Chapter 5

Lu Ping could hardly remember how he mustered the courage to drag the spotlight-stealing transfer student out of the classroom amid the encirclement of all his classmates.

By the time his senses returned, he was already panting heavily at the door of the logistics department.

He bent over, hands on his knees, gasping for breath. As he caught his air, he thought to himself that he really needed more exercise—he absolutely couldn’t just be background scenery on the bleachers during the next PE class!

“Lu Ping.” A cool voice came from behind him. “The logistics department isn’t open yet.”

That ordinary sentence made Lu Ping spring upright like he’d been shocked. His body stiffened into a board, hands glued to the seams of his pants—he’d never stood so rigidly even during military training.

“Ah… haha.” Lu Ping twisted his head around bit by bit like a robot, facing Shen Yuze, who was just a step away. An awkward laugh escaped his lips unconsciously.

What had he done! This dizzy little mouse had actually led his natural predator to a secluded, deserted corner of the school!

Shen Yuze had hurried after him for so long, yet his breathing remained steady. His school uniform collar was buttoned all the way to the top, looking just like the model student from an education bureau poster.

Up close, Lu Ping realized Shen Yuze was much taller than him. Lu Ping was 1.75 meters tall, 1.78 with shoes, and rounding up with his hairstyle made him practically 1.8—but his line of sight only reached the other’s nose… Damn, Northerners really thought they were hot stuff!

Lu Ping didn’t dare look up into his eyes, letting his gaze drift left and right. “…The logistics teacher doesn’t start until 7:45. We’ll wait a bit, and we’ll definitely make it back for first period.”

Shen Yuze made a sound of acknowledgment.

He was a man of few words, sparing with them even more than Lu Ping had imagined—”cool” in Jiao River dialect, meaning awesome.

Lu Ping had always suffered from “cool guy phobia.” He always gave the school’s cool guys (like Wang Bin, who had already dropped out) a wide berth.

But now wasn’t the time for Lu Ping to chicken out. He needed to probe as much information about Shen Yuze as possible, especially whether the transfer and becoming his desk mate was deliberate revenge or some ridiculous coincidence.

Lu Ping: “Um… how did you know my name is Lu Ping?”

Shen Yuze glanced at him. “The teacher said so.”

Oh, right—the teacher had called Lu Ping’s name when assigning seats.

Lu Ping: “So why did you transfer?”

Shen Yuze: “Family work relocation.”

A perfectly standard answer.

Lu Ping racked his brains for another question. “Coming from the Capital to Jiao River, are you used to the climate and life here? Our school’s pretty big, huh, hahaha…”

“Everything’s fine at the new school.” Shen Yuze’s amber eyes swept over Lu Ping as he answered calmly. “Except my new desk mate talks too much.”

Lu Ping: “…”

Lu Ping: “…………”

Lu Ping: “…………..”

Lu Ping made a zipper motion across his mouth, stepped back, and obediently stood against the wall.

He’d asked so much and gotten none of the info he wanted!

Feeling guilty as a thief, Lu Ping cautiously peeked at Shen Yuze’s expression, unable to read his thoughts.

The temperature between them dropped.

Fortunately, the awkward atmosphere didn’t last long. The logistics teacher finally arrived just before the break ended, thermos in hand.

“What are you here to pick up?” The logistics teacher took a sip from the thermos and asked officiously. “Do you have a note from the homeroom teacher?”

“Yes!” Lu Ping hurriedly pulled the note from his pocket and handed it over.

“For the new transfer student in class, need a new desk… High School Year 2 Class 8, Wu Yingxia.” The logistics teacher put on reading glasses, scrutinized the homeroom teacher’s signature, then peered over the lenses at the two boys. “So it’s Teacher Wu’s class. It’s been ages since we had a transfer student.”

Muttering to herself, she rummaged through the key rack for ages before finding the warehouse key. The warehouse hadn’t been opened in forever—the keyhole was nearly rusted shut. With effort, she twisted it open, and as soon as she pushed the door, dust billowed out eagerly.

“Cough cough cough…” Lu Ping, caught off guard, got a face full of dust and hurried aside to cough.

The logistics teacher looked embarrassed and waved at the airborne dust. “It’s just a bit dusty… Go on in.”

Shen Yuze, standing a bit farther from the door, luckily avoided the “dust storm” assault like Lu Ping had. He eyed the filthy, messy warehouse with disgust, then the desks and chairs piled haphazardly… He had no intention of wasting another second here and casually pointed to the one nearest the door.

“I’ll take this one.” He spoke, as usual, with minimal words.

“Wait!!” Lu Ping, who had been coughing nearby, charged back. He crossed his arms in a massive X over his chest and cut in. “Teacher, we’d like to look around some more!”

Shen Yuze frowned, not understanding what there was to choose.

Seeing his confusion, Lu Ping whispered an explanation. “Think about it—this warehouse is full of desks and chairs. The ones closer to the door are the most recently sent in for repairs! They must have some hidden issues.”

To prove his point, Lu Ping went over and patted the desk Shen Yuze had picked—sure enough, it wobbled side to side! It was a “lame-legged desk”; the four legs weren’t even heights.

Shen Yuze: “…” He was silent for a few seconds, then pointed to another desk.

Lu Ping advanced in that direction. This time, he found ink-pen scrawls in the desk pouch: “I love XX forever, XX loves me ten thousand years!”

Shen Yuze pointed to a third desk.

This one looked fine on all sides. Suddenly, Lu Ping squatted down and looked up—hey! There was half-chewed gum stuck in the pouch.

Lu Ping could tell Shen Yuze definitely had germaphobia (which noble male god didn’t?). If he really took this desk back and used it unknowingly for months, Shen Yuze might just commit murder…

After Lu Ping’s whole routine, even the logistics teacher nearby clicked her tongue in admiration. “Not bad, kid—you’re pretty sharp.”

“Heh heh heh…” Lu Ping scratched his head. After picking around, he finally unearthed a flawless desk from the deepest “mountain” of furniture in the warehouse.

It was just dirty—no other problems.

As he focused on selecting, he didn’t notice Shen Yuze’s gaze fixed on him the whole time, filled with scrutiny and unprecedented curiosity.

When Lu Ping wheeled out the final chosen desk, Shen Yuze directly extended his hand. “Give it to me.”

How could Lu Ping let the noble male god stoop to carrying a desk? He fawned obsequiously. “No no no, it’s dirty—I’ll do it.”

“Does it stop being dirty if you carry it?” Shen Yuze countered.

With that, he stopped arguing and took the desk straight from Lu Ping’s hands. Before Lu Ping could react, the weight vanished, leaving him holding air.

Damn, he wasn’t as tall as Shen Yuze, and now his strength was lacking too?

…

The first day of classes ended without further incident. During breaks, Lu Ping glued his butt to his chair, vowing never to leave Shen Yuze’s side—to prevent Chen Miaomiao from popping out of some corner to grill him about “fake-diaond.”

Chen Miaomiao did want to chat with Shen Yuze, but the transfer student’s popularity was overwhelming. All day, she couldn’t squeeze into the crowd.

While Lu Ping felt relieved, worry crept in.

You can’t wrap fire in paper—fake diamonds were still fake. No matter how glamorous an image or perfect background he crafted online… the real him was forever that dusty little mouse born in the corner.

If he had any shame, he’d correct his mistake immediately—kneel before Shen Yuze, hug the real male god’s leg, and repent his vanity. Even if he denied it, Shen Yuze just needed to log into the Partner App once to uncover his ugly deeds.

And when it all came out… the “fake-diaond” account would cease to exist.

—Along with all the admiration, praise, and respect that came with it.

Just thinking about it twisted Lu Ping’s heart in pain.

Lost in his daze, the Class Monitor appeared at their desk unbeknownst to him.

“Shen Yuze, do you have a QQ Account?” The Class Monitor stealthily rolled up his sleeve, revealing his smartwatch. “Add me as a friend—I’ll pull you into the class group.”

Though Homeroom Teacher Wu strictly forbade smartwatches and phones at school, there was always a workaround. The Class Monitor had secretly made a class group with everyone added. That way, when the teacher had announcements, he could just shout in the group instead of notifying one by one.

Unexpectedly, Shen Yuze shook his head. “I don’t have a QQ Account.”

“What????” The Class Monitor clearly didn’t believe it—which high schooler didn’t have one?

Shen Yuze spoke at length for once: “I want to focus on my studies, so before transferring, I canceled all my social accounts and uninstalled all social apps. I don’t plan to use them anymore. I’ll give you my phone number—if there’s something important, call me. If it’s just casual chit-chat, don’t waste each other’s time.”

The Class Monitor was shocked speechless: “…”

Lu Ping, overhearing, whipped his head around to stare at Shen Yuze.

His movement was too big—Shen Yuze keenly noticed and turned to meet his eyes. “What?”

“Nothing…” Lu Ping couldn’t control the grin spreading across his face. “I think you’re totally right. High schoolers should prioritize studies—social apps are such a time sink. Never download them, never register, never even look—I’m with you! Keep it up! I support you!”

His words tumbled out incoherently. Before Shen Yuze could respond, the Class Monitor cut him off, eyes full of disdain. “Niangao Prince, you catch a fever or something?”

Lu Ping ignored the sarcasm. School was out—he sprang from his seat, didn’t bother saying goodbye, grabbed his bag, and bolted from the classroom.

He ran too hastily, so he didn’t see Shen Yuze watching his retreating back the whole time.

…

Lu Ping hopped on the bus, claimed his familiar seat, let the warm sunset embrace him, and eagerly pulled out his phone to check the Partner App backend.

There was a new private message.

@I Miaomiao House: Are you syz?

Sent that morning, Lu Ping tapped her ID and, sure enough, found Chen Miaomiao’s selfies there. After realizing her online idol was now a classmate, unable to “meet offline,” she must have resorted to messaging.

Lu Ping stared at that private message, utterly unable to describe the chaotic thoughts surging through his heart… It was perfect, truly perfect—even the heavens were on his side!

He suppressed his trembling hands and replied with a few words, imitating Shen Yuze’s terse style.

@fake-diaond: Chen Miaomiao?

@I Miaomiao House: !!!!!

@I Miaomiao House: Is it really you??

@fake-diaond: Mm.

@I Miaomiao House: Aaaahhh, oh my god, the blogger I’ve been following has actually become my classmate! Aaaahhh, if I told anyone, all the fans would be so jealous!

Lu Ping took a deep breath.

@fake-diaond: Don’t tell anyone.

@I Miaomiao House: ?

@fake-diaond: I don’t want to stand out in class.

@fake-diaond: I don’t want my classmates to know my online identity.

@fake-diaond: Please keep it secret for me.

After sending the private messages, Lu Ping didn’t dare look again. He turned off his phone screen and closed his eyes, silently counting numbers.

One second, two seconds, three seconds…

Bzzz—the phone vibrated lightly.

He mustered his courage and reopened the app.

@I Miaomiao House: [Cute OK emoji]

@I Miaomiao House: Don’t worry! I get it!

@I Miaomiao House: I’ll guard your secret identity just like Tomoyo Daidouji protects Sakura Kinomoto!

Lu Ping: “…”

He had no idea who Tomoyo Daidouji and Sakura Kinomoto were, but he knew that Chen Miaomiao—this live wire—had been temporarily defused.

As long as Chen Miaomiao didn’t spill the secret, and as long as Shen Yuze didn’t log into the app, then fake-diaond’s true identity wouldn’t be exposed.

He, Lu Ping, could continue weaving an online dream that belonged solely to him.

In that dream, he would hear thunderous applause, feel waves of goodwill, and bask in heaps of affection.

—Perfect. He didn’t have to be himself anymore.