After the parade formation, Sheng Xia stood like a mascot, taking group photos with her classmates one after another, group after group, until her smile began to stiffen.
A giant Pikachu approached her, accompanied by the lean figure of Zhang Shu and his group of friends. The boys, each in their colorful class uniforms, were tall and carried themselves well, making them stand out even more.
When they reached Sheng Xia, Pikachu wiggled its hips from side to side, playfully bumping her with its tail while chirping, "Pika pika pikachu!" Then it turned around and said in a deep voice straining to sound cute, "Hey beautiful, care to take a photo with this adorable Pikachu?"
The exaggerated attempt at cuteness sent shivers down Sheng Xia's spine, but she couldn't help but laugh. Zhang Shu rolled his eyes, muttering, "Disgusting!"
Liu Huian chimed in, "Hou Junqi, have some shame!"
Wu Pengcheng sighed, "You should really stop talking. You're turning 'beauty and the Pikachu' into 'beauty and the beast.'"
Han Xiao encouraged, "Beautiful, reject him!"
Ignoring them, Pikachu continued, "You're just jealous!" It then sidled up to Sheng Xia and called out to Zhang Shu, "A-Shu, take our photo!"
The oversized costume accidentally stepped on the edge of her skirt, prompting Pikachu to hop back slightly, leaning in with just its upper body while playfully lifting one foot and bouncing. It would have been genuinely cute if not for the knowledge that Hou Junqi was inside.
Sheng Xia tilted her head closer as well.
Zhang Shu held up his phone, framing the shot. In the viewfinder, the girl stood gracefully, like a pristine jasmine bloom in an exquisite vase—more radiant than the moon, more dazzling than sunlight. That morning, seeing her by the classroom door, a line of poetry had inexplicably popped into his head: "Even the lotus pales beside her beauty."
What had Fu Jie said about her? Poised and serene, shy yet composed, melancholic yet luminous. Thinking of Fu Jie, the tune of "Jasmine Flower" echoed in his mind—"So fragrant, so white, praised by all. Let me pick you and give you to—"
Give what? What a useless lyric.
"A-Shu, did you take it yet?" Pikachu urged.
A click sounded. "Done," Zhang Shu said.
Pikachu wasn't satisfied. "Take a few more! What if I blinked?"
Zhang Shu smirked. "Who could even tell if you blinked?" You're just a blur anyway.
"Oh, right." Hou Junqi straightened up. "A-Shu, want me to take one of you?"
"No," Zhang Shu replied.
"Come on, why not? Let's take one together!" Han Xiao nudged him.
Liu Huian joined in, "Yeah, we want one too!"
Pikachu protested, "Don't you have your own class goddess? Why hog ours? Move along!"
"Hey, A-Shu hasn't even said anything. Why are you yapping?" Wu Pengcheng teased, glancing at Zhang Shu.
Sheng Xia was the most awkward of all. This group was always so rowdy, drawing attention wherever they went. Now even the campus reporters had turned their cameras their way.
Han Xiao grabbed Yang Linyu from the side and shoved Zhang Shu's phone into his hands. "Quick, take one of us!" The group huddled together, shouting, "Take a few!"
Zhang Shu was pushed so close to Sheng Xia that her delicate fragrance filled his senses. A fleeting dream flashed through his mind, and he subtly stepped back toward Hou Junqi. The sleeve of his T-shirt lightly brushed her shoulder, and she noticed his deliberate distance.
Yang Linyu, noticing Zhang Shu's overly serious expression, said, "A-Shu, smile a little?"Zhang Shu complied with an easy grace, the corners of his lips lifting in a practiced, perfunctory smile. Yang Linyu added, "Forget it, better not smile. You're turning a perfectly good idol drama into a horror flick—like some creep eyeing the goddess with ill intentions."
Zhang Shu: "..."
Sheng Xia: "..."
Several shutter sounds clicked before Yang Linyu handed the phone back to Zhang Shu. "Check if this works?"
Zhang Shu locked the phone and pocketed it without a glance at the photos. His gaze swept over the girl's stiffened smile as he asked Han Xiao and the others, "Planning to overstay your welcome in our class?"
"Leaving, leaving. It's boiling in here," Hou Junqi responded first, about to remove his headgear when Zhang Shu stopped him with a scolding tap. "Have some decency. Don't shatter the girls' fantasies."
Hou Junqi: "..."
The group had arrived in a whirlwind and departed just as swiftly.
Yang Linyu stayed behind to relay a message: "Xiao He's team went for practice. Asked me to tell you—just call if you need any help."
Sheng Xia nodded. "Got it."
Her eyes trailed across the track, following the retreating figures of Pikachu and the boys.
Since their morning encounter at the classroom door, it seemed he hadn't truly looked at her—not today's version of her, anyway.
...
After the photos, Sheng Xia decided to return to studying rather than stay for the ceremony. She headed alone to change out of her formal attire.
The stick propping open the changing room door was missing, leaving only a chair wedged against it.
She had just stepped out of her dress, still in disarray, when voices drifted in from outside.
"Are they blind? You're clearly prettier. Sheng Xia just had a nice outfit—a knockoff at that. The bootlicking is unreal. What's the deal? Even our homeroom teacher and Chinese teacher seem extra sycophantic around her! Same with our dorm mates. Makes zero sense."
Hearing her name in such unfriendly context, Sheng Xia froze mid-motion, hand hovering at the door.
The voice belonged to Zhou Xuanxuan.
A male voice chuckled derisively. "Her styling was bizarre anyway. No coherent theme, just a mismatched mess. Super tacky."
Likely the makeup artist.
Another girl chimed in, "New faces always get extra attention. No point comparing. Don't be upset, Xuanxuan. But Zhang Shu—what's his deal? I keep hearing rumors today that he's chasing Sheng Xia?"
"Chasing? Please," Zhou Xuanxuan scoffed. "Just stringing her along."
"But isn't he with our Mengyao...? Why flirt with someone else?"
Zhou Xuanxuan said, "Pfft. Couldn't land the queen, so he's rebelling. Teasing some innocent girl, getting off on her flustered reactions to feed his ego."
"Enough. Stop gossiping in front of me." Chen Mengyao's tone was icy.
Only then did Zhou Xuanxuan realize—based on today's styling, Chen Mengyao had been the innocent girl while Sheng Xia played the queen.
Backpedaling, she said, "Zhang Shu only brought Sheng Xia today to provoke you. You were still the real star of the event."
Chen Mengyao removed her tiara and jewelry, staring at the necklace she'd purchased herself, her gaze inscrutable. "Childish. Not that I care. Drop it."
She'd learned through Zhou Yingxiang that he'd commissioned an overseas purchase. At first, she thought it was for her—until she saw the price tag. She knew then it couldn't be. He'd never given her—or any girl—anything so extravagant.
But now, unease crept in. Who had received that necklace he bought? Sheng Xia?More people came in from outside, and the noise grew louder for a moment.
Sheng Xia leaned against the wall, her entire back stiff, her vision increasingly blurred. Only then did she realize tears were welling up in her eyes. She tilted her head back and carefully wiped away a glistening drop from the corner of her eye.
Her hand was ice-cold.
Someone knocked on the door. "Anyone in there?"
"Yeah," Sheng Xia responded. She fanned her face lightly, picked up the gown, and opened the door.
Outside was chaotic. The "goddesses" from each class were removing their makeup and accessories, searching everywhere for their belongings. Few noticed who emerged from the dressing room—except for the group near table number four.
Zhou Xuanxuan stared at Sheng Xia, dumbfounded, unsure if she had heard anything, given the room's decent soundproofing.
The guy and girl beside her were clearly stunned too, frozen in place.
Chen Mengyao was focused on removing her false eyelashes, but her gaze followed Sheng Xia's figure through the mirror—walking past without a glance, her expression unreadable, her slender frame exuding an unexpected sharpness.
It was a side of Sheng Xia no one usually saw—the girl who always walked with her head lowered.
"Sheng Xia?" Zhou Xuanxuan was the first to speak up, her tone tentative.
Sheng Xia was folding the gown. "Hmm?" She turned as if just noticing Zhou Xuanxuan, her eyes devoid of emotion, her voice calm and soft. "Xuanxuan, could you help me fold this?"
Zhou Xuanxuan exhaled in relief, forcing a smile as she stepped forward. "Sure!"
The skirt was voluminous. Sheng Xia held one side, Zhou Xuanxuan the other. As they smoothed it out, Sheng Xia leaned closer to reach, and at the nearest point, Zhou Xuanxuan heard her whisper, so faint only they could catch it: "Xuanxuan, are you... curious about me?"
Zhou Xuanxuan stiffened, a sudden chill running down her spine.
Before she could react, Sheng Xia plucked the fabric from her grip, handed the dress back, and repeated the folding motion. When they drew near again, Sheng Xia added, "Talking behind someone's back... the protagonist would never do that."
Zhou Xuanxuan mechanically complied. Sheng Xia didn’t look at her again.
The gown in her hands felt luxurious—velvet dense, embroidery intricate and three-dimensional, stitching meticulous. Even without seeing the original, Zhou Xuanxuan knew this wasn’t something rentable for six hundred yuan.
Once the dress was neatly folded into its box, Sheng Xia straightened and said to Zhou Xuanxuan, "If you have questions, you can ask me directly next time."
Her tone remained gentle. To bystanders, it sounded like casual conversation.
But Zhou Xuanxuan stood frozen—
Sheng Xia had heard. Every word. Maybe from the very beginning. She was making it clear: say it to her face.
And subtly throwing back that "you're the protagonist" remark.
Long after Sheng Xia left with her belongings, Zhou Xuanxuan didn’t move.
She couldn’t describe what she was feeling.
In her mind, someone like Sheng Xia—even if she overheard—would pretend she hadn’t, hide away to wipe her tears, return to class like nothing happened, never telling a soul, let alone confronting anyone outright.
Today, Sheng Xia had been like a cat suddenly unsheathing soft paws to reveal needle-sharp claws.
Those two sentences, upon reflection, weren’t particularly aggressive. If anyone else in class had said them, Zhou Xuanxuan wouldn’t have taken them seriously or found them cutting. But this was Sheng Xia.
The Sheng Xia who always walked with her head down?
The Sheng Xia who blushed if you looked at her twice?
Sheng Xia couldn’t describe what she was feeling either.The sorrow of being maliciously slandered had faded by the time she stepped out of Room 105. The thrill of verbal retaliation? Not really. Worries about future classmate relationships? Vaguely present, but gradually easing.
Growing up in a complex family environment, Sheng Xia had learned from an early age how to comfort herself. Though she hadn't spent much time with Sheng Mingfeng, she had absorbed many lessons from him about human relationships and judgment.
People like Zhou Xuanxuan were a paradox—they scorned what they called "connections" and "bootlicking" while simultaneously fearing and revering them. If they ever gained such advantages, or even just came close, they'd be eager to flaunt them to the world.
Silence was never the best way to deal with such people; measured firmness was the key to survival.
Many of these truths Sheng Xia had understood long ago, though she rarely had occasion to apply them.
She wasn't sure if today's approach had been the right one, but having taken this step, she would let things unfold as they may.
Zhou Xuanxuan was just a passing figure in her life.
She knew the knot in her heart wasn't because of Zhou Xuanxuan, but she couldn't pinpoint its source.
It was stifling, and she couldn't unravel it.
Sheng Xia had no idea how she'd managed to carry all those boxes back. When she entered the classroom, she was met with stunned gazes—she must have looked like some kind of warrior princess.
She set the boxes down on the desk, her arms stiff from holding the same position for so long that they wouldn't straighten. Stretching them slightly sent a dull ache through her muscles. Her hands were still trembling when she made the call.
Sheng Mingfeng was in a meeting, so Li Xu answered the phone. Sheng Xia asked when he'd be free to come retrieve the dresses.
Li Xu was puzzled. "Why bring them back? Didn't they fit?"
"They did, perfectly. The event is over."
"Then just keep them."
Sheng Xia frowned slightly. "Aren't they supposed to be returned?"
Thinking she was worried about propriety, Li Xu chuckled. "No need. They were bought outright, not borrowed or gifted. You can keep them without concern."
Bought?
If renting them would cost thousands, how much would buying them cost?
Sheng Xia knew Sheng Mingfeng well. Coming from humble beginnings, he maintained a frugal lifestyle, indifferent to luxuries in his daily life—not as a show for colleagues or superiors. Still, with his elevated social status and broader horizons, he occasionally accepted expensive items for family members, neither forbidding them for the sake of appearances nor encouraging extravagance.
Zou Weiping, on the other hand, had been born with a silver spoon in his mouth and adored understated luxury.
This must have been entirely Zou Weiping's doing.
Now Sheng Xia was in a bind.
What was she supposed to do with such expensive dresses? Taking them home was out of the question. Telling Sheng Mingfeng? That would likely spark another argument between him and Zou Weiping.
In those brief seconds, countless ideas for "hiding the dresses" flashed through her mind, each dismissed as quickly as it came.
Clutching her phone at the base of the corridor stairs, Sheng Xia was at a loss, hesitating over whether to contact Zou Weiping herself.
But in all these years, she'd never dealt with Zou Weiping directly. How should she even begin?
Suddenly, she heard Hou Junqi and Zhang Shu's voices overhead, accompanied by the clatter of footsteps descending from above."Send me the photos?" Hou Junqi said. "I'll post them on Weibo, QQ, and Moments to show off."
Zhang Shu asked, "Show off what?"
"Show off our class goddess, of course?"
Zhang Shu replied, "What's that got to do with you?"
"Fine, nothing to do with me, but everything to do with you, okay?" Hou Junqi chuckled. "Shu, tell me, who's prettier—Sheng Xia or Chen Mengyao? The guys in the dorms are placing bets. Wanna join in?"
Zhang Shu answered, "Pathetic."
Hou Junqi continued, "Never expected little Sheng Xia to have such a great figure, huh?"
A loud smack of flesh hitting flesh rang out, followed by Hou Junqi's yelp of pain. "Damn it, Shu, what was that for?!"
"If your computer gets a virus, that's fine, but don't let your brain rot," Zhang Shu enunciated each word clearly before adding, "And keep your fantasies to yourself."
"Who's fantasizing?! Where'd you even get that idea? I was just complimenting her! Can't I even do that?" Hou Junqi sounded utterly aggrieved. "Just send me the photos, will you?"
Their voices faded into the distance as Sheng Xia guessed they must have entered the classroom. Only then did she emerge from beneath the stairwell.
Through the glass door of the classroom, she could still see the boy's broad shoulders and the elegant curve of the back of his head.
Suddenly, she didn’t want to go back inside.
She didn’t want to sit beside him, didn’t want to "put on a shy expression," didn’t want—to flirt with anyone.
In that moment, those harsh words cycled through her mind again:
Just flirting...
Couldn’t get the queen, so he’s teasing the little rabbit...
The little rabbit’s flustered, shy look...
Boosting his ego...
Zhang Shu only brought Sheng Xia along to piss you off...
...
...
Just flirting.
To piss you off.
A sour ache spread through her throat.
In that awful moment, Sheng Xia finally understood the lingering knot in her chest—she might be experiencing an unfamiliar emotion called "liking."
And it didn’t seem pleasant at all.
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