The next morning, when Cheng Xing awoke and stepped outside, a light rain had already begun to fall.
With each autumn rain came an ever-deepening chill. Since the Mid-Autumn Festival, time seemed to rush forward, and the weather grew colder by the day. The rain had turned the leaves brittle and golden, shaking them loose until they blanketed the ground.
On the narrow path in front of his house, fallen leaves drifted in puddles, carried by the cold rain and the gusts of the autumn wind. The sharp droplets splashed against Cheng Xing's face, whispering tales of late autumn's somber touch.
He hesitated, then turned back to grab his umbrella. Accompanied by the rhythmic patter of raindrops and the quiet rustle of the wind, he set off for school.
Many roads in Ancheng hadn't been properly maintained in over a decade, leaving potholes scattered everywhere. Cheng Xing walked cautiously, carefully avoiding the waterlogged pits to keep his shoes dry. As he moved, a thought crept into his mind: If it's raining, how is Jiang Luxi managing on her bike?
By the time he reached school, Jiang Luxi had already answered that question.
As Cheng Xing entered the stairwell of the teaching building, he spotted her standing there. She was perched on one of the lower steps, fiddling with the light switch. It didn't respond.
Stepping closer, he reached out and flipped the switch for her. The dim stairwell lit up, casting a faint glow over her figure. For the first time, Cheng Xing got a clear view of Jiang Luxi.
She wore a raincoat, but her hood had likely been blown back repeatedly by the relentless autumn wind. Her hair clung to her damp cheeks, and raindrops sparkled on her face like scattered gems.
Her glasses were missing. Perhaps wearing them in the rain had been too troublesome. Without them, her face—flawless and serene—was fully illuminated in the faint stairwell light.
It was the first time Cheng Xing had seen her without glasses.
Only when a face as delicate as hers is completely unveiled can one truly grasp the meaning of beauty.
Some people are like meteors streaking across the night sky—breathtaking in their brilliance, leaving an indelible mark on anyone fortunate enough to witness them.
Cheng Xing had never believed in love at first sight. Beauty alone wasn't enough. Without knowing a person's character or values, how could one truly fall in love? The world is full of beautiful faces.
But some people, once seen, are unforgettable. They leave a mark, stir something deep inside you, making it impossible to look away.
Cheng Xing reached into his pocket, pulling out a pack of tissues.
"Wipe your hair. You'll catch a cold if you don't."
Jiang Luxi hesitated, looking at him but not accepting the tissues.
"The temperature's dropped a lot these past few days," he continued. "Especially in the mornings. If you get sick, it's not just about you. You'll miss class, and the blackboard bulletin won't get updated. Plus, medicine and doctor visits aren't cheap."
Finally, Jiang Luxi accepted the tissues.
Seeing her take them, Cheng Xing nodded and continued up the stairs. Behind him, Jiang Luxi used the tissues to dry her hair and the rain clinging to her face.
The previous day, the temperature had hovered around 17 or 18 degrees Celsius. Now, after the morning rain, it had likely dropped to 13 or 14 degrees. The chill seeped into her skin, especially with her damp hair clinging to her neck.
After breakfast, Cheng Xing chose not to stay in the classroom to study. Constant study wasn't healthy. A little relaxation was necessary.
By now, the rain had stopped. Cheng Xing and Zhou Yuan headed to the school's courtyard to play table tennis.
A few boys from other classes soon joined them.
"This paddle feels weird. Got one without the rubber?" Cheng Xing asked, frowning at the sponge-covered paddle in his hand.
"Cheng Bro, I've got one," Deng Hu replied, handing him a bare wooden paddle.
In Ancheng, many players preferred using plain paddles without rubber, favoring a penhold grip.
In his previous life, aside from excelling academically, Cheng Xing had been a natural athlete. Basketball, table tennis—he excelled at them all. Switching to the bare paddle, he quickly defeated Zhou Yuan.
"Old Mama, you're up next. You're the only one who can take on Cheng Bro," Zhou Yuan said, tossing his paddle to Li Junze.
Li Junze stepped up, serving the first shot.
Their game drew attention. They exchanged over ten rallies in the first volley, and the growing crowd of students watched in awe.
Among table tennis enthusiasts, Cheng Xing and Li Junze's matches were legendary.
If Cheng Xing was the strongest spear, Li Junze was the immovable shield. While Cheng Xing attacked relentlessly, Li Junze defended with precision and patience, returning every shot with ease. His defensive style earned him the nickname "Old Mama," a local slang term likening him to a tireless, resilient grandmother.
Though Li Junze returned every shot with skill, Cheng Xing finally won, forcing him to miss after a grueling volley of over twenty exchanges. The crowd erupted in cheers, thrilled by the intense match.
Suddenly, someone called out, "Jiang Luxi!"
The crowd turned.
Jiang Luxi, clutching a small pack of tissues, hesitated when she saw the gathered students. If she'd known so many people were here, she wouldn't have come. Yet returning to class with the tissues now would only invite more questions.
She had hoped the court would be quiet. After all, table tennis only required two players. Perhaps Zhou Yuan would be around, but not an entire audience.
Gossip spread quickly. Jiang Luxi had experienced it firsthand.
Still, her mind was clear. She and Cheng Xing shared nothing inappropriate. Perhaps he had helped her to provoke Chen Qing.
Quietly, she approached and handed Cheng Xing the tissues.
He hadn't expected her to return something so trivial but accepted them nonetheless.
The crowd was stunned.
What was going on? Jiang Luxi handing Cheng Xing tissues after he'd gotten sweaty?
Could it be… Jiang Luxi liked Cheng Xing?
Their minds buzzed with questions.
Cheng Xing smiled, breaking the silence.
"It rained this morning. Jiang Luxi's hair got wet, and she didn't have any tissues, so I lent her some. You all know how she is—she doesn't like owing favors. Don't read into it. She's just returning what I lent her."
Jiang Luxi raised her head, her bright eyes briefly meeting Cheng Xing's. She hadn't expected him to explain their interaction to everyone so openly.
But it made sense. Cheng Xing liked Chen Qing. His actions weren't meant to cause any real misunderstanding but to provoke Chen Qing. Jiang Luxi recognized this and felt relieved. For her, this clarified any lingering doubts.
The crowd murmured in realization, nodding as if it all made sense.
This was typical Jiang Luxi.
Throughout her years at No. 1 High School, Jiang Luxi had never owed anyone a favor. Rumors of her meticulous repayment habits were well-known.
When Cheng Xing gave her a band-aid, she repaid the money. When he helped her with her bike, she bought him water. Even for something as minor as cutting in line to buy steamed buns, she compensated him later.
The idea that Jiang Luxi and Cheng Xing were romantically involved, or that Cheng Xing had "won" her over, now seemed laughable.
Cheng Xing's feelings were his own business, but who Jiang Luxi liked—that mattered to everyone else.
In the remaining year at school, they wanted Jiang Luxi to remain untouchable, the mysterious, unattainable "white moonlight" in their collective memories. She represented a shared ideal, a distant, pure figure none of them could claim.
Her future belonged to whoever she chose, but for now, they wanted her to remain beyond reach. They clung to the illusion that she could belong to them all in some abstract way.
After handing the tissues back to Cheng Xing, Jiang Luxi quietly left.
Cheng Xing played a few more rounds before returning to the classroom.
Zhou Yuan was waiting, a mischievous grin on his face.
"Cheng, I'll give you ten times the price for that tissue Jiang Luxi just handed you," he joked.
Cheng Xing shot him a sideways glance. "If you're sick, go see a doctor."
Zhou Yuan laughed, undeterred. "I was listening to Lao Lang's Deskmate yesterday. It hit me hard—especially the line, 'Who marries the sentimental you, who ties up your long hair.' Cheng, if Jiang Luxi ends up with someone else, would you be upset?"
Cheng Xing froze. He hadn't considered that.
In the future, Jiang Luxi never belonged to anyone. No marriage, no public relationships. She even publicly declared on Weibo that she would never marry.
But what if she did? What if one day she found someone and rested in his arms? Would he feel upset?
Cheng Xing's gaze drifted to a motivational quote on the wall:
"Don't let the ship of dreams dock at the harbor of fantasy; hoist the sails of effort and set forth into the sea of reality."
He remained silent.
Zhou Yuan smirked. "See? I knew it'd bother you!"
"Stop talking nonsense and focus on something useful," Cheng Xing muttered.
The evening bell rang, snapping Zhou Yuan out of his teasing mood. He quickly hid his phone, where he'd been reading a novel, and leaned closer to Cheng Xing.
"Cheng, let's hit the internet café for a few rounds?"
Zhou Yuan had already told his dad there'd be a test during night study, buying him extra time. Half an hour of gaming seemed perfect.
"Not today. You go ahead. I'll catch up later."
"Geez, yesterday it was 'later,' and today it's still 'later,'" Zhou Yuan muttered as he dashed out, eager to fire up CrossFire at the café.
With fewer classmates paying attention to Jiang Luxi today, Cheng Xing finally understood why she kept such a low profile—always walking with her head down, hiding behind her bangs. She was tired of the attention.
But brilliance can't be hidden forever.
For two years, Jiang Luxi had concealed her beauty, but fate, like the gusts of wind that morning, revealed it. If not for that gust, perhaps no one would've realized that the top student was also the most beautiful girl in school.
No. 1 High School didn't officially recognize "school belles," but everyone silently agreed that Jiang Luxi was unmatched.
As the classroom emptied, only Cheng Xing and Jiang Luxi remained. He was working on the middle section of the blackboard mural, determined to finish it.
The bottom and middle sections could be done in a day, but the top would take two more.
Chalk wore down quickly. Soon, Cheng Xing ran out.
"Pass me another piece of chalk," he said, still focused on his work.
Jiang Luxi extended her hand, offering it silently. Without looking, Cheng Xing reached back, and instead of grabbing the chalk, his fingers brushed against her hand—soft, warm, and unexpectedly smooth.
He froze for a second, turning to see Jiang Luxi equally startled.
Neither spoke. Cheng Xing took the chalk and resumed drawing, though his calm exterior hid the turmoil inside. His next line was off, forcing him to erase and redo part of the mural.
When the chalk wore down again, Cheng Xing glanced at Jiang Luxi.
This time, she pointed to the desk. "Get it yourself."
Cheng Xing walked over, broke the chalk in half, and returned to work. Finally, the middle section was done.
As they locked up and walked downstairs together, Cheng Xing broke the silence.
"About earlier—I didn't mean to."
"Mm." Jiang Luxi nodded, her response soft and understated.
"Take care on your way home."
The autumn wind blew down more leaves, scattering them across the ground. As they drifted past, the heart of a young boy stirred.