Chapter 5

A few days later, the start-of-term exams arrived as scheduled, mainly for the school leaders to check whether anyone had slacked off during the holidays.

I had already checked the seating chart in advance.

Lu Yici, Song Qingqing, Yi Chao, and even Xie Yang were all in the same exam room.

No wonder it’s a school romance novel-everything is just so coincidental.

To be in the same exam room as them, I had no choice but to use some financial clout to pull a few strings behind the scenes.

Running around so much, I didn’t realize until right before the exam that I hadn’t bought an eraser.

Looking up, I saw Song Qingqing was already gone from her seat, and Yi Chao was just leaving the classroom.

Through the clear glass window, the boy walking down the corridor seemed to glance in my direction-a brief, casual look.

Almost everyone had already headed to the exam room. Only a few girls in the row above me were still chatting and laughing.

Was he looking at them?

Lu Yici was still lounging lazily in his chair, unhurriedly packing up his stationery.

Xie Yang, who sat in front of me, was squeezing in a last ten-minute nap.

“Lu Yici, lend me an eraser.”

He paused, lifted his eyelids to look at me. “What?”

I repeated, “Lend me an eraser.”

“Oh,” he drawled, raising an eyebrow, “And why should I lend it to you?”

…

He stretched his long legs out with the chair, looking completely unconcerned.

Then he added, “Tsk, so rude. No ‘please,’ no ‘thank you’ when you borrow something.”

I glanced at the time, then calmly took out one can, two cans, three cans…

I pushed the fifth can of soda in front of him, holding the can as I turned to look at him.

Our eyes met.

He let out a low chuckle from his throat.

Then, lazily, he tossed an eraser over, the corners of his lips curling up, though his face looked reluctant. “Fine, since you’re being so filial to your dad.”

I replied coolly, “Look carefully, this is your dad rewarding you.”

Other desk-mates are all loving and helpful, but Lu Yici acts like a rebellious son, arguing with me every day.

Before he could say anything else to contradict me, I said, “Lu Yici, we’re desk-mates.”

“So what?” He raised his brow, full of disdain.

“It’s fine if you don’t do well on the exam,” I said, putting the eraser and ruler into my bag, standing up and pushing in my chair, “but if your desk-mate also does badly, wouldn’t that be embarrassing for you?”