hair and against her neck. For a moment, Lin Wanxing was too captivated to speak.
It was only when the cardboard box thudded heavily onto the concrete rooftop that she snapped back to reality.
Wang Fa stood beside her, hand outstretched. Lin Wanxing handed him the freshly purchased cigarettes. Perhaps because the students were watching, he took the pack, turned it over in his hand, and tucked it back into his sportswear pocket.
"Ahem."
"Cough, cough."
The students exaggeratedly cleared their throats. The boys, flushed from carrying heavy loads, wore exaggerated expressions as they glanced between her and Wang Fa.
Two long rooms stood side by side on the southern end of the rooftop. The left one was lit, with a full set of outdoor parasols and beach chairs at the door. An opened beer can sat on the table—clearly belonging to her tenant.
Wang Fa showed no intention of heading inside. Instead, he walked straight to the parasol and sat down.
Yu Ming trotted eagerly after him. "Coach, do you really live with our teacher?"
Wang Fa took a casual sip from his beer can and said lightly, "I’m not sure. You’ll have to ask Teacher Lin for the official answer."
"Ooh~!"
As the students began to stir again, Lin Wanxing quickly raised her hands in surrender. She pulled out the jangling set of keys and headed to the door on the right. "Really, it’s nothing like that. Our school doesn’t provide housing for intern teachers, so I moved here. This is my home," Lin Wanxing emphasized.
"Then what about the coach? Is this his home too?" Chen Jianghe asked skeptically.
"He’s my tenant," Lin Wanxing said, pushing the door open and turning back to the students outside. "This building belongs to me."
Under the students’ stunned and speechless gazes, Lin Wanxing felt a thrill of "successful revenge."
—
The row of rooms on the rooftop had originally been an "illegal structure." However, it was said they’d already been there when her grandparents bought the building, so no one had ever bothered to remove them all these years.
The interior was clean—Lin Wanxing had asked the rental agency to clean in advance—but quite spartan. The students carried her boxes inside, curiously looking around.
"You’re living here?" Qi Liang asked with a hint of disdain. "If you’re so rich, why not rent a better place?"
Lin Wanxing set down her rolling suitcase and smiled. "Well, since you’re all so free, what brings you to my home?"
The abrupt shift caught the students off guard.
Before they could react, Lin Wanxing walked out of the room, dragged a chair to sit opposite Wang Fa, and gestured for them to "confess and be lenient, resist and be severe."
The students exchanged glances, and eventually, all eyes settled on Fu Xinshu.
Lin Wanxing was surprised. Was Fu Xinshu the ringleader of this mischief?
Then, Fu Xinshu pulled a workbook from his backpack. He flipped to a specific page, smoothed it out, and placed it in front of her.
Fu Xinshu said, "I found this while doing homework today."
On the opened math workbook was a hand-drawn map. Under the indoor light, she could make out crooked colored lines.
The map was drawn over a trigonometry problem, with the x and y axes serving as perfect coordinates. It was sketched with common colored markers. Though casually drawn, it clearly labeled "Hongjing No. 8 Middle School," "Old Sports Field," and the building they were in—"7 Wutong Road."
"7 Wutong Road" was depicted as a multi-level treasure chest, but the floor marked with treasure wasn’t the rooftop—it was the second floor.
Vague memories surfaced in Lin Wanxing’s mind. She stared at Fu Xinshu in disbelief. "Who gave this to you?"
"I don’t know," Fu Xinshu paused. "But then I wondered if it might be similar to what Qin Ao and the others received."
"So you contacted Qin Ao and them?"
"Yeah."
Qi Liang looked bewildered, while Lin Wanxing found it all hard to believe.
She pulled out the heavy keyring from the agent again, found the keys labeled for the second floor according to their tags.
"Shall we go take a look?" she said.
—
The stairwell sensor light flickered on and off as they descended, as if traveling through a long corridor of memories.
Like the fifth floor, the second-floor landing was blocked by an iron gate of the same color. But unlike upstairs, when Lin Wanxing unlocked and pushed open the stairwell door, stale, dusty air washed over them.
Here, the students’ breathing and footsteps grew quieter.
Before them stretched a dim corridor. By the faint light from the stairwell, they could just make out terrazzo tiles and something posted on the walls, though the deeper end remained shrouded in darkness.
The students tiptoed around, searching for a light switch. Lin Wanxing took a few steps forward, felt for the switch in her memory, and with a soft click, the overhead fluorescent light flickered to life, illuminating the entire hallway.
The walls were lined with old bulletin boards. On either side of the corridor were two classrooms, their walls adorned with calligraphy, sketches, and even exemplary exam papers. At the far end of the hallway hung a sign.
It read—"Yuan Yuan After-School Tutoring Center."
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