Waking up, changing clothes, tossing a silver coin, and stuffing a stylish men’s outfit into a pink handbag, Ji Yuenian—no, Ji Qingchan— tilted her head as she gazed at the innocent-looking girl in the mirror.
“Good morning, Ji Qingchan.”
The innocent girl in the mirror tilted her head in response, a clear voice flowing from her throat: “Another day to conquer Jiang Chi.”
Standing guard at the alley entrance, chattering nonstop along the way, parting at the school gate-after going through the usual routine, Ji Qingchan hurried to Secret Base No. 2, transforming back into her male form and changing into men’s clothes.
Inside the school building, Class 3, Grade 11.
In years past, every newly elected school heartthrob would visit the photography club on the same day to take a half-length portrait.
The student council would then fund the printing of this portrait, displaying it in the school building as a supreme symbol of honor.
“Senior, senior.”
A slightly urgent voice called out.
“The senior in the white T-shirt, could you come out for a moment? I’m from the photography club.”
The voice cut through the noisy classroom, reaching the ears of a boy who had just entered.
Ji Yuenian glanced down at his T-shirt-yep, definitely white.
He turned his head slightly and saw a familiar face standing at the classroom door-Liu Mengyun, staring impatiently in his direction.
White T-shirt. Familiar face. Looking at me.
This time, the school heartthrob title is finally mine!!
* * *
Brimming with excitement, Ji Yuenian strode to the door in a few quick steps, barely containing his emotions as he clapped Liu Mengyun on the shoulder with forced politeness.
“Old Liu, I’ll have to trouble you this time—”
“Uh, Minister Ji, I wasn’t looking for you.”
Liu Mengyun shifted his shoulder away, an awkward expression flashing across his face.
He then waved his camera toward the back of the classroom, behind Ji Yuenian, and called out, “Senior Jiang, do you have a moment? Come with me for a photo.”
At that moment, a blue-eyed boy sitting in the back row slowly lifted his gaze from his book.
His deep, starry blue eyes were as calm as stagnant water, devoid of any ripple.
“Mm.”
Ji Yuenian stiffened slightly, his 1.83-meter-tall frame freezing in place like a statue.
“This is outrageous! Inhumane!”
“Why?! I was way ahead last night!!”
At noon, at a barbecue stall outside the school, Ji Yuenian glared at the top-ranked name on the school heartthrob election app and angrily slammed his beer can onto the ground.
“I was leading by a huge margin last night! How the hell did that pretty boy Jiang Chi overtake me?! This makes no sense! Absolutely no sense!!”
“Bro Ji, we’ve got the details.”
Suddenly, Su Tian leaned in.
“According to the guys’ reports, Jiang Chi’s votes suddenly skyrocketed around 10 p.m. last night.”
“So you’re saying that pretty boy used third-party software to rig the votes!”
Ji Yuenian’s eyes lit up, instantly wide awake.
“Not exactly.”
Su Tian shook his head.
“Based on the guys’ guess, the votes that were originally for you suddenly switched to Jiang Chi around 10 p.m.”
Since the education reform, the voting election system has also undergone changes.
Compared to the previous “no regrets after casting a vote,” the current voting process is more flexible.
After casting a vote, one can cancel and recast it, even up to the last second before voting ends-switching from one candidate to another.
So, around 10 p.m. last night, some people who had voted for Ji Yuenian canceled their votes for him and switched to Jiang Chi.
This shift naturally left Ji Yuenian utterly defeated.
“These ungrateful little wolves! How have I ever mistreated them?!”
Ji Yuenian took a swig of alcohol and couldn’t help but curse at the thought.
“Stabbing me in the back like this! Damn it! What did Jiang Chi even offer them?! Is being a lapdog that great?!”
For this election, he had invested at least twenty grand.
While he hadn’t treated everyone to a lavish meal, he had at least given each person a cigarette or two.
But the result… the result…
Ji Yuenian’s fists clenched tightly in anger!!
Over on the other side, Su Tian listened to Ji Yuenian’s outburst and shook his head inwardly, sighing, “Brother Ji really took a hard fall this time.”
It’s not the scarcity but the inequality that breeds discontent.
He understood this, and so did Ji Yuenian.
But in real life, how does one define the boundaries between “scarcity” and “equality”?
Moreover, Ji Yuenian couldn’t possibly hand out cigarettes to every single classmate-he only operated within his social circle.
Within that circle, some people owed him favors, while others didn’t.
And even among those who did, some might change their minds for various reasons.
For example, if everyone was voting for you, why did you take him out for a fancy meal but not me?
A small kindness is remembered, but a great one breeds resentment.
Lost in these thoughts, Su Tian absentmindedly rubbed his phone.
Not long ago, someone had anonymously sent him a “little something.”
Meanwhile, Ji Yuenian cracked open one beer after another, chugging them like water.
Su Tian snatched the beer away, his dark, hazy eyes fixed on him.
“Brother Ji, stop drinking. I have something to show you,” he said mysteriously, pulling up a recording.
Ji Yuenian was half-drunk, but the moment the recording started playing, he whipped his head around, his eyes flashing with a tiger-like ferocity.
“Jiang Chi, did you know? Ji Yuenian from the sports department and his crew are pulling out all the stops to campaign for this school heartthrob election…”
The voice was clearly processed, making it impossible to tell if it was male or female.
“I know.”
The next voice was much clearer undeniably male.
Combined with the name mentioned earlier, it wasn’t hard to guess who it was.
The recording lasted only about thirty seconds.
When it ended, both men fell into silence.
After a long pause, Ji Yuenian lightly tapped the table with his fingers, his voice low.
“Who gave this to you?”
“Someone sent it to me anonymously on QQ this morning. I checked the account was just registered.”
Su Tian swallowed hard.
For some reason, the way Ji Yuenian was looking at him sent chills down his spine, as if he were being scrutinized by a predator at the top of the food chain.
“That’s it?”
“That’s it.”
“Hmm.”
The sound of fingers tapping rhythmically against the solid wooden table filled the air.
Seated on the wooden chair, Ji Yuenian drummed his fingers against the armrest, his gaze fixed on Su Tian. In the quiet of the barbecue stall, the sound was unmistakable.
Su Tian placed his phone on the table and pushed it forward cautiously, suggesting, “Brother Ji, maybe we should take this to the academic affairs office…”
The young man interlaced his fingers, resting them in front of him, his eyes narrowing slightly.
A recording? Who sent it?
Weren’t it just him and Jiang Chi there at the time?
Never mind how much impact this could have if it got out—just the thought of Jiang Chi’s favorability toward “Ji Qingchan” probably plummeting straight to -999 was enough.
As for explaining it wasn’t him—what a joke.
There were only two people present at the time.
It’s not like there was some sneaky lurker hiding in the bushes, right?
So… A glint flashed through Ji Yuenian’s eyes.
Should he let Jiang Chi suffer, leaving “Ji Qingchan” to bear the blame?
Or pretend he heard nothing and let this pass?
After all, “Ji Qingchan” was fake. Jiang Chi wouldn’t even be able to find anyone to confront about it.
And the whole reason he was playing the role of “Ji Qingchan” was to save face.
Now, trading a bit of dignity for the position of school heartthrob didn’t seem like a bad deal.
The rhythmic tapping on the table gradually slowed, as if mirroring its owner’s mood.
Su Tian watched as Ji Yuenian finally looked up.
“No need.”
A long sigh escaped, followed by the young man’s low voice.
“Just delete it.”
Su Tian looked stunned. “Huh? Brother Ji, don’t you even want to—”
Thwack!
Ji Yuenian slapped Su Tian on the shoulder, cutting off the rest of his words.
“Even if he really did rally votes, didn’t I do the same? It’s six of one, half a dozen of the other. If I lost, I can’t blame anyone else. Besides, if this blows up, it’ll just make things awkward for both me and Jiang Chi.”
He rubbed his chin thoughtfully.
“Wait-go find Wang Xin from the IT department later. Ask him to help trace who anonymously sent you that recording. Tell him I owe him one.”