Chapter 2

My boring life suddenly became a lot more interesting.

For instance, people kept appearing out of nowhere, wanting to be my friends. Every one of them was rich or well connected.

“Mianmian, that Michelin restaurant is really good. Let me take you.”

Li Changqing was in Class Eleven. At a hundred and eighty-five centimeters, he had flirting down to a fine art.

He was one of the boys Zhao Mingzhu had asked for help, and also her cousin. Handsome, from a good family, he liked to sleep around.

He pursued me openly.

Since he was the only boy I occasionally bothered to answer, rumors spread in my class that we were dating.

My homeroom teacher called us into her office. Class Eleven’s homeroom teacher was sitting beside her.

Li Changqing’s teacher was a stern man. He looked at him coldly. “Focus on your studies. Your own grades are bad enough. Stop distracting other people. I’ve already called your parents. I want a thousand-word written apology tomorrow.”

“And I spoke to your parents yesterday. They don’t agree with you studying art. Don’t imagine it’s some shortcut. Your art teacher tells me you have too many ideas when you draw. You aren’t suited to the exams.”

Li Changqing clenched his fists.

His teacher rattled on like a machine gun.

So much noise.

When he told Li Changqing yet again to stop interfering with my studies, I interrupted.

There was no particular feeling in my eyes. “He won’t affect me, sir. I’ll still come first.”

The teacher faltered. He was about to lose his temper when my teacher stepped in, fiercely protective.

“All right, all right. Off you both go.”

After that, Li Changqing pursued me even harder. Handbags, money, endless attempts at uninteresting conversation.

If he had been pursuing my mother, it would certainly have worked.

Unfortunately, my mother had had plenty of suitors. I’d long since grown bored of their tricks.

I looked at him listlessly and rejected his advances. “Your grades are terrible.”

He looked aggrieved. “Mianmian, studying isn’t as easy for everyone as it is for you.”

“But you’re very talented at painting.”

His expression changed. The careless air fell away and he sat up straight. “You really think so? My teacher says I just scribble. That I don’t follow the rules.”

“Yes.”

That was all I said.

“You don’t think I’m wasting my time?”

He asked again.

Then he began complaining. His family wouldn’t let him touch a paintbrush. They wanted to send him abroad.

I interrupted. “All right. I need to go home.”

An experienced old womanizer would have known better than to reveal his weaknesses to a woman who hadn’t fallen in love with him.

She could use them against him.

“Mianmian, want me to teach you to paint?”

His eyes were the finest feature of his face, soft and flirtatious.

I liked beautiful things. Looking at him, I smiled. “Your eyes are lovely. Teach me how to paint them.”

His ears turned scarlet. His brush hand trembled for an instant.

For all his experience, he was only eighteen. Now and then, a little innocence showed through.

I watched his ears and gave a soft laugh.

This was the boy who had said he’d make me kneel and lick someone’s shoes?

Nothing much to him after all.

I compared his painting with the disastrous mess I’d just made. “Looks like I have no talent for painting. What a shame.”

He laughed. “You’re really cute, Mianmian.”

I set down the brush. “It’s dirty now. I don’t like things once they’ve been dirtied. Men included.”

His face changed. He looked into my eyes.

I looked at the painting he’d just made.

The eyes in it were mine.

Calm, undisturbed, without a trace of love or feeling.

He forced a smile and left in a hurry.

I felt a gaze full of malice.

Zhao Mingzhu was staring at the paintbrush on the ground.

Li Changqing treasured his brushes. Today, he’d actually dropped one.

I picked it up and threw it in the bin.

Perhaps they would send someone else next.

Hopefully someone more interesting.