On the left side of the slope, there were slogans painted in red characters on white walls, giving off a nostalgic feel.
At the school gate stood members of this week’s Civic Guidance Team, wearing red sashes, much like greeters.
Typically, the team was composed of one boy and one girl.
Their main job was to check if students were wearing red scarves.
If not, they’d note down their names and class to deduct points.
Of course, some clever kids would give their friends’ names to avoid punishment.
Although red scarves were sold at small shops, not everyone had money to buy them—or were willing to.
That money was better spent on snacks.
Getting penalized wasn’t a big deal, but it would make you a thorn in the homeroom teacher’s side.
If the class didn’t get recognized as a “civilized class” and win the rotating red flag, the teacher would be the most upset—no bonus.
Apparently, next week was Chen Qiao’s turn to be on duty.
This week, it was Class 6-1, students he’d known since kindergarten.
The boy was Tian Zhen, nicknamed “Naïve.”
He was the vice class leader of Class 1.
His dad was a minor official in town.
They had a boxed edition of Three Kingdoms Kill at home.
He and Chen Qiao used to play cards and video games together, lending each other game cartridges and discs.
But since middle school, they drifted apart as their interests changed and they made new friends.
The girl was Zheng Huijun, the class monitor of Class 1.
She lived right next to the school and was a precocious girl.
Her looks were decent, and she knew how to dress up—accessorizing her hair and styling it cutely.
Rumor had it she started dating in the fourth grade, going through a long list of boyfriends of various types.
It wasn’t clear if she changed boyfriends every year or every semester.
But every time she changed classes, she’d change boyfriends.
Apparently, she even dated Tian Zhen once—but they had broken up long ago.
Somehow, they could still work together.
Zheng Huijun used to have excellent grades.
Now her focus clearly wasn’t on studying anymore, but she was still doing okay.
She was articulate and a go-getter, maintaining a good relationship with the teachers.
It seemed that after entering middle school, a big fight broke out among her boyfriends.
It caused a stir.
She was basically born to be a troublemaker.
After entering high school, there were no more rumors about her—she probably didn’t continue her education.
Years later, Chen Qiao would see her again at Tian Zhen’s wedding.
Both she and her husband were invited.
Her husband was from out of town—a textbook rebound guy.
Tian Zhen’s wife was someone he met through a blind date, not one of his ex-girlfriends.
“Chen Qiao, want to cover my post for a bit? My stomach hurts. I ate something bad.”
Tian Zhen hunched over, face pale, holding his belly while stepping in place, ready to bolt at any moment.
“You leaving for a bit won’t make a difference, right? Zheng Huijun can handle it on her own.”
If she couldn’t manage this much, that would be concerning.
“But if a teacher passes by and sees I’m not there, they’ll think I’m late. The class monitor won’t even give me a chance to explain. I won’t get my Children’s Day award, and there goes my allowance. Please, I’ll let you watch the new anime with me when I get it!”
Without waiting for a reply, Tian Zhen stuffed his red sash into Chen Qiao’s hands and ran off without looking back.
“This brat…”
Chen Qiao shook his head helplessly.
Refusing wasn’t really an option—even though it wasn’t his job.
He didn’t have anything else to do anyway.
It just meant he’d see his deskmate a bit later.
He was curious to see how her studying had gone last night.
Wearing the sash felt silly, but standing blankly at the school gate was even dumber.
Chen Qiao reluctantly put on the crumpled and dirty red sash.
Unlike Zheng Huijun who was doing her job seriously, he just stood there with his hands on his head, spinning around and glancing in all directions.
Behind him was the new teaching building, which was mostly finished.
Around it were leftover sand piles and construction materials.
It had become a playground for students who dug holes and played games like
“Thunder Crescent Slash” or “Battle Tyrannomon” —basically fancy versions of tag with roleplay.
No one wanted to be the villain, so everyone fought to play the heroes.
After last year’s earthquake, many old school buildings across the country had collapsed due to poor quake resistance and disrepair.
A nationwide investigation began, tearing down and rebuilding dangerous buildings.
Chen Qiao’s old school building was one of them.
The new one had a trendy frame structure, with yellow single desks and chairs—chairs with backrests.
Fortunately, the elementary school hadn’t seen any accidents.
It was built on a flattened hill.
The middle school, however, was built at the foot of a mountain.
After continuous heavy rain, a landslide occurred.
Mud and rocks buried the bathhouse and the girls’ dormitory.
There was one death and four injuries.
Chen Qiao couldn’t remember the exact date, only that it happened this month.
The rain was so heavy that day his sister didn’t even come home for dinner.
Chen Qiao and his parents were terrified when they heard the news.
His sister was a day student, but what if she had gone to the dorm area to play?
They couldn’t reach the school or her teacher, so they rushed over to check on her.
Thankfully, she was safe.
But she came home emotionally shaken.
She even cried that night, though her sobs were drowned out by the rain.
She took a sick day the next day—something unheard of for her.
She was the kind of “iron-willed” student who went to class even when sick.
Could the person who died have been her friend?
In his past life, Chen Qiao was just an ordinary kid.
He never thought that deeply.
He simply assumed his sister had been scared.
Was it her deskmate?
Did she continue helping the boarding students charge their devices after that?
Maybe.
The details were fuzzy.
In any case, when the time came, Chen Qiao thought, “he would do whatever he could—”even if the only reason was to keep his sister from being sad.
“Chen Qiao, I heard you held hands with Wu Xinyu yesterday?”
Zheng Huijun covered her mouth, gossiping.
She was surprisingly well-informed.
“I tripped, and she helped me up.”
It wasn’t surprising that students from other classes knew about it.
Everyone in both classes basically knew each other.
Wu Xinyu was the center of attention—a graceful white swan.
Everything she did drew eyes.
There were already people gossiping about them during yesterday’s class meeting.
This was the first time Wu Xinyu had been in a proper rumor.
Before, it was always others confessing or writing love letters to her.
People were just eager to witness the “angel falling from heaven” kind of drama.
“You even ran into the girls’ restroom?”
“Who spread that rumor? I had a nosebleed and washed up near the girls’ restroom entrance. It was an emergency. I didn’t think too much.”
“Oh… I see.”
“Chen Qiao, it’s not your shift today, is it?”
A soft, airy voice echoed by his ear.
Chen Qiao looked up to see Wu Xinyu, backpack on, holding her shoulder straps.
She wore two beautifully braided pigtails that hung in front of her chest.
Her hair was clipped with candy-colored pins, and her bangs parted slightly, revealing her smooth forehead.
She looked fresh and serene.
“I’m covering for a friend. He has a stomachache.”
“You scared me—I thought I got the time wrong,” Wu Xinyu said, patting her slightly heaving chest in relief.
Chen Qiao spotted a familiar petite figure walking quickly past the school gate with her head down.
He waved and called out: “Lin Na, good morning!”
“Big sis, someone’s calling you,” the short-haired girl beside her tugged Lin Na’s hand and looked up.
“Uh, oh… good morning, Chen Qiao…”
Lin Na stopped and turned to respond.
She also nodded politely to Wu Xinyu and Zheng Huijun—a basic greeting, as she wasn’t close with them.
Lin Na’s expression was a bit awkward.
Of course she had seen Chen Qiao, but standing next to the two beautiful girls—Wu Xinyu and Zheng Huijun—made her feel deeply inferior.
She just wanted to flee, especially since her younger sister was present.
She really didn’t want to embarrass herself.
Lin Na’s little sister had a similar face shape, with a pointier chin and fairer skin than her sister.
She also had thin arms and wrists, making her look cuter.
When she noticed Chen Qiao’s gaze, she shyly hid behind Lin Na, peeking out from under her sister’s armpit with wide eyes.
“You must be Lin Na’s little sister, right? What’s your name?”
Chen Qiao crouched down and asked gently.
“Lin Yu. ‘Lin’ as in forest, and ‘Yu’ like lush greenery.”
Chen Qiao patted his pocket—surprisingly, he still had a leftover lollipop from yesterday.
He pulled it out and handed it to Lin Yu.
The little girl hadn’t fallen ill yet, so a little candy wouldn’t hurt.
Once her condition developed, sugar intake would need to be controlled.
Compared to the landslide accident at the middle school, this was a situation where Chen Qiao might actually be able to make a difference.
Type 1 diabetes was caused by a complex mix of autoimmune issues, genetics, and viral infections—stuff that sounded like a mystery even to adults.
“Do you want a lollipop?”
Chen Qiao offered it to her.
“Chen Qiao, don’t you have any sense of duty as a Guidance Team member?”
Wu Xinyu asked, lightly biting her lower lip.
Technically, snacks weren’t allowed on campus, and yet here he was, blatantly violating the rule as an on-duty
“Officer.”
“Let’s all pretend we didn’t see anything,” Chen Qiao said quickly, slipping the lollipop into Lin Yu’s school uniform pocket.
“You can eat it after you get home with your sister.”
“Oh right—Lin Na, could you help me take my backpack to the classroom first?”
Though his bag wasn’t heavy at all, Chen Qiao’s intention was to build trust between him and Lin Na.
He needed something from her—namely, her cooperation—and easing the imbalance in their dynamic would help.
By asking this small favor, it also made it more natural for Lin Yu to accept the lollipop, and for Lin Na to accept his after-school tutoring.
Otherwise, if it were just Chen Qiao giving and Lin Na receiving, she might overthink things and become suspicious of his motives.
And truthfully, Chen Qiao did have some ulterior motives.
Next on his agenda was to improve Lin Na’s academic performance and boost her confidence.
This was the first small step in his plan to raise her—and a big step forward for Lin Na herself.
“Alright,” Lin Na nodded and took his backpack, carrying it across her chest.
“I’ll walk with you,” Wu Xinyu said as she caught up, leaving Chen Qiao and Zheng Huijun to continue manning the gate.
The school’s morning broadcast ended, transitioning to the daily routine of classical poetry reading and literary appreciation.
Only ten minutes remained until the first class.