But it was unclear whether it was the back door of Class Three or the front door of Class Four—suddenly, a figure flashed by. Brian Clark froze, quickly withdrawing her gaze. In a panic, she crouched down, pretending to tie her shoelaces. The sudden change made her face flush bright red.

After the person passed by, she quickly glanced over, only to find that the boy had already disappeared.

Is he from Meizhong? A first-year? He looked completely different from last time... Last time, she thought he was a delinquent—the kind with poor grades, attending vocational school, doing nothing all day, dating, smoking, fighting... Like her peers, Brian Clark had a stereotype about vocational school students.

Although he didn’t look like a delinquent anymore, he didn’t really look like a... good kid either? Brian Clark’s mind was a jumble of thoughts. She turned on the faucet, gently scooped up a handful of cool water, and splashed it on her face.

She was very curious about him—it was the first time she’d ever felt curious about someone else.

This curiosity was a very subtle feeling, like a thin layer of mist spreading through her heart, but not strong enough to disrupt her normal life. After returning to the classroom, she couldn’t help but glance quickly at the boys in the back row, then pretended nothing had happened and looked away.

“Brian Clark, were you looking at me?” Ryan Miller had been watching her since she came in and suddenly joked loudly. Brian Clark was instantly embarrassed. She shook her head, smoothed her skirt, and had just sat down when a man entered the classroom, and the room instantly fell silent.

It was the homeroom teacher, surname Xu, slightly chubby, looking rather old, though he claimed he’d only graduated from college two years ago. Mr. Foster was very humorous: “I’m twenty-five this year. Maybe I look forty to you, but I’m actually young. Can’t help it, I just look mature. But the best thing about looking old is, when I’m forty, I’ll still look like this. Believe it or not? When I turn forty, come back and see if I look any different.”

The classroom erupted in laughter. Brian Clark couldn’t help but tug at the corners of her mouth. She did the math in her head: when the teacher is forty, that’ll be fifteen years from now. Oh, she’ll be thirty. Thirty... that’s really old. For a young girl, thirty is distant and ancient.

She really didn’t know what she’d be like at thirty. Brian Clark thought, I don’t want to get a perm like Aunt Li next door, and I don’t want to wear those tight skirts. I still want sneakers and denim skirts.

Next came one-minute self-introductions from each student. When Brian Clark went up, there was a buzz in the room again. Her skin was snow-white, but her eyebrows were jet-black. The students immediately understood what it meant to have features as beautiful as a painting.

She was very shy, her pupils sparkling, eyelashes fluttering, not knowing where to look, so she stared at Jason Walker the whole time.

Mr. Foster stood by with the roster, which listed their high school entrance exam scores. When Brian Clark finished her brief introduction, Mr. Foster called out to her: “Brian Clark? Can you be the Chinese class rep for now? I see you have the highest score.”

“Mr. Foster, Brian Clark was the Chinese class rep all three years in middle school, and she’s won awards for her essays! Pick her!” Jason Walker cheered for her from below. At that, Brian Clark’s ears burned. She hurriedly agreed to the teacher, returned to her seat, and lightly tapped Jason Walker.

That evening, the teacher quickly set up a temporary class committee, selected subject reps, and then had the boys go collect textbooks. The boys warmed up to each other quickly, joking and laughing as they left the classroom together.

Military training at the start of school was a tradition. Before it officially began, the new first-year students stood in a dense line on the field in ill-fitting green uniforms, the sun starting to scorch their faces.

Everyone complained about why it couldn’t rain this week. After some quiet grumbling, they fell silent again under the homeroom teacher’s gaze.

The leaders on stage gave speeches in turn. Each one said, “Let me say a few words,” but everyone knew that for adults, “a few words” meant at least twenty minutes.

By the time the so-called student representative went up to speak, everyone below was already impatient.

After all, the opening ceremony for new students had lasted more than two hours. The podium wasn’t outdoors, but the students below were baking in the sun, and some frail girls had fainted and been sent to the infirmary.

“Sigh, who knows how long this rep will talk. Didn’t they say it would be over in an hour?”

“It’s so hot, can’t they hurry up? I’m so sick of hearing the same old ‘respected leaders, beloved teachers.’”

“Hello everyone, in this golden September with the autumn breeze, I am honored to be chosen as the student representative...” A boy mimicked the speech slickly, and the mood shifted as everyone tried to stifle their laughter.

But soon, no one was laughing, and spirits lifted a little.

“It’s Henry Webb, it really is him!”

“That’s him, the top scorer.”

“So handsome! He’s in Class One, right? Next to us!”

Brian Clark, feeling a bit dizzy, gritted her teeth and looked up. The boy on stage was named Henry Webb. There wasn’t a single first-year who didn’t know that name. It was simple—he was the top scorer in the entrance exam, assigned to Class One.

She stared at the boy in shock.

He wasn’t a delinquent—he was the city’s top scorer in the high school entrance exam.

So, she’d known his name all along.

Brian Clark wiped the sweat that had trickled down her neck.