School Life

By day, my straight roommate and I are sworn enemies.

By night, I secretly write slash fanfiction about the two of us.

[He slowly closed his eyes, his soft lips pressing against mine…]

That very night, in my dreams, we reenacted the exact scene from my story.

Later, I discovered that whatever I wrote, I would dream about that night.

I became addicted to it, losing myself in the fantasies until there was no turning back.

Still, I always made sure to maintain a sense of propriety, never daring to go too far or truly offend him.

Until one day, I finally plucked up the courage to reach out and touch my roommate in the dream.

The next morning, the look in his eyes when he turned to me was dark and unreadable.

“What’s the point of just dreaming?” he said, grabbing my hand and pulling me toward him.

It turned out that I wasn’t the only one; he had been having those dreams too.

I ranked first in GPA on the Heartless Path, but for my postgraduate recommendation, I chose the Joyful Union Sect.

The Eldest Senior Brother of the Joyful Union Sect panicked.

“What? The highest-difficulty graduation project has become our Little Junior Sister?”

My Second Junior Brother of the Heartless Path also panicked.

“It’s over. Is my freakishly strong Eldest Senior Sister coming back to conquer me?”

Tremble, Cultivation World!

In the seventh year of having a crush on my childhood friend, encouraged by my best friend,

I carried flowers and a cake onto an overnight train to confess my feelings to him.

But on a basketball court roaring with noise and people,

I ran straight into the sight of the two of them kissing.

With his arm around my best friend, my childhood friend asked coldly, “What are you doing here? Can’t you see I’m busy?”

Disheveled and humiliated, I was just about to explain

when his roommate beside him let out a soft laugh. “My girlfriend came to bring me a cake. What’s it got to do with you?”

Chi Heng pretended to be poor and became my kept boyfriend.

Each month, I scraped together five hundred yuan from my living expenses to give him, and this went on for a year and a half.

As graduation approached, I finally found out:

He wasn’t a poor student on loans, but a young master who spent money like water.

He’d even been using someone else’s name the whole time.

The young master condescended to invite me to go abroad with him.

His friends all said I was lucky-with just a kind little white flower persona, I could climb up the social ladder.

Under his gaze, brimming with confidence that he’d get what he wanted,

I shook my head and said gently, “Better not.”

“I’m here to break up with you.”

In my senior year of high school, my parents cut off every cent of my living expenses and tried to force me to drop out.

With nowhere else to turn, I enrolled at an elite school packed with rich heirs.

My grades were good enough to earn a full tuition waiver, but tuition was not going to keep me fed.

After going hungry for half a month, I finally worked up the courage to face the classmates who never studied and ask, “Does anyone need their homework done? It’s only five yuan per assignment.”

The young masters and heiresses, who had been busy showing off their wealth, fell silent and stared at me in shock.

Then the room erupted.

“Five yuan? Who do you think you’re insulting? Five hundred—I’m first!”

“Five thousand! Put me at the front!”

“Fifty thousand—and I mean dollars!”

“I’ll top every bid! Let’s see who dares fight me for first place today!”

I was the poor scholarship student at an elite private high school. That day, I suddenly started seeing floating comments:

[The male lead is cutting class and climbing over the wall from the school’s back garden, but he fell into the water! What do we do? The male lead can’t swim!]

[Where’s the female lead? Save him!]

[The female lead is sick today, so she’s not at school. Sigh, what a shame. Whoever saves the male lead will gain a ton of favorability with him.]

I wasn’t the female lead of this story. I was just cannon fodder.

At that moment, I lazily propped my chin in my hand and continued listening to math class.

Please. What good would the male lead’s favorability do me? I wasn’t going to save him.

He was the male lead, anyway. It wasn’t like he’d actually drown.

I wasn’t some kind, innocent little flower. I only cared about two things: money and grades.

The floating comments kept rolling by:

[Whoever saves the male lead will probably get a huge reward from his family, right? I wonder who’ll be that lucky. With how rich his family is, even a little pocket change from them would be enough to live on for a lifetime.]

Money!?

I shot to my feet. Behind me, my chair toppled over with a loud clang.

At the school evening party, four girls from the Dance Club collapsed from poisoning while performing ballet.

After being sent to the hospital, three died from the poison, and one was lucky enough to survive.

The one who survived was me.

The one who poisoned them was also me.

In high school, the boy seated behind me had a crush on me, so he put glue in my hair, punctured my bicycle tires, and threw away my homework.

He would even snap my bra strap while I was concentrating in class.

Snap-the sound rang out with humiliating clarity through the classroom.

I spun around, red with shame and fury, and he grinned at me. “New style today, huh?”

His friend immediately joined in. “Xia Xin! He only does it because he likes you!”

“You two are going to get married someday anyway, so who cares if your future husband touches you? Hahaha!”

The tips of Zhou Qi’s ears were bright red, but the sight only made my stomach turn.

Later, in the cafeteria, I dumped a tray of food over his head and smiled into his furious face. “I like you!”

His friend leaped up to defend him. “How is dumping food on his head supposed to mean you like him?”

See? They knew exactly what they were doing.

So I yanked down his pants with one hand and said flatly, “There-now I like you.”

The Pei family funded me for ten years, and Pei Shaoye hated me for ten years.

Because not only was I a top student, I was also well-behaved.

The proud and untamable young master once spoke of me with disdain to his friends.

“She’s so full of it, just a bookworm who only knows how to study. Without my family’s funding, she’d be nothing.”

When I won another scholarship, Pei’s father asked me what reward I wanted.

I said I wanted Pei Shaoye.

“Great, with you, Xiaoye will surely mend his ways.”

That very night, I had Pei Shaoye pinned beneath me on the bed, kissing him breathlessly.

With an indifferent face, I watched his lashes tremble and his neck flush red.

“Am I learning well, Young Master Pei?”

“What the hell… What kind of book is this?”

“Forcing Rebellious Men: A Smutty Po18 Novel. Forgot to tell you-top students don’t just study well, we also rock it in action.”

During our sophomore year of high school, the underprivileged student my childhood friend had been sponsoring transferred to our school.

She was plain, rustic, and awkward, yet her eyes carefully concealed a crush on Xiao Yunzhou.

Everyone at school mocked her for her wishful thinking, and they warned me with heavy hearts:

“Huaishan, you’d better be careful. Having Wei Xiaoyun stick to Xiao Yunzhou is like getting a piece of gum caught in your hair-you’ll never get rid of her.”

“Having someone like that hovering around your childhood friend every day is honestly disgusting.”

“Exactly, Huaishan. It’s not the thief you should fear, but the one who’s always watching. Sooner or later, you’re going to suffer at Wei Xiaoyun’s hands.”