Sheng Xia felt a bit at a loss.
The place called a dressing room was actually a repurposed dispatch office, with just a few desks and chairs. The changing area was originally the bedroom for on-duty staff. The space wasn’t large to begin with, and now it was packed with people. The desks and chairs were already covered with cosmetics, and the floor was strewn with dresses—layers of tulle and petticoats scattered everywhere, making it almost impossible to walk.
Sheng Xia had never been good at socializing, and with Fu Jie yet to arrive, she had no idea how to break the ice under the curious gazes of over a dozen people.
Subconsciously, she turned to look at Zhang Shu, unaware of the plea in her eyes.
Zhang Shu sighed inwardly. She should really look in a mirror—who could resist those pitiful puppy eyes? If anyone could, he’d call them grandpa.
"Wait over there," he said, gently guiding her shoulder to the side. He pulled the door handle behind her waist and stepped around to examine something on the back of the door. Suddenly, he walked over to one of the desks, shoving the clutter aside to reveal a number in the corner: 6.
Zhang Shu turned back and asked the room, "Whose stuff is this?"
People exchanged glances, shaking their heads.
"Take it away. This desk belongs to Class Six," Zhang Shu said. Tall enough to nearly touch the low ceiling of the dispatch room, his indifferent tone carried an air of superiority.
The previously noisy Room 105 fell silent.
Just as the tension peaked, the changing room door opened, revealing a figure in an ethereal beige tulle dress. The high, cinched waist accentuated her slender figure, complemented by chestnut curls and a radiant face—youthful and striking.
"Ah Shu? What are you doing here?" Chen Mengyao’s eyes lit up as she lifted her skirt and approached.
"Escorting our goddess here," Zhang Shu replied, turning slightly and stepping back to point at Desk 6. "Is that your stuff?"
Chen Mengyao followed his finger and nodded. "Yeah."
It was then, in that direction, that she noticed Sheng Xia.
A girl she’d noticed many times before—the transfer student in Class Six, Zhang Shu’s deskmate, the one who’d taken Zhou Xuanxuan’s spot as the banner goddess.
Every time this girl passed Class Four to get water, a few boys would inevitably call out, "Hey, the one from Class Six!" or "Look!" as if spotting some rare panda.
Sheng Xia’s arms stiffened around the box she was holding—whether from carrying it too long or from his words, "our goddess." Though the term was commonly used, she hadn’t fully acclimated to the culture yet, leaving her slightly uneasy.
"You don’t have your own desk?" Zhang Shu glanced at the equally cluttered desks nearby and chuckled, his tone ambiguous—mocking or resigned, as was his usual careless demeanor. "Didn’t you see the schedule on the back of the door?"
Chen Mengyao blinked. "What schedule?"
Zhang Shu didn’t elaborate. "Doesn’t matter. Just move your stuff. We need the space."
Chen Mengyao suddenly pinched the pendant on her necklace and asked, "Ah Shu, does it look good?"
Zhang Shu took a step back, only now noticing her necklace—the same one he’d bought for Zhang Sujin. His brows lifted slightly. "Not bad."
Chen Mengyao then lifted her skirt, gesturing to her dress. "How about this?"
Zhang Shu urged, "Can’t even look. Just move. Your. Stuff."
"Zhang Shu, your mouth is a disease. Get it treated before it’s incurable," Chen Mengyao shot back, rolling her eyes before signaling to her two companions. "Go get it."The two people passing by were familiar to Sheng Xia—she had seen the girl when fetching water and going to the restroom—she was from Class Four. The other was a boy wearing makeup, likely not from the affiliated high school, resembling a makeup artist from a cosmetics counter.
As they walked past Zhang Shu, both seemed to hold their breath, not daring to make a sound.
Watching their familiar interaction from the side, Sheng Xia felt a hint of strangeness: Wasn’t Zhang Shu pursuing Chen Mengyao? Why did it seem like...
Was he this aloof even when chasing someone?
With the desk now clear, Zhang Shu set his things down and gave the girl standing obediently beside him a once-over. "Go ahead and do what you need to do, huh?"
Snapping out of her thoughts, Sheng Xia flushed with embarrassment at her wild assumptions. "Oh," she mumbled, hurriedly opening the dress box.
The moment she lifted the lid, her mind blanked!
The dress came with nipple covers, which must have been hidden beneath the fabric before. She hadn’t noticed them last time, but now, after being shuffled around, they lay blatantly on top.
Flesh-colored, silicone, two round patches.
Her eyes widened in shock, and she immediately slammed the box shut—but she knew it was too late. Zhang Shu stood right beside her. There was no way he hadn’t seen them.
She instinctively glanced at him, only for him to turn his head away just before their eyes could meet, his lashes fluttering unnaturally...
So obvious!
He’d seen them!
Could time just rewind? Even one minute would do!
Dear heavens!
Just bury her now!
Fu Jie arrived late, carrying a small suitcase. The sight of their teacher made everyone settle down, quietly preparing at their seats or whispering among themselves. Unaware of the awkward atmosphere, Fu Jie urged Sheng Xia, "Hurry and change! I thought you’d be done by now. We’re running out of time."
"Mm." Sheng Xia’s ears burned red. Too embarrassed to reopen the box properly, she clutched it tightly and hurried to the changing room.
Zhang Shu rubbed his nose, exchanged a few words with Fu Jie, then left to rejoin his class.
Sheng Xia couldn’t bring herself to look at the nipple covers again, but the strapless dress demanded it. She’d seen how it was done but never actually worn them herself—she had no idea how to put them on. The dress was heavy too, impossible to lift alone.
With no other choice, she peeked out and called for Fu Jie’s help.
As Fu Jie adjusted the strapless top for her, she clicked her tongue. "Sheng Xia, you’ve been hiding quite a lot, huh?"
Sheng Xia bowed her head in embarrassment.
Back in middle school, she’d noticed her rapid development, but at the time, girls with fuller chests often became gossip targets. Having no real concept of sizes—and with her petite frame, flat sternum, and lower bustline—loose clothing made her appear average, sparing her from the chatter. She’d always assumed she was on the smaller side.
It wasn’t until high school that she vaguely became aware of an aesthetic preference for fuller busts. When Tao Zhizhi asked her once, she’d replied offhandedly, "Oh, I’m just a C."
Tao Zhizhi had nearly lost it and playfully smacked her.
That was when Sheng Xia learned that C-cups weren’t common at their age—especially on someone with slender arms and a narrow waist. It made her proportions particularly rare.
The dress was exquisitely tailored, the strapless top snug without being revealing, though it undeniably accentuated the curves of her bust and waist.
With both her chest and back exposed, Sheng Xia felt utterly insecure.
When Fu Jie moved to pin up her hair, Sheng Xia softly requested, "Teacher, can I leave it down?"
Fu Jie understood her hesitation. "But with the tiara, an updo would suit it better, don’t you think?"
"Mmm..." Her voice wavered with unease.
"Alright, I’ll curl it and let it flow down." Fu Jie couldn’t resist indulging her. The girl never whined, but that pleading look was impossible to ignore.The student council members came to hurry them along, and everyone was busy making final adjustments.
Some still couldn’t help stealing glances at Sheng Xia through the mirror.
After the earlier "battle royale," everyone had silently started comparing Sheng Xia and Chen Mengyao in their minds.
There wasn’t much to compare with the others—today was clearly these two’s show.
……
The coordinator was urging them now. Sheng Xia only had time for a quick glance at her reflection in someone else’s mirror. She was still herself, not transformed into some unrecognizable version.
That was enough.
Leaving the dispatch room, she first went to the podium to collect her placard before returning to her class’s formation. Sheng Xia could feel the gazes following her—far more intense than during No. 2 High’s previous sports meets.
She told herself not to be timid. Everyone was dressed up today; there was no need to be overly nervous and embarrass her class. If she hadn’t been the one holding the placard today, wouldn’t she also be looking at the other girls with curiosity and admiration?
These looks were well-intentioned.
With that thought, when the camera swung her way, Sheng Xia followed the others’ lead and waved at the lens with a smile.
A burst of cheers suddenly rose from the field. Sheng Xia turned and saw the bright yellow block of Class Six waving enthusiastically at her, their "Bootleg Pastoral Poet" banner swaying.
Ah, the live broadcast on the big screen—they had all seen her.
"Hurry, who’s writing a shoutout to praise our goddess?!"
"She’s making us proud!"
"I’ll do it—angelic face, devilish figure!"
"Hahahaha, which announcer would dare read that out?"
Then, from the back of the group, came Fu Jie’s refined voice: "Graceful yet poised, shy yet composed, melancholic yet radiant."
"Teacher Fu, you’re amazing!"
Fu Jie smirked. "Of course. You guys are wild!"
"Giggle, giggle, giggle..."
Sheng Xia crossed the track to rejoin Class Six’s formation.
Chen Mengyao and Class Five’s goddess walked ahead of her. The latter nearly twisted her ankle—likely struggling with stiletto heels on the rubberized track. Chen Mengyao, however, wore similarly tall stilettos, easily over ten centimeters, yet strode as if flying. A future star indeed.
Sheng Xia was grateful her own shoes had thicker heels—comfortable and track-friendly. Her long dress hid most of them anyway.
Zou Weiping had thought of everything.
From shoe size to dress fit, even the adhesive bra… everything was perfect. Sheng Xia hadn’t interacted much with her, so she had no idea how Zou knew her measurements so well. She must have researched the attire of previous flag-bearers at the affiliated high school’s sports meets. A quick glance around confirmed it—most wore strapless or spaghetti-strapped dresses, all quite glamorous. With her hair down, Sheng Xia was already on the conservative side.
As she rejoined her class, Class Six’s formation erupted in cheers again, drawing curious looks from nearby classes.
Sheng Xia’s "Hepburn" look today was elegant and grand, standing out uniquely. Her earth-toned eye makeup, free of glittery shadows, paired perfectly with bold, dark brows, giving her a vibrant glow.
The masterstroke was the dried rose lip tint—forgoing the classic "black dress with red lips" to leave her face balanced, avoiding overkill while complementing her naturally cool demeanor.
Like pristine white jasmine, or an elegant black swan.
Xin Xiaohe wove through the ranks from the back and whispered in Sheng Xia’s ear, "You’ve won, babe!"
Up on the stage, the chairperson had begun their speech. Xiao He ducked back to her spot after speaking, flashing Sheng Xia a heart sign.Sheng Xia was amused by her, but just as she was about to turn around, she spotted Zhang Shu standing tall at the very end.
He had one hand in his pocket as he chatted with Hou Junqi beside him, but his eyes were fixed in her direction, making him seem distracted.
Hou Junqi was laughing so hard he could barely speak—clearly, they weren’t discussing anything serious.
Yet Zhang Shu’s brows were tightly furrowed, his expression dark.
Like he was out for blood.
Sheng Xia instinctively shrank back and turned away.
After several rounds of speeches from the school leaders, the big screen began showcasing close-ups of each class formation. When it was Class 4 of Grade 12, the crowd erupted in cheers. Then, when it shifted to Class 5, silence fell. By the time it landed on Class 6, the noise surged again, with people whispering in twos and threes. The speaker on stage, startled by the sudden "enthusiasm," paused mid-sentence and glanced at the screen, baffled.
"If Chen Mengyao is the dazzling, MV-ready visual of a girl group, then Sheng Xia is the poised, high-class young actress heading to an awards ceremony," Xin Xiaohe mused, stroking her chin with admiration.
"Spot on," her roommate agreed.
Zhou Xuanxuan muttered, "That might be a bit much."
As if deliberately stirring things up, the screen lingered on Class 6 for at least five extra seconds.
Sandwiched between Classes 4 and 6, Class 5’s formation kept looking left and right in eerie unison, creating a bizarrely comical scene.
The final segment of the opening ceremony was the class formations marching past the grandstand before returning to their designated seating areas. As seniors, Grade 12 was given priority—something Sheng Xia hadn’t expected, since at No. 2 High School, they usually started with the freshmen.
This arrangement was great; it meant they wouldn’t have to stand for too long.
Just as Xin Xiaohe had predicted, the parade in front of the grandstand was a spectacle—whistling, singing, shouting class slogans, someone cosplaying Ultraman fighting monsters, and even a class performing "chest-crushing boulders." The formations passed by in a rowdy, jubilant procession.
The banners were equally flamboyant.
In comparison, Class 6’s Pikachu theme seemed downright modest, chosen mainly to match their class uniforms.
"Now approaching us are the seniors of Class 6, Grade 12. Under the guidance of their pastoral poet, they uphold the philosophy of embracing nature and enjoying their final year with gusto..."
Sheng Xia, who had been holding the class sign steadily, nearly tripped from laughing at the absurd introduction. Unable to help herself, she lowered her head with a quiet chuckle—captured perfectly by the camera, her restrained elegance radiating warmth and charm.
From the sidelines, a loud voice from the waiting formations shouted, "The senior sister is so beautiful!""
A chorus of teasing followed.
Sheng Xia kept her gaze forward, appearing composed, though a closer look would reveal her ears burning red. Her heart pounded, making the few hundred meters feel endless.
"The senior sister belongs to the senior brother!" Cry about it!" Sheng Xia heard a booming retort from behind her.
Wait, was that Hou Junqi talking?
Wasn’t he inside the Pikachu costume? Where was the self-awareness of a mascot?!
Without turning, she heard an explosion of laughter from the crowd.
Turns out, the Pikachu had attempted a kick toward the waiting area, but its stubby legs couldn’t contain Hou Junqi’s long ones. The motion sent the costume tumbling face-first into the grass.
A flurry of hands rushed to pick it back up.
"Pikachu’s reputation is ruined!"
"Ugliest Pikachu ever—apologize now!"
Even the school leaders on the grandstand burst into laughter.
The back-and-forth banter pushed the atmosphere to its peak.
With a loud pop , fireworks burst into the sky, and the timed release of balloons soared upward in a dazzling array of colors.The azure sky was crystal clear, adorned with the vibrant hues of youth—bold and fervent.
Fu Jie and Lai Yilin sat on the bleachers beside the podium, sighing wistfully.
"We're getting old."
"Nonsense!"
"That's just how youth is."
"It's so good to be young."
So good indeed. Dashing in splendid attire, ablaze like roaring flames and blooming flowers—such is the finest flavor of life, the very essence of youthful brilliance.
OpenNovel