Ji Angran was used to following his own study pace and had always kept a distant relationship with his classmates. To him, there was no real difference between the competition class and the regular class—he preferred staying in his own little world, believing that was the only way to feel comfortable and at ease.
But peaceful days rarely lasted long. Even the stillest lake eventually gets disturbed by thrown stones.
Not long after the school term started, Zhang Chuchu called Ji Angran to the office and asked if he’d be willing to take on the role of class study representative.
His first reaction, of course, was to say no. He had never imagined a role like that would fall to someone like him.
He was naturally not good at socializing and didn’t have a strong personality—definitely not class study representative material.
“Teacher, I…”
He opened his mouth to refuse, but Zhang Chuchu cut him off. “Your grades are good, but you barely speak to the other students. Being the class study representative is a great way to challenge yourself. You should give it a try.”
“But…”
“Just try it. Give yourself a chance to grow.”
“Teacher, I…”
“How about we just try it for a month? If it really doesn’t work out, come talk to me.”
Ji Angran wanted to say more, but it was obvious Zhang Chuchu had already made up his mind. In the end, the two agreed that Ji Angran would try it for a month, and if it didn’t work, someone else would take over.
He walked out of the office in a daze. Even after half the day had passed, it still felt like a dream—completely unreal.
That evening, Zhang Chuchu had each class committee member introduce themselves on stage as a formal way of taking office. When Ji Angran returned to his seat, Qiu Ruifeng raised an eyebrow at him and said, “Hey, not bad, friend.”
Ji Angran glanced at him blankly, wanting to say something but not knowing how. In the end, he just lowered his gaze. He hadn’t meant to be unfriendly, but his expression made Qiu Ruifeng feel confused.
All the people Qiu Ruifeng hung out with were the loud, easygoing type, and he’d never encountered someone like Ji Angran before. He was totally lost, not understanding why Ji Angran seemed so cold.
“Why does he seem mad?” Qiu Ruifeng scratched his head and muttered to himself, “I didn’t even say anything…”
Even the most outgoing person doesn’t like being met with a cold shoulder. Qiu Ruifeng couldn’t figure out Ji Angran’s temperament, so he stopped trying to talk to him. After all, he had plenty of friends—losing one or two wouldn’t matter.
As for Ji Angran, he’d tried several times to strike up a conversation with Qiu Ruifeng, but he was naturally tongue-tied and couldn’t think of a single topic to talk about. Watching Qiu Ruifeng laughing and joking with others every day only wore down the little courage he had. In the end, he could only lower his head and keep telling himself to focus on studying and not waste time.
A few days passed in a blur. The students in class gradually became familiar with each other—sharing meals, laughing together. Only Qiu Ruifeng and Ji Angran, despite being deskmates, still barely spoke.
Ji Angran thought of what his mother had said: that he should make more friends at school.
But he wondered, how could someone as dull and uninteresting as him ever have friends?
Dragging on like this, a week passed since he had become a study representative.
Though he hadn’t wanted the role, once he took on a responsibility, he always did his best.
Fortunately, the students in the competition class were quite self-disciplined. Everyone was focused on exams and had little interest in goofing around. With help from the teachers, he could manage it.
That evening, as usual, the class was having a self-study period. The fans hummed loudly, and the air was so humid and hot it felt like you could wring water from it. The sound of pages flipping echoed through the classroom, and Ji Angran kept reviewing his notebook of past mistakes.
Summer weather was fickle. One moment the sky was clear, the next it was covered in dark clouds.
In the time it took for a breeze to blow, the sweltering heat seemed to vanish. A bolt of lightning split the sky, lighting everything up like broad daylight. Thunder boomed, and without warning, heavy rain began to pour.
The pounding rain carried the smell of soil and humidity, cooling down the stuffy classroom in an instant—even people’s hearts seemed to cool with it.
“Sh*t!”
The classroom grew restless.
“I didn’t bring an umbrella—how are we supposed to go home like this?!”
“Me neither!”
“Crap, my electric scooter’s outside the shed!”
“Hey, you—did you bring an umbrella? Let’s walk home together tonight!”
…
The room buzzed with chatter, voices mingling with the rain in a noisy mess.
Ji Angran sat at his desk, his slender, pale neck tilted upward like a graceful swan, but his expression was full of hesitation.
He glanced at the class president’s seat—it was empty. Then he looked at the class discipline representative, who was chatting with someone, planning to hitch a ride home.
Ji Angran bit his lip and reached toward the thick dictionary in his drawer, but hesitated.
Should he try to maintain order?
Would anyone even listen to him?
Even the discipline representative wasn’t saying anything—was it his place to speak?
…But this was his duty as a class committee member.
As the classroom grew noisier, Ji Angran closed his eyes and slammed the dictionary onto his desk. “Quiet!”
Bang!
The room fell silent for a second—or maybe it just seemed that way. Then came more laughter, especially from a boy nearby. It was piercing.
Ji Angran’s face went pale. His hands didn’t know where to go, and his lips moved, eyes scanning the classroom, but nothing came out. His throat felt stuck.
What should he do?
What now?
Should he yell again?
But it seemed like no one would listen.
“Everyone shut the hell up—this is still study time!”
Just when Ji Angran was about to despair, Qiu Ruifeng’s voice rang out like a gift from heaven.
He yelled with full force, annoyed, “If you wanna talk, go outside! Don’t you know to be quiet during self-study?!”
Ji Angran’s heart skipped a beat—and then sped up.
Qiu Ruifeng had a naturally intimidating presence: tall, sturdy, with a fierce look. No one dared mess with him. The moment he shouted, the classroom instantly fell into dead silence. Only the thunder outside and the unrelenting rain remained.
Ji Angran quickly recovered and added, “Um, it’s still self-study period right now. Everyone, please don’t talk.”
The discipline representative finally remembered his job and called out, “Everyone, be quiet! The homeroom teacher will be here any minute!”
Qiu Ruifeng flipped open his workbook with a loud rustle and began writing, completely focused. The others exchanged looks for a few seconds before falling silent as well.
The room returned to peace. The faint whispers died out altogether soon after.
The discipline representative resumed his duties, occasionally coughing to maintain order. Ji Angran let out a quiet breath and glanced toward Qiu Ruifeng. Qiu Ruifeng was chewing on his pen, scribbling away, looking perfectly at ease—as if nothing had happened.
Ji Angran bit his lip. He felt like he ought to say something. So he wrote “Thank you” on his scratch paper and slowly pushed it toward Qiu Ruifeng.
Sensing movement on the desk, Qiu Ruifeng looked up casually and saw Ji Angran’s pale, youthful face, lips slightly bitten, looking a bit nervous. Then his eyes fell on the word “Thank you” clearly written on the clean page.
The handwriting was incredibly neat—precise, tidy, almost too perfect for a high schooler. It looked more like the kind of careful penmanship a primary school student would use when hoping to be praised by a teacher. Every stroke had been done with care.
“No problem,” Qiu Ruifeng replied nonchalantly. Honestly, he’d just been annoyed by the noise—he hadn’t really meant to stick up for Ji Angran. But now, he suddenly thought this quiet, closed-off seatmate was actually kind of cute.
Trying to make small talk, he said, “Ahem, your handwriting’s pretty nice.”
His voice held a hint of amusement, his tone lifting slightly at the end. Ji Angran mumbled a thank you, then quickly pulled the notebook back and went back to doing his exercises.
Outside, the rain kept pouring. The sound of it hitting the windows formed a barrier, shutting out all other noise. A damp, chilly breeze drifted through the classroom.
And yet, for some reason, Ji Angran’s face felt a little warm.