Chapter 5

A truce with Song Mingqi? Impossible.

My answer that day had been, “In your dreams.”

I could not beat him at underhanded tricks, so I began competing with him in other ways: grades, sports, height.

There was nothing Lu Haohao did not excel at.

During the summer before our final year of high school, I begged Lu Lan to teach me the senior-year material in advance.

Perhaps Mom was so proud of my diligence that she bragged about it to Song Mingqi’s mother. A few days later, Song Mingqi appeared at our door with his schoolbag and rang the bell.

My parents welcomed him. My brother and I each leaned against our bedroom doorframes, watching the harmonious scene with equally sour expressions.

Lu Lan already resented tutoring one person. A second annoyed him even more.

I was annoyed simply because I had to look at Song Mingqi.

I lowered my voice ominously. “Why are you everywhere?”

Song Mingqi blinked at me innocently, then turned to Lu Lan.

“Brother Lu, sorry to trouble you.”

Lu Lan nodded carelessly, opened his bedroom door, and crooked a finger at us. “Both of you, come in.”

After half a day of tutoring, every trace of Lu Lan’s displeasure with Song Mingqi had vanished. When Song Mingqi left, Lu Lan even walked him to the door. From the living room, I heard Song Mingqi sigh wistfully. “I wish I had a brother like you. You could help me study, and we could play games together.”

Lu Lan said, “We can play games together now. What’s your username? I’ll add you.”

I crunched loudly into my apple. After the door closed, Lu Lan swaggered back in and raised an eyebrow at me. “Behold your brother’s charisma. Even a young guy can’t resist.”

I rolled my eyes toward the ceiling. What an idiot. The young guy already had him wrapped around one finger.

Song Mingqi was gifted at socializing. Men and women, old and young—once they got to know him, they all liked him.

He thrived among our classmates and knew every scrap of gossip from every corner of school.

Sometimes he told me about it, but I suspected the dog had ulterior motives. He was trying to ruin my cultivation and distract me from my studies.

Gossip was terribly compelling, though.

Whenever he shared the latest juicy story, I declared a temporary truce and watched him. His lashes were long and curled, his eyes clear and bright, and every time I demanded, “Then what?”

His words came faster and faster.

As I listened, part of my mind wandered. With that silver tongue, he could have made a living as a storyteller.

“Lu Haohao, apparently our class monitor is pursuing someone.”

I paused. “Which class monitor?”

After our classes were reassigned, Song Mingqi and I had ended up in different ones. Where had this “our class monitor” come from?

He pressed his lips together. The corners did not lift—they even curved slightly downward—yet I could feel him smiling, delight radiating from every inch of him.

I narrowed my eyes and studied his face. “What evil scheme are you holding in?”

He chuckled twice, with a boy’s pure, slightly foolish air.

I looked away, startled.

Of course. Song Mingqi had mastered the honey trap to perfection. I had almost fallen under his spell.

I chanted inwardly: A beautiful face is only bones beneath the skin. The prettier the thing, the more poisonous. Poisonous. Poisonous.

He stole food from my tray again. In a flash, I caught his hand and shouted, “Poisonous!”

The quail egg fell from his chopsticks onto the table. Song Mingqi stared blankly at me while I held his hand.

The cafeteria fell silent and stared blankly at me too.

At that moment, I felt as though I had been placed over a fire to roast.

I withdrew my hand shakily, lowered my burning face, and grumbled an edited and expanded version of the insult that had been running through my head. “Damn it, Song Mingqi. Steal from my tray one more time and I’ll skin you.”

He coughed. Laughter tangled with every cough, adding fuel to the flames. “Do you want to explain yourself? Otherwise, I’m afraid your dad will be called in for another scolding. You’re causing a public panic.”

That evening, I appeared on the school confession wall in a post praising the brave warrior who had openly challenged the cafeteria food.

The discussion that followed soon wandered so far from its starting point that the two were practically unrelated.

Someone joked that I had invented this “brilliant” scheme just to make physical contact with Song Mingqi and commended my courage.

I had no idea where they caught the scent of that old story, but soon everyone was excitedly discussing how I had once said I liked Song Mingqi.

Song Mingqi sent me a screenshot. “Should I correct them and explain that you said it was not that you didn’t like me?”

I smiled without warmth. “Would you like me to block you again?”

Joy and sorrow are never truly shared. All I heard was noise.