Chapter 23: Heart in Turmoil

Jiang Yueming didn’t know how he had left the infirmary.

He only remembered that when he came out, his cheeks were burning unbearably hot. 

His walking posture felt stiff, and his limbs suddenly didn’t know which direction to swing.

It shouldn’t be like this…

He asked himself inwardly as he walked.

Last week when they went out to play, he had clearly held Xia He’s hand already. 

Although his heartbeat had been a bit fast then, at least he had kept his face under control. But today…

He patted his cheeks, trying to slap away those unnecessary thoughts.

So embarrassing today.

He cursed to himself, then reached the classroom door.

“Reporting.”

The homeroom teacher was writing on the blackboard with his back to the class. 

Hearing him, Mr. Zhou turned his head and looked over from behind his glasses.

“Come in.”

Jiang Yueming lowered his head and quickly walked toward his seat.

The distance from the classroom door to the last row was only a dozen or so steps, but today that path felt exceptionally long.

Countless gazes pricked at his back like needles—some from the left, some from the right, some slanting over from the back rows. They were dense and inescapable.

One of them was particularly heavy, as if someone was staring fixedly at him. 

Jiang Yueming subconsciously followed that gaze and discovered it was Lu Renjia.

From the moment he appeared at the door until he sat down, the other boy’s eyes had remained locked firmly on him.

Jiang Yueming frowned and hurried to his seat.

As soon as he sat down, Dong Ziyang immediately leaned over. 

He quickly glanced at the teacher who was lecturing with his back turned, then lowered his voice.

“Why were you in the infirmary for so long? Be honest—did you do something naughty?”

“I just applied some medicine for her.” 

Jiang Yueming’s expression didn’t change.

“Applying medicine takes a whole break?” 

Dong Ziyang clearly didn’t believe it. 

“What kind of medicine did you apply? The kind that makes you blush?”

Jiang Yueming ignored him and pulled his textbook out of the desk drawer.

Dong Ziyang refused to give up and leaned closer. “Where was Xia He hurt?”

“Her hand and knee.”

“And then you applied medicine for her?”

“…Mm.”

“If it was just applying medicine, why is your face so red?”

Jiang Yueming’s hand flipping through the pages paused.

“I’m not blushing.”

Dong Ziyang extended a finger and poked his cheek. “You say you’re not, but feel your own face. The moment I saw you, I thought Lord Guan had walked in.”

Jiang Yueming slapped his hand away and lowered his voice. 

“Shut up. If you ask any more, I’ll…”

“Fine, fine, I know what you’re going to say.” 

Dong Ziyang raised his hands in surrender, but the sly grin at the corner of his mouth refused to fade. 

“I’m just happy for you. A girl like Xia He actually has this kind of connection with you.”

“We don’t have any kind of relationship.” Jiang Yueming interrupted him, his tone firm.

Dong Ziyang looked at him. 

His eyes suddenly turned serious, unlike the usual giggling fatty.

His eyes narrowed slightly.

The pupils reflected Jiang Yueming’s face as he examined him carefully, making Jiang Yueming feel a little uncomfortable.

“Old Jiang, tell me the truth.” His voice dropped lower. 

“Do you really feel nothing at all toward Xia He?”

Jiang Yueming’s fingers stopped on the page.

The noise in the classroom suddenly seemed far away. 

Outside the window, someone was shouting on the sports field, the sound muffled by the glass.

He recalled Xia He grabbing his hand and saying “Your hands are so big,” interlocking her fingers one by one into his, then saying “Look, our hands fit together perfectly.”

His heartbeat sped up uncontrollably again.

“…I don’t know,” he said.

Dong Ziyang stared at him for two seconds, then sighed deeply. 

The sigh was world-weary, like an old monk who had seen through the mortal realm.

“You,” he patted Jiang Yueming’s shoulder, “are just too much of a coward.”

Jiang Yueming didn’t refute it, because Dong Ziyang was right.

He was indeed a coward.

He was afraid that once he overthought it and dove in headfirst, he would never be able to pull back out.

So he said he didn’t know.

Not knowing was the safest answer.

On the platform, the homeroom teacher continued going over the test paper. 

The chalk tapped against the blackboard with a steady rhythm, but Jiang Yueming didn’t hear a single word. 

His gaze drifted involuntarily toward the front row.

Wen Xiaoyu sat there, back straight, her braided pigtails resting quietly on her school uniform.

She didn’t turn around.

From the moment Jiang Yueming entered the classroom until now, she had not looked back once.

Jiang Yueming sat in his chair, lost in chaotic thoughts, and the class period passed quickly.

When the bell for the end of class rang, Jiang Yueming realized he hadn’t absorbed a single word. 

He buried his face in his arms and lay on the desk, his mind still a complete mess.

Dong Ziyang was called to the office to move some books. 

Before leaving, he winked at him and muttered something like “Good luck, bro,” but Jiang Yueming didn’t catch it clearly and had no interest in listening.

The students around him gathered in small groups to chat. 

Their gazes still drifted toward him from time to time.

Jiang Yueming sighed, closed his eyes, and prepared to pretend to nap for a while.

The moment his eyelids shut, he sensed someone standing in front of his desk.

A shadow fell over him. He frowned—surely it wasn’t Lu Renjia coming to cause trouble again?

Jiang Yueming felt a wave of irritation and looked up, only to find that the person was Wen Xiaoyu.

She was holding a workbook, her two braided pigtails hanging quietly in front of her chest. 

Her expression was calm, revealing no clear emotion.

“Your homework.”

Jiang Yueming paused, then remembered what had happened during the previous break.

“Oh, wait a second.”

He rummaged through his messy desk drawer for a moment, quickly pulled out a workbook, and handed it to her.

Wen Xiaoyu took it, flipped it open, and glanced inside before looking up.

“Did you do it?”

“I did.”

“This is what you wrote?”

Jiang Yueming leaned over to look and fell silent.

On the page for today’s homework, he had only written one line: Can’t do it.

Wen Xiaoyu looked at him with a mix of helplessness and amusement. 

She shook the workbook in her hand. 

“This is your homework? If you turn this in, the homeroom teacher will scold you to death.”

Jiang Yueming scratched his head. “I really couldn’t do it.”

“If you can’t do a question, you can just leave it blank. Why write ‘Can’t do it’?”

Jiang Yueming answered honestly. 

“I couldn’t do any of them. I was afraid you’d think I didn’t even try when you collected the homework, so I wrote that.”

Wen Xiaoyu stared at those three words for a while, then closed the workbook and put it away.

“I’ll take a look at it for you later,” she said. “After school, tell me which parts you don’t understand and I’ll help you review them.”

“There’s no need. I…”

Before Jiang Yueming could finish, Wen Xiaoyu had already turned and walked away.

She left quickly, without giving him any chance to refuse. 

Jiang Yueming opened his mouth, watching her back disappear through the classroom door, and could only swallow the rest of his words.

He lay back down on the desk, burying his face in his arms once more.

His mind was a chaotic mess. The moment he closed his eyes, two images kept flashing in his head.

One was the sight of their tightly clasped hands in the infirmary with Xia He.

The other was the image of Wen Xiaoyu blocking his path at the classroom door.

The two scenes alternated like slides switching back and forth in his mind, leaving him restless and distracted.

“I’m done for.”

He buried his face deeper and cried out silently in his arms.

“I’m done for, I’m done for, I’m done for.”