After Tan Jing took a step back, He Siheng steadied his footing and secretly breathed a sigh of relief. He pretended as if nothing had affected him at all, but he was still puzzled by Wang Yizhou’s behavior of rushing in and then rushing out again. “What was he running for?”
What was he running for? Upon stumbling into such an ambiguous scene, if he didn’t run, was he planning to see just how many watts of light he himself could emit?
Tan Jing calmly withdrew his pheromones and took out the barely used scent blocker from his pocket, spraying it twice. He replied carelessly, “No idea.”
He Siheng soon found out what Wang Yizhou had been running for.
During assembly, Zhou Yu approached again with that expression like he was about to shatter at any moment. He asked timidly, “Heng Bro, d-d-did you get into another fight with Tan Jing?”
He Siheng was baffled. “What do you mean ‘another’?”
When had he ever fought with Tan Jing?
Zhou Yu was beside himself with worry. “Someone saw you two fighting in the bathroom. Tan Jing grabbed you by the collar and pinched your face red!”
He Siheng: “…”
Zhou Yu suddenly changed the subject. “I heard Tan Jing even released his pheromones. Quick, let me smell if any stuck to you. Does it smell good?”
He Siheng: “…………”
He Siheng punched him hard. “Are you actually concerned about me or just his scent, you bastard!”
On the way to the assembly point from the other side.
“Do I look that violent?” Tan Jing’s calm tone carried a hint of sarcasm.
Wang Yizhou trembled as he stammered, “With that aura between you two, I really thought you were fighting…”
Who would have known it was just Tan Jing fixing He Siheng’s bow tie?
Who could have imagined that Tan Jing would so enthusiastically fix He Siheng’s bow tie???
Song Lin boldly voiced the doubt on Wang Yizhou’s behalf.
Tan Jing said indifferently, “I lost a bet to him. I didn’t beat him on the monthly exam, so for these two days of the sports meet, I’m his lackey.”
“What?!”
Wang Yizhou indignantly protested, “You only missed one subject because of something urgent. For him to accept a win like that—does He Siheng have any shame?”
Tan Jing shot him a glance and clicked his tongue impatiently. “A loss is a loss.”
Too lazy to deal with this blunder-prone, rumor-spreading blockhead any further, Tan Jing tossed out that line and headed to the assembly point on his own.
Song Lin watched his retreating back with a strange expression. Once he was a few steps away, Song Lin nudged Wang Yizhou’s arm and whispered, “Don’t you think Jing Bro seems a bit too eager to be He Siheng’s lackey?”
“How is that possible?” Wang Yizhou’s voice was obnoxiously loud. “Jing Bro is so proud—how could he eagerly become He Siheng’s lackey? This is called having integrity: honoring a bet.”
Song Lin watched as Tan Jing, who hadn’t gone far, clearly paused in his steps. The hand hanging at his side silently clenched into a fist.
Song Lin’s mouth twitched.
Dude, speak a little louder next time, and we’ll all meet in the afterlife together.
During the morning opening ceremony, He Siheng had originally thought that the placard holder position was stealing all the spotlight.
That was until the student representative took the stage to give a speech.
The students, who had been lulled into drowsiness by the school leaders’ speeches, suddenly grew restless and started hooting. Some even screamed, startling the equally drowsy He Siheng into alertness.
He looked up to see who had walked onto the rostrum if not Tan Jing?
The young man stood ramrod straight in front of the rostrum, wearing the most ordinary school uniform shirt, yet it looked exceptionally crisp and neat on him. Sunlight fell on his face, highlighting the clean youthful vigor between his brows. He needed no elaborate adornments or showy poses—just standing there properly made the whole world seem brighter.
He Siheng’s world, however, grew noisy.
In the short time it took for Tan Jing to ascend the stage, He Siheng, holding the class placard at the front of the line, had his left ear and right ear filled with the excited chatter from the girls behind him.
“Quick, look, look—our class monitor is way too handsome.”
“Hurry and snap a few pics with your phone. I’ll cover for you.”
“Wuuu, can’t even imagine which little vixen will get such a handsome class monitor in the future.”
“Don’t jinx yourself into a breakup. The class monitor belongs to everyone—Zhang Xunyue chased him for so long, and he rejected her. Who knows if he’s even thought about dating.”
“I really want to know what type he likes…”
…
He Siheng stared at Tan Jing on the rostrum and ground his teeth.
Hmph.
Bastard.
No wonder he didn’t compete with him for the placard holder spot—turns out something even flashier was waiting for him.
He Siheng had no events that morning. After the opening ceremony, he returned to the classroom, changed out of the suit, back into his school uniform, and went to Class 1’s spectator area. He gathered with Zhou Yu and a few other classmates to play cards.
While waiting for the cards to be dealt, He Siheng scanned the sports field. He didn’t even need to look closely to spot Tan Jing participating in the shot put event.
The biggest crowd was over there, like a press conference, with people snapping photos nonstop on their phones.
The more He Siheng watched, the more depressed he got. He couldn’t help muttering, “Is Tan Jing really that handsome?”
His self-muttering drew unanimous agreement from Zhou Yu and the others.
“Of course.”
“I’ve never admired anyone in my life except the class monitor’s face.”
“My girlfriend is totally into him.”
“Even though I’m an Alpha, I like him too.”
“…”
Zhou Yu patted He Siheng’s shoulder earnestly. “On this one thing alone, bro, I can’t lie to you with my eyes open—afraid of getting struck by lightning.”
He Siheng: “…”
He suspected these guys huddled around playing cards were among Tan Jing’s nineteen votes.
He Siheng asked unwillingly, “Compared to me?”
Zhou Yu looked troubled. “You two have different kinds of handsomeness—no better or worse.”
He Siheng: “What do you mean?”
Zhou Yu: “The class monitor has that upright, noble young master’s face—like a beam of sunlight after rain. Even if he were holding a pack of smokes standing among a bunch of delinquents, you’d think he’s there to enforce discipline. Even if we’re one short for Fight the Landlord and he’s just standing there, we wouldn’t dare ask him to play. As for you, Heng Bro…”
Zhou Yu paused, meeting He Siheng’s faintly expectant gaze, then said meaningfully, “You look like the type who’d whistle at pretty girls on the street, red flag standing tall at home while colorful flags flutter outside.”
He Siheng: “…”
He shouldn’t have asked.
Zhou Yu dared to say it precisely because he knew He Siheng’s temper.
This young master’s temper flared hot and fast but faded just as quickly. A couple of coaxing words later, he’d forget the grudge and laughingly continue playing cards.
On the other side, Wang Yizhou, who was in the same shot put group as Tan Jing, spotted the circle of people playing cards in Class 1’s spectator seats. He couldn’t help muttering, “Good grief, Young Master He really got addicted to gambling. So boldly playing cards in public—does he think the Student Council is just eating rice?”
Tan Jing glanced over there.
In the spectator stands, centered around He Siheng, several guys were laughing and joking—some Omegas, some Alphas. One Alpha was standing particularly close to him.
Male Alphas this age leaked pheromones when excited, and getting too close inevitably meant picking up the other’s scent.
Yet He Siheng was utterly oblivious, still grinning foolishly with the others.
“Grade 2 Class 1 contestant No. 1, Tan Jing; Grade 2 Class 10 No. 23, Xu Weiyang; Grade 2 Class 4…”
The referee began announcing numbers.
Tan Jing withdrew his gaze and let out a soft hum from his nose.
Wang Yizhou caught that cold snort and thought, He Siheng’s done for.
Though the sports meet relaxed rules these two days and the Student Council usually turned a blind eye to such things, openly gathering to play cards like this was too blatant. As Student Council President, Tan Jing surely had to step in.
They’d probably clash again soon. Should he call Song Lin over to watch the show?
While it wasn’t his turn yet, Wang Yizhou hurriedly messaged Song Lin, who was doing long jump elsewhere, only to get a string of ellipses in reply.
Wang Yizhou: What are you speechless about?
Song Lin: You… whatever.
Wang Yizhou: ?
Tan Jing’s shot put round ended quickly.
In his group was a sports specialist from Former South Middle School—tall and burly, with arms swollen like inflated balloons. Seeing all the girls snapping photos at Tan Jing while he became background noise, the muscle guy felt particularly miffed.
What a frail bookworm, and he dares to throw shot put?
When the event ended and the muscle guy witnessed Tan Jing expressionlessly hurl the five-kilogram shot put nearly twenty meters, his annoyed face turned into a stunned, ghostly one.
Such explosive power from those slender arms and legs—this guy’s almost pro-athlete level?
The muscle guy, shedding his pre-match disdain, approached worshipfully, but Tan Jing ignored him completely.
Tan Jing strode past without a sideways glance, heading straight for the spectator stands.
