Chapter 58: Tang Xiaoyu, So Impressive

The boy’s playful tone made Tang Yu’s heart beat uncontrollably faster. She tightened her grip on the railing and, after a few seconds, muttered awkwardly, “This isn’t really against my principles, is it? You’re the one who taught me that it’s okay to be a disobedient, thoughtless kid sometimes. I learned it all from you.”

Bian Yang curved his lips into a smile. “You’re quite good at applying what you’ve learned, Tang Xiaoyu.”

Hearing his approval, Tang Yu’s tense nerves inexplicably relaxed. She pressed her lips together, unable to stop herself from smiling. But then, after she finished laughing, she felt a little guilty—like it wasn’t right to be so cheerful after doing something wrong.

“But, this doesn’t really count as lying,” he said, tapping on his laptop.

Tang Yu hesitated. “It doesn’t count…?”

“Other people use cunning and deceit as weapons to attack, but your lies are a means to protect yourself. Sometimes, no matter how well-mannered you are, others won’t appreciate it. Even if you’re completely sincere, what you get in return might be someone else’s brazen disregard. So, it’s good to be a ‘bad person’ once in a while, to not always be so thoughtful, to not always be so accommodating—it’s good for others, and good for yourself.”

So, it could be like that.

It was the first time anyone had taught her this kind of wisdom about dealing with people—not just the simple “be a good, obedient child.”

“Bian Yang, I think you’re amazing,” she said seriously. “It’s like you know everything.”

“Tang Xiaoyu, you’re amazing too. You know how to take care of your sick grandparents, you’re always top of the class, you cook delicious food, you can bargain at the market—and in the future, you’ll shine brilliantly in the field you love… These are all things I can’t do.”

His long eyelashes lowered, his smile gentle.

“Tang Xiaoyu, you’re incredibly amazing.”

His voice was so gentle it was almost unreal.

Tang Yu blinked, her grip on the phone tightening as she gazed at the distant, flickering lights, looking a little dazed.

Her phone vibrated—it was a message from him on WeChat: a picture.

A photo of a thumbs-up.

It was one Bian Yang had just taken.

She opened the image.

The boy’s magnetic voice came through the receiver, carrying a faint smile. Even across the call, she could imagine how dazzling his smile must be:

“The kind of amazing that deserves a thumbs-up.”

The balcony was noisy—unidentified insects chirped, students in the dorm opposite shouted to vent their frustrations, and the security guards downstairs were cleaning puddles, the water splashing noisily.

Tang Yu looked down at the photo. The background was the living room’s low table, the boy’s fingers long and well-shaped.

She leaned back against the railing and squatted down. For some reason, her nose suddenly tingled, as if she might cry.

She didn’t know why she felt this way.

All she felt was an overwhelming warmth, like molten lava.

Tang Yu pushed down the sting in her heart, rubbed her eyes with the back of her hand, and said, “That’s not true. I’m not that amazing. Lots of people can do those things—I’m not special.”

“I can’t do them. My friends can’t either.” He laughed softly. “Tang Xiaoyu, nobody is perfect. Relax. Don’t compare your shortcomings to other people’s strengths. You’re wonderful, truly wonderful.”

His voice was gentle, full of soothing strength.

“Everyone has their own prime time. In the time zone that fate has prepared just for you, the kindness and gentleness you’ve accumulated will someday turn into surprises and good luck. So just keep moving forward, throw away all those bad emotions that hold you back. One day, you’ll get everything you wish for.”

Tang Yu quietly tucked these words into her heart.

When she hung up and lay in bed, her almond eyes sparkled with a constellation of stars.

She thought to herself, Bian Yang must be right.

Because he was the good luck she’d exchanged for with all her past kindness.

Bian Yang was the very best person in the world.

He taught her how to study, how to protect herself, how to deal with people…

Meeting Bian Yang was surely the greatest stroke of luck in her life.

——

Wang Qing had returned her quilt, but Tang Yu’s own was still a little damp, cold and impossible to warm. Yet she didn’t feel cold at all and slept soundly until dawn.

The homeroom teacher announced in the group chat that classes would proceed as normal today.

At the sound of the alarm, her roommates erupted in grumbling. But the complaints only lasted a moment before everyone started bustling about, washing up and gathering their things for morning self-study.

Tang Yu had slept well and looked even healthier. She washed her face, dabbed on a little baby cream, and hurried to the classroom.

When she arrived, Bian Yang wasn’t there—his seat was empty.

But her own desk was a mess.

The textbooks that had been neatly stacked on her desk were scattered all over the floor, her test papers crumpled into a ball and thrown everywhere.

Wang Qing had arrived earlier and was bent over, helping to pick up her books.

Tang Yu pressed her lips together, walked over, and squatted down next to her. “What happened? Who did this?”

Everyone else’s desks were just as they’d left them—only hers had been ransacked. It was clearly deliberate.

The classroom was abuzz with the noisy hum of morning reading.

Wang Qing glanced around and lowered her voice. “It was Meng Shirui. When I got here, she was rummaging through your desk for something—a piece of paper, I think. When she found it, she tore it up and left.”

Tang Yu’s eyes fell on the scraps of paper on the floor.

She picked up a corner—it was the application form for the math competition.

Her fingertips dug into her palm. She said nothing, just picked up her books, gently wiped the dust from them, and arranged them neatly on her desk.

A boy sitting in the front row turned around, knocked on her desk unceremoniously, and threw a test paper at her.

“Hey, Tang Yu, fill out this English test for me.”

The paper landed right in front of her.

Tang Yu’s lips pressed into a thin, straight line.

Her books were dirty and disordered, the test papers ripped, and now she was being ordered around so rudely.

Without thinking, she tossed his test paper back to him.

Then she lowered her head and carefully smoothed out her crumpled test papers.

She hadn’t had a chance to check the answers yet; the writing was smudged and there was a big hole in the paper. She’d have to use tape to repair it.

The boy in front threw the test back again. “Tang Yu, what’s your problem? Are you deaf? I told you to fill it out for me, and you threw it right back. The English teacher is coming to collect it! Hurry up and do it!”

Tang Yu took a deep breath and replied bluntly, “No.”

She had expected those two words to be hard to say, but they came out much more easily than she’d imagined, almost with a sense of relief.

She tossed his paper back to him once more.

“What?”

The boy scratched his ear, thinking the noise had made him mishear.

Tang Yu repeated, “I’m not doing it.”

Wang Qing, holding a book, turned her head in surprise, her eyes wide and round.

All this time, Tang Yu had tried hard to get along with her classmates. She’d never refused when anyone asked for help. She’d even quietly passed around slips of her answers during exams.

It was the first time she’d ever seen her so directly refuse someone!

The boy was stunned for a long moment, certain he hadn’t heard wrong this time.

Tang Yu was actually refusing to do his test paper?

“Why won’t you do it? You do it for everyone else—what’s wrong with doing it for me?”

Tang Yu lowered her lashes, laying out her test papers one by one. “Do your own test.”

The boy grew annoyed and took his test paper back. “Fine, I’ll do it myself. Lend me yours, I’ll just copy it.”

“No.”

She refused again, more smoothly each time.

Wang Qing hid half her astonished face behind her book, but her eyes couldn’t conceal her surprise.

Her deskmate, who had hardly ever said “no,” was finally standing up for herself! Was she possessed or something…?

No, no—Tang Yu had even dared to argue with the homeroom teacher yesterday. Refusing to let someone copy her answers was nothing in comparison.

“Hey, Tang Yu, why are you being so stingy? Letting me copy your test isn’t a big deal—you don’t lose anything!”

Wang Qing couldn’t help but chime in, “She doesn’t want you to copy, so why push it?”

The boy sneered, “It’s not like I’m copying yours, mind your own business.”

He glanced at Tang Yu and deliberately knocked her freshly arranged books askew.

“So what if you got first place? What’s there to be smug about?”

Tang Yu paused mid-movement, exhaled deeply, when suddenly, a lazy, unhurried voice sounded above her.

“First place is a big deal. With a brain like yours, even if you trained for a thousand years, you’d never get first place.”

The boy threw his backpack onto the desk, making a crisp sound. His loose white T-shirt revealed a toned, fair arm that seemed almost cold against the morning light.

He kept both hands in his pockets, eyes half-lowered in a lazy manner, glancing at the boy.

His dark eyes were deep and indifferent, his whole demeanor radiating an air of someone not to be messed with.

Rumors had been swirling these past few days that Bian Yang had gotten into a fight off campus and been taken to the police station. Even though he’d been released, everyone now saw him as a troublemaker.

He was already on the school forum as the new campus heartthrob and now, the new campus tyrant.

No one dared provoke him.

The boy immediately shrank back, muttering under his breath, and decided to let it go.

But Bian Yang spoke again, “Fix the books.”

He jerked his chin toward the pile of books—the meaning clear.

Suppressing his annoyance, the boy grudgingly straightened the books he’d just knocked over before turning away in frustration.