Chapter 11

"Come on! Drink up!"

Outside the barbecue joint, smoke and flame filled the air as a giant fan blasted grease fumes skyward.

On the artificial turf, a dozen wooden round tables and a circle of pink plastic chairs were set out; under bright spotlights, eight or nine students clinked beer bottles.

"Why isn't Jiang Nian here?" someone asked.

"He's broke, who knows," a boy said carelessly; a small hotpot on the table bubbled steadily, "He hasn't spoken with us these past few days."

Le Zhi sat in his seat, his expression awkward. He was close to Jiang Nian and knew the reason; seeing the topic veer further off, he couldn't help but explain.

"Hey, it was just that thing last time—he overheard us joking around. Jiang Nian's probably just pouting; if we talk it out, it'll be fine."

"What's there to talk about? He can come if he wants," Zhou Yuting suddenly said.

"Huh?" Le Zhi hadn't expected Zhou Yuting to speak, and he fell silent, embarrassed.

This group had gathered around Zhou Yuting; now that she had spoken, the others grew even more aggressive, launching into harsh criticism of Jiang Nian.

"A poor bastard is just a poor bastard—what's wrong with saying a couple things?"

"Exactly! Who's got such a fragile ego that they can't take a joke? What's the point of someone like that? Let him come or not—do we need the class monitor to beg him?"

Zhou Yuting was the class monitor, consistently ranked in the top five academically. Her family was wealthy, she was sharp-witted, had a great figure and knew how to have fun, and had always been popular with the opposite sex.

Le Zhi truly liked Zhou Yuting, but hearing the others relentlessly belittle Jiang Nian, he'd originally thought it was just a few words—now he realized they'd even dragged in his mother.

They kept cursing, growing louder and more extreme with every word.

"Ha… isn't this going too far?"

"What's too far? Did we say anything wrong? A poor bastard is just a poor bastard—poor people give birth to poor people, they'll never have any real vision."

Even though Le Zhi's relationship with Jiang Nian wasn't that close, and he didn't want to contradict Zhou Yuting, hearing this now made him lose his temper.

With a bang, Le Zhi shot to his feet, furious.

"Enough!"

"Are you all fucking insane? Just because Jiang Nian didn't show up doesn't mean you drag his family into it—anyone who didn't know would think he fucking murdered your mothers!"

"I can't stand you idiots—you'd be better off befriending dogs than you! Go drink your fucking beer!"

Le Zhi spat it all out, slapped down three hundred-yuan bills, didn't even look at them, and turned to leave.

At the table, silence fell.

After a few seconds, someone finally reacted.

With a crack, he stood up holding a beer bottle, glaring at Le Zhi's retreating back, eyes red with rage.

"Fucking asshole! You got balls, don't you dare leave!"

"What's the point?" Zhou Yuting snapped, glaring at him, "He's already gone—what good does yelling do?"

"But..."

"Sit down!" Zhou Yuting crossed her arms, shooting him a hard look, "Do you know who Le Zhi's father is? If you lay a hand on him, you won't get out for fifteen days—do you want to drop out?"

Liu Feipeng sat sipping his drink slowly, listening to the conversation with a silent smile. The upward curve of his lips mocked not only Jiang Nian but also the other boys at the table.

A bunch of poor bastard fools—did they really think pushing Jiang Nian away would win the goddess's favor?

He saw clearly: Le Zhi's father was a leader in the county Gongan Bureau. Though usually soft-spoken, he hadn't realized Le Zhi had some spine after all.

This made Liu Feipeng raise his estimation of Le Zhi—he wasn't just another brainless sycophant; he had the potential to be a real rival.

Besides, he understood: Zhou Yuting was sharp enough not to distance herself from Le Zhi over this. What she valued was background—in a small county, background and power mattered most.

The victor's cake should be enjoyed by someone like him—steady and powerful.

"Ahem." Liu Feipeng smiled, breaking the heavy silence, "How did Yuting do on the exam? Any chance of moving up to the Olympiad class?"

One sentence, and the table returned to normal.

Zhou Yuting frowned. "I did okay, but I don't know if it'll be enough."

"No problem," Liu Feipeng grinned, the image of a calm older brother, "I checked—this exam was overall harder than usual. Maybe 530 will be enough to move up."

"Really?" Zhou Yuting's eyes lit up, "I estimated 510—if I'm lucky, I might just scrape up to 530."

"Mm, even if you're a little short, it's fine," Liu Feipeng said casually, "My father knows our grade director pretty well."

"He mentioned it today—if all else fails, I can speak up for you."

"Thanks in advance, Brother Peng," Zhou Yuting said sweetly.

The educational resources of the Olympiad class were worlds apart from the regular classes—not because teachers favored one over the other, but because the foundational levels of the two classes were completely different.

Zhou Yuting had consistently ranked in the top five in her class; last week, her homeroom teacher had spoken with her, urging her to prepare hard and aim for promotion to the Olympiad class.

If she could move up and establish herself in the Olympiad class, a first-tier university was guaranteed, and a top-tier one was possible—she'd always wanted to attend Lu Da on the coast.

Under the lights, Jiang Nian opened a white box and took out the bruise ointment with a grave expression.

After opening the lid, a strong medicinal scent filled the air.

He turned, shook his head.

"Why on earth did you twist your ankle? Xu Qianqian, were you daydreaming about boys when you came upstairs?"

In the Xu family's living room, Xu Qianqian, sitting on the sofa, clenched her teeth at his words.

"You're the one daydreaming! It's only because... because there was a rat!"

"Rats are so cute—how can you be afraid of them?" Jiang Nian sighed repeatedly, walking up to her and looking down at her, "Tsk tsk."

That "tsk tsk" made Xu Qianqian furious—she hurled a pillow at him.

"Get out! I'll apply it myself!"

"No way," Jiang Nian grinned wickedly, "Old Xu hasn't come home yet—I have to help you apply the ointment. Besides, how could I miss such a good chance?"

"Don't worry! I'll be... gentle!"

Xu Qianqian's face visibly paled—no girl likes pain.

"Leave it—I'll do it myself."

"Sprains need to be dealt with right away. If you leave them, the bruising will set in since you're so weak." Jiang Nian pulled over a small stool and raised an eyebrow. "Bring that stinky foot over here."

"Yours is the stinky foot! Here, smell it and see for yourself!" Xu Qianqian, reluctant, stretched out her snow-white little foot.

Probably because girls are so keen on washing their feet, the entire sole had no dead skin. Instead, it was red with a touch of pink, and her toes curled up like snow-white glutinous rice balls.

Because she was stretching her leg out on the sofa, the hem of Xu Qianqian's pajamas drew taut, outlining a pair of plump little hills, looking especially tempting.

Jiang Nian only glanced once before looking away, thinking to himself, When did they get so big?

He poured some dit da oil into his palm, focused intently on pressing it along the swollen edge of Xu Qianqian's ankle. He applied some force, then rubbed in circles.