Chapter 64: Scene of the review

Suddenly remembering Luo Yu’s status as a Mu Nanqiu fangirl, Su Yao, who had originally felt a slight fondness because Luo Yu admired her work, immediately lost all interest at the thought of Luo Yu having called herself a fan of Mu Nanqiu. Fondness?

Gone in an instant!

Su Yao felt there was no chance of building any sort of connection between them.

She snorted lightly and pouted.

“Not bad, I guess. But I don’t like writing about Mu Upperclassman and Flower Upperclassman, because apart from a plain, ordinary friendship between them, there’s nothing else!”

“Huh? Then who does Mu Upperclassman like?”

Luo Yu blinked her eyes.

It was true she loved Teacher Mantou’s books and was quite into the Mu Upperclassman x Flower Upperclassman ship, but she also understood reality clearly.

Although Flower Upperclassman usually seemed gentle, she was fierce when it counted.

There were no signs on Mu Upperclassman’s part to indicate she wasn’t the same.

So, like poles repel, at best they could be ordinary friends, but it was hard to get any closer.

Only in novels could one imagine otherwise.

She thought Su Yao’s logic made sense, but after Su Yao dismissed it, she grew even more curious about who Mu Nanqiu really liked—or maybe Nanqiu didn’t like humans at all?

No, she didn’t mean she liked other species.

She meant she simply had no desire in that aspect.

A celibate type, tsk tsk~

Luo Yu fantasized a little in her head and drooled nonstop, her auntie-like smile refusing to fade.

That expression, that state, genuinely scared Su Yao.

She had thought her words would douse Luo Yu with a bucket of cold water, but instead this girl became even more excited. Incredible!

Stay calm, stay calm…

Su Yao looked carefully at Luo Yu’s face—which could be called above average—and pondered how to respond.

Overall, Luo Yu looked like a somewhat sloppy homebody: not meticulous in grooming, no makeup, short, messy hair as if she’d just rolled out of bed and run her hands through it a couple of times before heading out.

Acne dotted her cheeks, dark circles under her eyes, and her clothes were similar in style to Su Yao’s—their fashion sense was on par.

Then thinking about herself, at least her hair was well-maintained.

Though she often wore a large hat covering her head, her long hair was smooth and straight, without a single split end or frizz.

Running her fingers through it was effortless.

Mu Nanqiu loved to stroke her hair.

Thinking this, Su Yao raised her proud little chin and coquettishly said, “Anyway, I wouldn’t like you.”

“Hmm…”

Luo Yu had some self-awareness.

For an ordinary girl like her, the only place she might come into contact with someone like Mu Nanqiu was at school.

Years from now, if anyone asked what her relationship with Mu Nanqiu was, she could only say they graduated from the same university, and even that was a stretch—there was really no connection.

So Luo Yu shrugged and said indifferently, “I don’t care about that. I just like Upperclassman’s looks. She’s exactly my type~”

Su Yao’s eyes widened.

Someone actually could operate beyond normal logic like that?

Was that even reasonable?!

Reasonable or not, it left Su Yao dumbfounded.

She never expected Luo Yu to say that, but on second thought, Su Yao herself had been pretty similar back then—very into Mu Nanqiu’s appearance, often daydreaming about her in her head.

Of course, Su Yao’s thoughts were pure and never crossed into anything inappropriate.

Looking at this somewhat goofy Luo Yu, Su Yao squinted slightly and said seriously, “If we don’t mention Mu Upperclassman, then we can be friends.”

“Huh? Okay, then what about Yan Upperclassman, Ji Upperclassman, Yu Upperclassman…”

“Stop!”

Su Yao’s mouth twitched as she said irritably, “Why are they all ‘Upperclassman’?”

“…”

Luo Yu looked at Su Yao as if she were an idiot.

Su Yao didn’t understand at first but took a moment to figure it out.

Then she realized she and Luo Yu were probably two sides of the same coin.

Why is it always “Upperclassman”?

Because I’m the underclassman myself!

Because she had just been silly, Su Yao now felt extremely awkward and hot all over.

She blamed the lack of ventilation in the classroom—so many people breathing in and out had made it warm. Yes, that was it.

“Ahem.”

To relieve the increasingly thick awkward atmosphere, Su Yao changed the subject and looked at Luo Yu’s hands with some curiosity.

“You make clothes?”

Luo Yu had told her she had been reported and then taken to do clothing work.

When Su Yao wrote scripts, she had seen materials on clothing design—three sets in total—which looked pretty good in the sketches, though she didn’t know how they turned out in reality.

In winter, Su Yao liked to tuck her hands inside her sleeves to keep warm, even with gloves on.

Luo Yu naturally did the same.

Seeing Su Yao glance at her hands, she took them out voluntarily.

Her hands looked a bit different from those of other girls her age—not rough from manual labor, but specialized in a certain way, very distinctive.

For example, her right thumb and index finger bore band-aids.

Su Yao was familiar with those band-aids; she had used them frequently until recently but didn’t need them as much now.

“Most of the time I use the sewing machine.

For the finer parts, I do them by hand.”

Luo Yu looked proud as she continued, “I haven’t brought out my clothes before, but this time for the review, Su Yao, you should take lots of pictures.”

Her eyes sparkled—this was probably something she truly loved.

Su Yao nodded lightly and gave a soft “Mm,” agreeing to Luo Yu’s request.

As they chatted, Zhang Li arrived.

She first checked if everyone had gathered.

Some were still missing; a few arrived five or six minutes late and were naturally scolded upon entry.

Despite this, they still wore cheeky smiles.

Zhang Li didn’t waste much time and quickly quieted everyone down to deliver a brief Sworn Oath Speech.

Then the classroom slowly filled with tension.

They were eager and excited.

They had poured so much effort and time into today’s performance.

Now it was time for the exam phase, which felt like a flashback to half a year ago facing the college entrance exams.

Of course, it was much more relaxed now—not so nerve-wracking—but they all hoped their hard work wouldn’t be in vain.

Zhang Li said little more, fearing she might jinx it.

The saying “Failure is the mother of success” was consolation for losers.

What they wanted now was success, a spirit of “Who dares challenge me!” and confidence in themselves.

Still, she silently pinched her palm.

She’d seen previous years’ performances—they were all outstanding in every way.

They might need just a little bit of luck.

Su Yao was infected by the tense atmosphere, her legs beginning to shake.

She was the true author of the script.

Her work had reached a decisive moment—would it end here, or take the stage for all to see?

Today’s the day to find out.

Not even the college entrance exams had made her heart race like this.

But now, her heartbeat accelerated with anticipation for the future.

Unconsciously, the classroom grew quiet.

Sorting issues delayed them, and it was only after an hour that Zhang Li received notice to prepare.

Their turn would come in half an hour.

“Target: indoor badminton court, let’s go!”

At Zhang Li’s command, the entire class erupted, rushing to gather their pre-assigned items.

Under efficient organization, they exited the activity room.

The boys carried the heavier cardboard props—which, though called cardboard, were still somewhat heavy—while the girls carried miscellaneous items.

Su Yao was in charge of taking photos.

She left first but stayed at the back, filming the whole time.

Some lively boys grinned at the camera as they left.

Su Yao hadn’t planned to take photos, but with them smiling, she felt awkward not to.

She ended up snapping over fifty pictures.

Su Yao stayed last, with Zhang Li leading the group. Luo Yu walked alongside her.

When they arrived at the indoor badminton court, many people were already lined up at the entrance.

They found a spot to prepare the items they could get ready ahead of time.

Small cardboard props were unfolded and assembled.

Various minor details were addressed.

If they waited to prepare until their number was called, rushing would inevitably cause mistakes, which would affect their final score.

If they failed the review because of this, they wouldn’t sleep well that night.

Because there were time limits, each performance had to be controlled around five minutes, no longer than ten.

Going over meant point deductions.

Fortunately, after days of adjustment, their original content, which exceeded ten minutes, was compressed to seven.

Before long, the previous club finished their review.

Their relaxed expressions showed good results, which made the following teams feel there was little room left, even though it was only the first day of review.

When it was finally Su Yao’s class’s turn—more than half an hour later—the wait was far more agonizing than in the classroom.

Zhang Li repeatedly tried to ease the heavy atmosphere.

Pressure could be motivation or a burden.

At first, she tried a word or a joke, but those tactics gradually lost effect.

Seeing the students’ solemn faces, Zhang Li grew nervous too.

It was her first time leading students, but she couldn’t panic first.

She had to hold firm so the pressure wouldn’t transfer to the students.

To avoid a meltdown under such heavy mental stress, Zhang Li came up with a plan: a group photo.

Of course, not now.

They would agree to take a big group photo after the performance, then have free shooting time.

With that idea in mind, Zhang Li’s gaze settled on Su Yao, quietly standing at the edge of the crowd.