Zhou Linxiao’s tone made it easy to imagine a man asking, “What are you doing with my wife?” and the other man—the mistress—responding shamelessly, “I’m having an affair with your wife.”
Bo Jiangxin said nothing, glancing briefly at Zhou Linxiao’s abs.
Zhou Linxiao noticed the other’s impassive gaze, as if to him, Zhou was nothing more than a few bland chunks of chicken breast.
Raising an eyebrow slightly, Zhou Linxiao said, “Xiang Di said my abs are handsome. Want to touch them too?”
—Your wife said having an affair with me feels great. Want to join us?
Bo Jiangxin glanced indifferently at Xiang Di.
Xiang Di felt a little guilty.
People who love fitness are never shy about showing off their bodies because it’s the best proof of their discipline and good health.
If they get compliments, all the better.
Zhou Linxiao had voluntarily shown Xiang Di his abs—no ulterior motives, no dirty thoughts—purely a show and admiration.
If it were Liang Qianqian now, she’d definitely say, “I want to see too, I want to see too.” If it were Ye Minjia, he’d surely say, “Bro, your abs are really good. Let me touch them too,” and happily appreciate them alongside Xiang Di.
But this wasn’t either of those two—it was Bo Jiangxin, her secret crush.
It wasn’t like they were caught red-handed; she and Bo Jiangxin weren’t that kind of relationship.
It felt more like being caught starstruck by the object of one’s affection.
Xiang Di smiled awkwardly, unable to deny the earlier compliment in front of Zhou Linxiao. Her smile was a bit dry: “They are pretty handsome.”
“Really? Then keep going.” Bo Jiangxin then said to Zhou Linxiao, “I’ll pass, no interest.”
He had no interest in Zhou Linxiao’s abs, nor in joining their little affair.
Zhou Linxiao had the kind of half-breed face kissed by the gods, high emotional intelligence, smooth talker, popular wherever he went—and yet he had never been so coldly rejected.
His olive-toned eyes darkened as he put on his shirt, lips still smiling. “Seems like Bo has no interest in fitness. But I get it, with classes and exams every day keeping you so busy, who has the time to work out?”
Bo Jiangxin ignored him, dropped his bag onto his seat, and started morning self-study.
Xiang Di thought Zhou Linxiao’s words made sense and nodded in agreement. “No wonder I see those foreign high school boys online all looking so fit, but in our country, they’re all scrawny.”
“That’s because foreign high schools have lighter academic pressure, so they don’t have to sit in classrooms all day and have plenty of time for outdoor activities.” Zhou Linxiao shrugged. “Different national conditions, different education methods—each has its pros and cons.”
Xiang Di muttered, “But I see a lot of university guys who don’t look good either…”
Zhou Linxiao chuckled, “Then it just means they’re lazy. You can’t blame the school or education system for that.”
He then tilted his head slightly and said to Bo Jiangxin across two desks, “Bo, your grades are good, but being a man with just good grades isn’t enough. After the college entrance exam, if you’re interested in fitness, I can recommend a gym and help you bulk up. I guarantee you’ll look way better than now.”
Bo Jiangxin frowned.
Though Zhou Linxiao’s suggestion to work out after the college entrance exam was delivered very gently, Bo Jiangxin heard the hidden meaning—both praise and criticism.
Actually, from the first meeting, he had already sensed from Zhou Linxiao’s inner voice that he wasn’t as friendly as he appeared.
The inner voice wasn’t automatically translated; Zhou Linxiao’s was in Spanish, and Bo Jiangxin remembered the tone and pronunciation roughly.
Looking it up later, he found this half-breed was not only arrogant but also very self-important.
He loved being admired, playing the “Social Emperor.” If everyone around was weaker, then he was naturally the center of attention, and he didn’t hesitate to show kindness to all.
But Bo Jiangxin clearly wasn’t in that category. Even though Zhou Linxiao had won most people’s favor in a short time, this was still a domestic high school where scores ruled. No matter the social skills, when it came to the most respected figure in Fourteenth High School, it was still the Study God-level Bo Jiangxin.
Bo Jiangxin ignored Zhou Linxiao, but he heard Xiang Di say moved, “You’re just too nice.”
Bo Jiangxin thought: stupid groundhog.
“Just a casual suggestion. Whether or not to work out depends on Bo himself. If he doesn’t want to, my suggestion is pointless.” Zhou Linxiao suddenly remembered, “Oh, didn’t you just miss touching my abs?”
Xiang Di remembered too: “Right.”
Just now, Bo Jiangxin appeared out of nowhere, and she’d forgotten.
Zhou Linxiao looked around; in these few minutes, quite a few people had come into the classroom.
“How about after the flag-raising ceremony? There are too many people now; I’m a little shy.”
Though he loved showing off his body, he wasn’t an exhibitionist.
Anyway, since Xiang Di already had the chance to admire, whether she touched or not really didn’t matter. She said, “It’s fine, it’s fine. Just being able to see is enough for me.”
“Just looking is enough?” Zhou Linxiao smiled at the corner of his mouth. “Are you sure?”
Xiang Di’s answer was suddenly drowned out by the sound of a heavy object hitting the floor.
A backpack was thrown precisely onto Bo Jiangxin’s desk, followed by a proud shout: “Perfect three-pointer! Yes!”
It was Wang Sicheng, that idiot.
Bo Jiangxin shot him a displeased look.
Wang Sicheng was not only talkative but also clueless about reading the room. Seeing Bo Jiangxin staring at him, he nervously touched his face and asked, “Why are you looking at me like that? I didn’t wash my face this morning. Is it that obvious?”
The scent.
Bo Jiangxin withdrew his gaze and rubbed his temples heavily.
Why did he even ask the Class Teacher to change seats back then, switching Xiang Di for Wang Sicheng, this idiot?
Whether Wang Sicheng washed his face was none of his business, but at least Xiang Di’s face was always fair and clean, and she even smelled faintly of Baby Milk Cream.
Between the unwashed Wang Sicheng and the outwardly sweet-smelling but inwardly scheming Xiang Di, the stark contrast made Bo Jiangxin finally admit he’d made a stupid move.
With Wang Sicheng blocking the middle, Bo Jiangxin could only turn his head slightly.
Before he got a good look, more noise filled his ears.
“Ahhh, bro, quick, quick, let me copy your math exam paper. I got too into gaming last night and forgot to do it. Hurry, hurry, it’s about to be handed in!”
Ye Minjia sprinted into the classroom and went straight to Bo Jiangxin, grabbed his backpack, and started rifling through it without a word.
Hearing Ye Minjia’s shout, Wang Sicheng suddenly remembered too, shouting, “Damn! I forgot to do it as well, let me copy! Thanks, thanks!”
Seeing Ye Minjia mess up the bag searching for the paper, making it a complete mess, Bo Jiangxin sighed, impatiently snatched the bag, and found the math exam paper with precision. He tossed it to Ye Minjia: “Get lost.”
The Citywide First Place Exam Paper was priceless—throwing it around was like throwing five million.
Ye Minjia took the paper with satisfaction and left, taking Wang Sicheng along.
“Class Monitor, don’t be so selfish. Let’s copy together!”
Bo Jiangxin’s ears finally had some peace.
But it was too late; Zhou Linxiao was already chatting with others, and Xiang Di was alone reciting classical Chinese essays.
Bo Jiangxin frowned.
So what exactly did she answer Zhou Linxiao? Should she still touch Zhou Linxiao’s abs or not?
This question lingered until after the Flag-raising Ceremony. When everyone returned to the classroom for the first class, Bo Jiangxin still hadn’t gotten an answer.
The first class was Language.
At this stage, raising Language scores was very difficult; those who could score high would naturally do so, and those who couldn’t wouldn’t, so there was no need for much teaching.
The Language Teacher directly handed out a set of exam papers for everyone to work on by themselves.
Much like self-study, some people quietly worked on other subjects’ papers during this time. The Language Teacher sat at the podium and didn’t bother to intervene.
Doing homework for other subjects was still learning, but playing on the phone was another matter.
But if the person playing on their phone was Bo Jiangxin, how would the teacher react?
Admittedly, even Bo Jiangxin’s phone usage posture was more proper than others—open and aboveboard, one hand holding the phone, the other lightly propping his chin, wearing his usual stern expression with furrowed brows.
The Language Teacher hesitated a long time but finally said nothing.
It probably wasn’t funny short videos—who watches those with such a serious face?
Maybe Bo Jiangxin was looking up information on his phone?
She didn’t even verify it but convinced herself nonetheless.
She trusted Bo Jiangxin; he wasn’t the type to disregard classroom discipline.
His phone had a privacy filter; even Wang Sicheng didn’t know what he was watching, only that Bo Jiangxin was extremely focused.
Only Bo Jiangxin knew he was watching a borderline video of a male internet celebrity.