“Sorry, sis. Teacher Ma already told me… I won’t mention your relationship with Jiang Ge at school.”
Wang Yu pressed his palms together and bowed apologetically.
It was lunch break now. Most people had gone to the cafeteria, and there was no one else in the classroom.
“Good.”
Jiang Cheng’s tone was calm. In Wang Yu’s eyes, that indifference only made his heart itch a little.
He’d noticed last time—Jiang Ge’s cousin seemed a bit… uh, cold and beautiful?
He didn’t know what adjective to use.
Anyway, she somehow reminded him of Jiang Ge.
“How’s Jiang Ge’s health?”
Teacher Ma had told the class about Jiang Cheng’s leave during the morning break, and Wang Yu was clearly the one most concerned about it.
“The doctor told him to rest for a week.”
It felt strange to curse myself into being sick, Jiang Cheng thought, the corner of his eye twitching slightly.
“Oh, okay then.”
Wang Yu looked a little disappointed.
If he didn’t usually enjoy chatting with girls, Jiang Cheng would’ve started to doubt his orientation.
“Wanna go to the cafeteria?”
“No need, I brought lunch.”
It was something Mom had made especially for her, and Jiang Cheng was actually looking forward to seeing what was inside.
“So lucky. Our school food’s fine, but it gets boring after a while. If only we could eat out. I know a few good places.”
Wang Yu kept talking.
Jiang Cheng ignored him and carefully opened her lunchbox.
Inside were sweet and sour ribs, rolled omelets, and bok choy.
Mom got up early just to make this for me… it’s warm, deep inside, she thought, her chest softening.
“Hey, sis, that lunch looks good.”
Wang Yu’s eyes were practically glowing.
“Aren’t you going to the cafeteria?”
Jiang Cheng raised a protective arm over her food.
Wang Yu rubbed the back of his head sheepishly.
“Alright, alright.”
He turned to leave, but Jiang Cheng stopped him.
“And don’t call me ‘sis’… It’s weird. Just call me by my name.”
“But your name sounds exactly like Jiang Ge’s. Feels weird calling you that.”
Jiang Cheng froze, her almond-shaped eyes staring straight at him.
That look made Wang Yu uneasy—like being stared down by his aunt.
“Then… I’ll call you Sister Orange instead.”
Jiang Cheng was speechless, but she didn’t argue.
Seeing her tacit approval, Wang Yu relaxed, called “Sister Orange” twice more, then ran off toward the cafeteria.
Any later and there’d be no food left.
Jiang Cheng quietly finished the meal.
Maybe it was this body’s metabolism, but finishing the lunch made her feel bloated.
She rubbed her stomach, thinking of taking a walk around the playground.
Just as she was about to stand, she heard the sound of footsteps from the back door.
“Ya, Chengcheng, you didn’t go to the cafeteria?”
It was the class monitor, Chen Ting, and another girl.
They walked in arm-in-arm, spotting Jiang Cheng immediately.
Chen Ting was of medium height, with round glasses and a ponytail.
Her cheeks were soft and dimpled when she smiled.
The other girl was taller, slender, with a graceful figure and an oval face.
Her peach-blossom eyes and straight nose, paired with long, flowing hair, gave off a mature aura beyond her age.
“I brought my own lunch.”
Jiang Cheng lifted her lunchbox and tucked it into the insulated bag.
“You can come with us tomorrow. The cafeteria food’s not that bad! I’m Chen Ting, the class monitor. This is Zhou Qingying, our arts committee member.”
They sat in front of Jiang Cheng. Zhou Qingying was the same girl who’d once asked about her skincare products.
Chen Ting figured the transfer student was still shy around classmates.
She rarely spoke first herself, but something about this girl drew her in.
She’s kind of like the class genius, Jiang Cheng, Chen Ting thought.
Both had that cool, distant temperament, as if nothing around them truly mattered.
But Jiang Cheng’s features were softer, more approachable—her aloof air somehow gentler.
Up close, it was impossible to look at anything else.
Chen Ting found herself staring until Jiang Cheng waved a hand in front of her face.
That blank, expressionless gaze made Chen Ting blush.
She ducked behind Zhou Qingying, peeking out with only her eyes visible.
Zhou Qingying sighed, embarrassed on her friend’s behalf, and smiled apologetically at Jiang Cheng.
Still… Jiang Cheng was beautiful.
Zhou Qingying felt something stir—a wistful envy for such effortless grace.
What would her smile look like?
“Teacher Ma said this morning you’re here on a trial transfer. Are you moving to our school permanently?”
Zhou Qingying asked, breaking the silence.
“Not sure yet…”
Jiang Cheng mumbled.
She didn’t want to get too close to anyone.
Getting involved was risky—and once her task ended, she’d probably disappear from their lives entirely.
Better to keep some distance.
“I see. Well, lucky timing. We have an arts festival this week. Every class is putting on a show. You’re so pretty… I think there’s a role that really suits you,” Zhou said, eyes sparkling.
The festival was a big deal—complete with performances, awards, and class points. Teachers took it seriously.
Jiang Cheng hadn’t cared about such events before, but now the idea made her uneasy.
She wanted to decline, but Zhou’s hopeful look made her hesitate.
As Jiang Cheng, she could easily refuse.
As Jiang Chen, though… being too cold might seem off.
Am I… really considering joining?
The thought startled her.
This new identity seemed to be reshaping her thoughts in small, strange ways.
“Then it’s settled!”
Zhou grabbed Jiang Cheng’s hand.
The soft, cool touch lingered.
Zhou was reluctant to let go.
Jiang Cheng quietly withdrew her hand.
“Fine.”
Her tone was reluctant, but she agreed nonetheless.
“Great! I’ll tell Teacher Ma. She’ll be thrilled to have you in the play.”
Zhou jumped up, her radiant smile showing a little tiger tooth.
Just one week, Jiang Cheng told herself. I can endure one week.
“What role do you want me to play?”
“Hehe…”
Zhou’s grin turned mischievous.
That can’t be good, Jiang Cheng thought.
“The female lead. We haven’t picked one yet, and I think you’d be perfect.”
“We’re performing Romeo and Juliet, the balcony confession scene,” Chen Ting added enthusiastically.
“And who’s playing Romeo?”
Jiang Cheng frowned slightly.
Zhou looked suddenly wounded. Jiang Cheng blinked.
“Hm?”
“It’s a gender-swapped version,” Chen Ting explained, nudging her friend.
“The male lead is Yingying—uh, that’s Qingying’s nickname.”
“Sorry,” Jiang Cheng said quickly, realizing her mistake.
“I thought it’d be with a guy…”
Even acting opposite a girl was awkward enough, but a romantic scene with a boy?
Absolutely not.
Zhou’s smile returned.
She waved it off.
“No offense taken.”
“Alright then, Tingting, give Chengcheng the script. I’ll go talk to Teacher Ma.”
Girls made friends fast.
Before Jiang Cheng realized it, she’d been absorbed into their little circle.
So this is what having female friends feels like…
She’d never really had friends, except maybe the chatterbox Wang Yu.
Carefully, Jiang Cheng opened the A4-bound script. It felt heavier than it looked.
Something warm filled the hollow space in my chest, she thought.
A quiet, unfamiliar warmth I didn’t know I needed.