Volume 1 / Chapter 24: Being Leaned On

The soft white clouds in the sky once again veiled the sunlight, but that only brought relief to the exhausted students. The autumn breeze, which had carried a hint of warmth earlier, now turned refreshingly cool.

Having just finished their run, most of the students were too worn out to move. As the breeze brushed past them, they simply closed their eyes in quiet enjoyment.

Mò Xuěyáo could feel the weight on her shoulders grow heavier—as if Wáng Jiālè and Mò Xiǎoxiào had fully relaxed and were now pressing their entire bodies against her.

Instead of fighting over who got the best spot, Huā Yínyín just shot Mò Xuěyáo a mischievous wink and trotted off to a quiet corner where no one else had sat.

Somehow, she didn’t seem as carefree or flippant as she pretended to be on the surface.

The school grounds were lined with sweet osmanthus trees. In Hangzhou, these trees were seemingly everywhere—on streets, in schoolyards, and even inside residential communities.

And when they bloomed, their delicate fragrance truly did linger in every corner of the air.

The faint floral scent filled the atmosphere, gradually relaxing Mò Xuěyáo’s body—which had gone stiff from having two girls leaning against her.

She still felt a bit shy about this kind of physical closeness with girls.

Sixteen years of accumulated male-thinking still flowed through her current body, and part of her couldn’t help but want to put her arms around the two of them—to exude a calm, masculine charm.

—Of course, that was all just in her imagination.

Neither in her past life nor now did her appearance or demeanor align with anything resembling a “calm and steady man.”

When Mò Xuěyáo came back to her senses, she realized that her hands had somehow come to rest on the shoulders of Wáng Jiālè and Mò Xiǎoxiào.

Startled, she quickly tried to pull them away—only to have one hand suddenly grabbed by Mò Xiǎoxiào.

“Nyaa... It’s too hot, don’t move around, Xiǎo Yáo~ Let us lean on you a bit longer~”

“Uh…” Mò Xuěyáo let out an awkward laugh and gingerly withdrew her hand—also taking back the one that had been resting on Wáng Jiālè’s shoulder.

“Aiyoyooo—” came a teasing voice from a nearby girl.

She was a plump girl who looked very much like a panda. Her mannerisms and expressions made the words matchmaker pop into Mò Xuěyáo’s mind.

Yes... just like the stereotypical matchmakers from TV dramas—even her tone of voice matched.

“A husband with two wives, huh! So which one of you is the first wife, and which one’s the second?”

“Tián Xīnnán, you’re jealous, aren’t you?” Mò Xiǎoxiào grinned, eyes narrowing playfully. Her hair tickled Mò Xuěyáo’s neck slightly.

At that moment, Mò Xuěyáo wasn’t just feeling a strange, inexplicable joy—she was also feeling a certain unease, like she had somehow offended the two girls.

Even though it was the two of them who had leaned on her first, her male-leaning mind couldn’t help but feel that this kind of closeness was… irresponsible.

“Of course I’m the first wife!” Wáng Jiālè chimed in cheerfully, completely unfazed, picking up right where Tián Xīnnán left off. “Someone like Xiàoxiào is definitely more suited to being the second wife~”

“I think Mò Xiǎoxiào seems more like the type for the main wife. She’s got that gentle and refined vibe,” someone else offered.

“So you’re saying I’m not gentle at all, huh?” Wáng Jiālè pouted with a light snort.

“Well, at the very least, you don’t give off the gentle, virtuous wife feel,” Tián Xīnnán said cheerfully, completely unconcerned about voicing her opinions. “Hmm... you seem more like the... flirtatious type.”

Flirtatious!

Mò Xuěyáo’s face flushed deep red. She couldn’t help but glance sideways at Wáng Jiālè—suddenly imagining her lying in her bed, all shy and coquettish.

To be fair, Mò Xuěyáo had indulged in such fantasies before. After all, they were in high school. It wasn’t like she was clueless about such things.

It’s just... those thoughts had always been limited to fantasy. She had never acted on them—not even attempted the legendary "Five Dragons Coil the Pillar" method of self-relief.

Because while such thoughts stirred her mind, she had never had the physiological response of a real boy. Quite the opposite—such moments tended to leave her chest feeling oddly sore.

And now, she was feeling that same sour tingle again.

Like a jolt of electricity zipping through her whole body.

“Oh my my~ Your ‘husband’ is blushing!” Tián Xīnnán exclaimed dramatically, setting off a wave of light laughter from the other girls.

But everyone still looked drained—even the laughter felt tired.

They had just run two thousand meters, after all. Feeling drained was perfectly normal.

In the high school entrance exam, P.E. still counted as part of the score. But in the college entrance exam, it didn’t.

Unless you were a specialized athlete, most people eventually slacked off when it came to sports.

They’d only managed that two-thousand-meter run because they were still fresh high school freshmen. Their middle school fitness hadn’t completely worn off yet.

“Wah~ Her face really is red! So cute~” Wáng Jiālè giggled like she was petting a golden retriever. With a silly grin, she reached out to stroke Mò Xuěyáo’s head, even rubbing her sweaty cheek against her shoulder.

Mò Xuěyáo could only sigh in helplessness. Faced with a girl as adorable as Wáng Jiālè, how could she possibly get mad?

“Wow, your husband’s got such a nice temper!”

“Well, of course. I was the one who picked her~” Wáng Jiālè said lazily, flopping onto Mò Xuěyáo’s lap like she was drunk.

It was just a two-kilometer run—was this really necessary?

“My turn! The lap’s mine—” Mò Xiǎoxiào now joined the fray, and soon the two of them were sprawled out together on Mò Xuěyáo’s legs.

The rest of P.E. class turned into quiet, peaceful sitting around.

Tián Xīnnán looked like she had more to say, but even she seemed too exhausted. She simply sat to the side, smiling with satisfaction at the trio.

As if watching her foolish daughter finally get married off...

Wait, what kind of weird expression is that?

No way should that kind of face be on a high schooler.

Wáng Jiālè, that carefree airhead, actually fell asleep on Mò Xuěyáo’s lap—and drooled all over it, leaving her both amused and exasperated.

Still, this feeling of being depended on, of being needed, was actually... kind of nice.

In a way, it deeply satisfied that male ego nestled within Mò Xuěyáo’s heart.

Time seemed both long and short—just when Mò Xuěyáo thought they still had more time, the bell rang for the end of class.

Wáng Jiālè jerked awake, wiped the drool from the corner of her mouth, and then noticed the wet patch on Mò Xuěyáo’s leg.

She chuckled awkwardly and pulled a tissue from her pocket. “Ahem~ I-I’ll clean it for you…”

“Lele always drools in her sleep,” Mò Xiǎoxiào said with a giggle, covering her mouth. “Hmm~ Xiǎo Yáo’s thighs are really comfortable. Slim, but not bony... soft yet springy…”

Mò Xuěyáo’s mouth twitched. Somehow, it sounded like she was describing food.

Like mochi or something.

The P.E. teacher blew his whistle after the bell finished ringing.

The students sluggishly shuffled over to gather around him.

Yè Rán didn’t seem too strict about it. Once he saw the headcount was more or less complete, he waved his hand and dismissed class.

The students wandered off toward the classroom, scattered and lazy.

A few boys, having recovered their strength after a twenty-minute break, sprinted toward the classroom like they were doing a 100-meter dash.

“Ahhh~ That was a great rest,” Wáng Jiālè said, stretching exaggeratedly while walking beside Mò Xuěyáo.

“You mean a great nap, right?” Mò Xiǎoxiào teased.

Compared to the relaxed duo, only Mò Xuěyáo seemed a little awkward.

But she felt like she was beginning to understand something: girls’ friendships could be just as fast-forming as boys’.

It had only been a day and a half, yet Mò Xiǎoxiào and Wáng Jiālè already felt like close friends.

Maybe not inseparably close, but their bond had definitely deepened.

They say groups of three are the most stable friendship structure.

Come to think of it, hadn’t her old middle school bestie group also been a trio?

Except for a few boys, most students weren’t in a rush to get back to class. The next subject wasn’t a core one—it was art.

As an elective, and one that barely had any exams, most students didn’t take art class seriously. Only a few genuinely interested kids paid attention; the rest were just coasting through.

At least, that’s how Mò Xuěyáo remembered her middle school art class.

At 2:10 PM, the bell rang on time for class.

The students welcomed art class with lazy postures and scattered attention.

Surprisingly, the art teacher turned out to be a man. That caught Mò Xuěyáo off guard.

Maybe it was because all her art teachers from elementary to middle school had been women.

It had left her subconsciously assuming that all art teachers were supposed to be female.

Just like how she still expected music teachers to be women too.

Speaking of which, Yǔkōng High didn’t even offer music class. At least not for first-years—there was no music on their schedule. Maybe home economics had squeezed it out.

“I’m gonna nap through this art class…” Wáng Jiālè mumbled, slumping over her desk and immediately picking up where her nap left off.

It looked like the art teacher really was the most easygoing one on staff.

Then again, most art teachers usually were.

While Mò Xuěyáo propped her chin on her palm waiting for class to start, Wáng Jiālè suddenly opened her eyes like she’d remembered something important.

And then said, “Ah, right—the art teacher has a weird name too. It’s Qiū Yì… same sound as the current bulletin board theme, ‘Qiū Yì’ (autumn sentiments), except his name uses the ‘easy’ character.”

Mò Xuěyáo nodded helplessly, silently admiring her dedication to random trivia.

After getting that out of her system, Wáng Jiālè happily slipped back into her dreams.

“Today in art class, I’d like to introduce everyone to a legendary artist and true polymath—Leonardo da Vinci. For this demonstration, I’ve specially printed large color illustrations,” said the surprisingly ordinary-looking art teacher Qiū Yì, standing at the podium with a warm smile.