Volume 1 / Chapter 32: The Class Monitor's Lie

Sensing Mò Xuěyáo’s gaze, Lǐ Wǎnyán subtly turned her head, quietly angling away to shield the faint bruising around her eye.

The atmosphere turned awkward. Neither of them spoke. As usual, the class monitor opened the windows for some ventilation. Mò Xuěyáo took her seat, schoolbag still slung on one shoulder.

A chill autumn breeze slipped in through the window. A withered yellow leaf floated down and landed gently on her desk.

She was curious, of course—but since she wasn’t particularly close with the class monitor, she felt awkward bringing it up.

What if she accidentally touched a nerve?

Sometimes, the best form of comfort is pretending not to see the other person's wounds. Treat them just as before, as if nothing had changed.

If it weren’t so early, this could have passed for just another normal morning.

The class monitor placed her homework on the desk, then took out her textbook and began reviewing.

Mò Xuěyáo scratched her head in frustration, took off her hair tie, and redid her low ponytail. When she looked back up, she noticed the class monitor had lowered her head onto her desk.

Her face was buried in her folded arms, and her shoulders were quivering ever so slightly.

Mò Xuěyáo drew in a deep breath. Her voice, low and soft, echoed gently in the quiet classroom—like fine sand slipping through the cracks of cupped hands:

“What’s wrong?”

It wasn’t loud, but the silence made it clear.

Lǐ Wǎnyán didn’t answer immediately. Her shoulders stopped shaking, but it was a long time before she finally raised her head. She turned toward the window in the corridor, giving Mò Xuěyáo only the back of her head.

“Nothing. Just a bit sleepy.”

“…Your eye… what happened?” Mò Xuěyáo couldn’t help asking in the end. Some instinct deep down still made her think of herself as a man. And as a man, wasn’t it natural to solve women’s problems, shoulder their burdens, or at least… offer comfort?

Even if Lǐ Wǎnyán was still just a girl—and even if Mò Xuěyáo herself… was no longer truly a man. In fact, she was just a teenage girl now.

“I ran into a pole,” Lǐ Wǎnyán replied flatly. Then she smoothly changed the subject. “How come you’re here so early today?”

“Ah, I got up early, so I came out with my dad. By the way, monitor, did you eat breakfast?”

“…” Lǐ Wǎnyán paused, then replied, “I did.”

But it didn’t sound convincing.

And right then—

Growl… growl…

Her stomach betrayed her with a loud rumble.

A blush crept up Lǐ Wǎnyán’s usually stern little face. She drew a deep breath and picked up her textbook as if nothing had happened.

Mò Xuěyáo didn’t know what to say either, so she simply stayed quiet.

Gradually, sleepiness began to creep in. After all, she’d gotten up too early, and the lack of rest was catching up.

Before long, she had laid her head on her desk and dozed off. In the haze of half-sleep, she seemed to feel someone walk over and gently shut the window beside her.

Without the cold wind blowing on her face, her sleep was much sweeter.

She didn’t wake until both hands had gone numb. As she yawned and stretched, she realized the classroom was already buzzing with people.

Gāo Yuán was darting around trying to borrow homework to copy, even making a point to shout loudly about it. But today, Lǐ Wǎnyán didn’t seem to care.

“What’s up with the class monitor today?” Zhōu Yǒng, sitting in the back row, elbowed Lǐ Hóngrǎn. “Even letting Gāo Yuán get away with copying? Look at how cocky that guy’s acting.”

Although Lǐ Hóngrǎn was technically supposed to sit beside Xuě Xiānshēng , he had dragged his desk way back to sit with Zhōu Yǒng instead. Looked just like his deskmate now.

That left Xuě Xiānshēng sitting rather lonely up front.

"Tch" Lǐ Hóngrǎn kept scribbling rapidly while lowering his voice. “Did you notice her left eye? Looks like she’s bruised.”

“Really?” Zhōu Yǒng squinted.

“Look closely—you’ll see it.”

“I didn’t see anything.”

“…Of course not. You walked in and immediately locked eyes with Mò Xuěyáo. How the hell would you notice anything else?” Lǐ Hóngrǎn rolled his eyes. “Did you finish copying yet? I’m turning the page.”

“Wait wait wait! Two blanks left!”

“Why does English even exist…” Lǐ Hóngrǎn groaned in despair.

“Right? I've had enough of English in middle school, and I still have to study it in high school. I can’t take it anymore…” Zhōu Yǒng echoed in sympathy.

And with that, the topic quickly derailed.

“Hey, Xuěyáo—what’s with that gloomy face?” Wáng Jiālè, sitting beside her, poked her in the arm.

“Me? Gloomy? No way.” Mò Xuěyáo looked genuinely puzzled.

“Really not?”

“Nope.” Still clueless.

“…Alright then.” Wáng Jiālè mumbled and nodded, before launching into her usual routine, “Wanna go to the bathroom?”

“No…” Ordinary daily life was really this trivial.

“Ahhh, that felt great! Finally done copying!” Gāo Yuán laughed dramatically and plopped into his seat. He kept stealing glances at Lǐ Wǎnyán, as if trying to read her expression.

Li Wanyan was finally somewhat provoked by him. She turned to look at Gao Yuan, her eyes slightly glaring with the same old authority.

However, the somewhat inconspicuous bruising affected this authoritative feeling.

And the subsequent stomach rumbling that only nearby Gao Yuan could hear completely destroyed this feeling.

“Ahhh! I was wrong, I was wrong!” Before she even said a word, Gāo Yuán let out a theatrical wail, his voice like a pig being slaughtered. Anyone passing by might’ve thought some guy was getting assaulted in there.

A smile tugged at Lǐ Wǎnyán’s lips. Though she quickly suppressed it, Gāo Yuán caught it.

Feigning innocence, he pulled out a box of sandwich cookies from under his desk and presented it solemnly like a tribute. “I offer my snacks in penance. Please, don’t tell the homeroom teacher… Just this once, I swear.”

Her eyes flicked toward the cookies.

She hesitated, then accepted them anyway.

“Bribery won’t work on me,” she said. “But… just for today. No copying homework next time—do your own. Got it?”

“Got it, got it!” Gāo Yuán nodded frantically like a sycophant.

“Whoa, class monitor! Share a few with me! It’s just confiscated loot from Gāo Yuán anyway—sharing doesn’t hurt!” Liú Xiǎowěi came bouncing over, eyes sparkling.

“Scram! Go play somewhere else!” Gāo Yuán shoved him aside. “That’s an offering for the monitor. You’ve got no shame trying to mooch off it!”

“How am I shameless? I—”

Before he could finish, Lǐ Hóngrǎn came up behind him and locked him in a classic headlock. “Move it, Liu Little Dog, let’s hit the bathroom.”

Liu Little Dog—his infamous nickname…

Giving nicknames was very normal. Unlike girls who would give cute and affectionate nicknames, among boys, they always went for the most insulting ones.

After all, not insulting each other wouldn't show how close they were.

Lǐ Wǎnyán’s cheeks were tinged pink. She kept her head down and quietly opened the cookie box, munching along with sips from her water bottle.

Meanwhile, Gāo Yuán just sat there grinning like an idiot.

He really wasn’t as heartless as he liked to act.

Mò Xuěyáo observed it all in silence, feeling a twinge of emotion.

He didn’t ask about the bruise—but he had comforted her, in his own way.

Unexpectedly… not a bad guy at all.

Not long after, the homeroom teacher walked into the noisy classroom and immediately coughed in irritation.

“Ahem! It’s Tuesday, morning reading should be English, right? Where’s the English class rep?” Yè Wén stood at the podium, hands on her hips.

“Ah! I forgot!” Wáng Jiālè slapped her forehead. “I thought we were still doing Chinese!”

“You’re hopeless. Get up here and lead the reading.” Yè Wén clapped her hands and turned toward Lǐ Wǎnyán.

The monitor was also the teacher’s unofficial assistant. Most class matters went through her.

“Wǎnyán, After military training is over, the next thing is the school sports meet. Coordinate with the PE rep to finalize the list of participants—either volunteers or those you can persuade.”

“Okay.” Lǐ Wǎnyán nodded.

“…Hm?” Yè Wén finally noticed the bruise under her left eye. Unlike the students, she didn’t hold back, just asked outright, “What happened to your face?”

“Ran into a pole .” Li Wanyan used the same excuse to deflect.

“Be more careful next time.” Yè Wén nodded, not pressing the issue. Still, her expression made it clear—she didn’t really buy it.

Then she lightly knocked on Gāo Yuán’s forehead.

“Ahhh—Ah Wén! I didn’t even do anything today, why are you hitting me?!”

“You calling me ‘Ah Wén’ now?” Yè Wén shot him a sideways glance. “I was just getting a head start. Figured I’d have to knock you anyway. Didn’t do your homework again?”

“I did! I copied—I mean—I did it!”

Yè Wén narrowed her eyes. “Oh? Wrote it yourself, or copied it? Speak truthfully!”

“Wrote it! I swear!” Gāo Yuán looked at her with exaggerated innocence.

But with his usual track record, who would believe him?

“Wǎnyán, did he write it himself or copy it?” she turned to her trusted class monitor.

Lǐ Wǎnyán looked at Gāo Yuán with a blank expression. He flinched but tried to hold his ground.

“He didn’t do it.”

Gāo Yuán’s heart dropped.

“He came in early and finished it then. Didn’t copy—it’s his own work.”

And just like that, he was pulled back from the brink of doom.

“Oh? Next time, do it at home, alright?” Yè Wén flicked his forehead again. “Now get to morning reading.”

“Yes yes yes…”