Chapter 439: All Because of the Lap Pillow Head Massage

Hearing this, Jiang Nian paused his pen and glanced at her.

"Alright."

After a moment's thought, he asked back.

"How many hours do you sleep?"

Chen Yunyun hesitated, "."

"You want me to sleep more, then secretly grind ahead." Jiang Nian figured it out, "Got it, afraid I'll overtake you, right?"

Chen Yunyun: "You.....

"Actually, it's not that I don't want to sleep early." Jiang Nian looked at her, sincerely, "I want to boost my scores so badly, I dream about it."

"Boosting scores, you still have to take care of your body." Chen Yunyun said, "The college entrance exam is a war of attrition, if your body collapses, nothing else matters."

"Ugh, now that you put it that way, I really......" Jiang Nian had been waiting for that line, "Why am I..... why is the classroom spinning?"

"Huh?" Chen Yunyun panicked with worry, reached out to feel his forehead, "What's wrong, are you dizzy?"

The one taken away by ambulance at noon had been dizzy and had a nosebleed. Went to the sink to clean up, then collapsed head-first.

"Help me press my head." Jiang Nian said weakly.

"Okay."

So, in the empty back row of the classroom.

Jiang Nian received a service of a beautiful girl pressing his head, resting his head on Chen Yunyun's thigh, feeling the pressure transmitted from her hands.

"Ah~"

Back row, blissed out.

Chen Yunyun's legs were soft, and she smelled nice too. But he was receiving treatment, otherwise he really would have laughed.

Holding back laughter....

Just as Jiang Nian was exerting all his effort into managing his expression, a small face suddenly poked into his field of vision, blinking at him.

"What are you doing?"

"Shoo, shoo, kid, go away." Jiang Nian directly reached out to shoo her, but then remembered his persona, "Ugh, so dizzy."

It's not that he's a pervert.

It's all Chen Yunyun's fault, the pants she wore today were soft in texture. Her thighs were soft too, carrying a faint fragrance.

A bit addicted, unable to extricate himself.

"He's dizzy." Chen Yunyun pretended to stay calm, her face also turning red bit by bit, "The person at noon was also dizzy and then....."

"Oh oh, I know." Wang Yuhe grew interested, "Then got taken away by the woo-woo-woo, so pitiful.

"Mm, pretty much like that." Chen Yunyun didn't know what to say, silently thinking in her heart to press for one more minute then pull away.

Wang Yuhe squatted down, staring fixedly at Jiang Nian.

"Will you have a nosebleed?"

"Hard to say." Jiang Nian was speechless inside, but couldn't help shooing her again, "Get lost quick, in a bit I'll splash blood all over you."

Wang Yuhe, hearing this, refused to leave instead.

"I've never seen someone spray a nosebleed, what does it look like?"

"Then I'll tell you right now, stick your face over." Jiang Nian directed, starting to gather saliva, "Come a bit closer."

"! I'm not coming over." Wang Yuhe sensed his intention, "You're going to spit, what a disgusting person!"

"Did I spit?"

"You were just about to spit, I heard it all."

"But did I spit?"

"You wanted to!"

"But did I spit?"

Wang Yuhe couldn't out-talk him, and looked at Chen Yunyun with eager eyes.

"What's the massage feel like?"

"Then how about I massage you later?" Jiang Nian suggested, "I'm strong, I could press a cow to death."

"Boasting!"

Chen Yunyun wasn't embarrassed now, just a bit of a headache. Whenever these two met, they'd start arguing within a few sentences.

After massaging for a while, she also realized this person was just scamming a service.

So, Chen Yunyun stopped her hands.

"Feeling better?"

"Seems.. ：：.. still a bit dizzy." Jiang Nian, the delicate beauty, "The classroom isn't swaying anymore, but why are there two Wang Yuhes?"

Hearing this, Wang Yuhe was greatly alarmed.

Then, she turned to look at Chen Yunyun, saying with a solemn face.

"Yunyun, he's lying to you."

Chen Yunyun:

,

Something this obvious, she only just realized it now?

Still, she didn't dislike being deceived. His saying he was dizzy might be a lie, but working this hard all day, he must be tired.

"Wang Yuhe, you need evidence when making claims."

"Hmph, you are!"

"I'll sue you......

Chen Yunyun reached out and placed her hand over Jiang Nian's eyes; the softness and warmth of her palm halted his argument, silencing him.

She didn't know why she did it—she just remembered using a heated eye mask and thought this might be comfortable.

"Alright, get up."

"Oh."

Jiang Nian sat up, no longer in the mood to argue with Wang Yuhe. A primary school kid—pathetic, laughable—one hand could pin her down.

Wang Yuhe glared at him like an enraged bull.

"I'm stronger than you!"

"Hah, I rarely laugh." Jiang Nian stood up, preparing to relieve himself before his nap. "You're being overly funny."

As he stepped outside, he bumped right into Yang Qiming.

"Huh? Back already?"

"Yes, just got back." Yang Qiming held a paper bag, nodding. "Still practicing basketball this afternoon?"

"Nope, we'll practice in PE tomorrow."

Jiang Nian waved him off amiably and left—he didn't hold Yang Qiming to high standards.

After all, he was a substitute; they'd need him to pull weight tomorrow.

Yang Qiming turned around, watching Jiang Nian walk away. His hand unconsciously reached for his phone, and he swallowed with a gulp.

He unlocked it, opened the first photo in his album.

There it was—the photo of Chen Yunyun pressing her hand on Jiang Nian's head. With Wang Yuhe present, the composition didn't look suggestive.

He thought for a moment, then blurred Jiang Nian's entire body with mosaic.

That's better.

Thinking of it, Yang Qiming opened Sun Zhicheng's QQ and clicked "Add Friend," then typed his verification message.

"Will Chen Yunyun press your head?"

Clicked. Sent.

The moment he imagined Sun Zhicheng's expression upon seeing the message, a surge of intense pleasure flooded his chest.

Refreshing!! Iron Fist, brutal strike!

He still remembered the cruel words Sun Zhicheng had spoken to him. Today, he would demand blood for blood.

And he would walk the path to happiness, stepping over the shattered heart of that dog, Sun.

Hah, clown.

On the other side, Sun Zhicheng was preparing for his afternoon nap in his room.

He stared at the ceiling, and as he thought of the letter he'd arranged for a girl on the third floor to send Yang Qiming, his lips curled upward.

The fool had bitten the hook—he must be eagerly anticipating a confession!

Be grateful—I'm your matchmaker!

The thought of Yang Qiming's face after being harshly rejected filled him with delight; he longed to see blood flow this afternoon!

Buzz!

His phone rang.

Smiling, he reached for the phone beside his bed—his smile froze instantly, his fingers clenched tight.

"Impossible! Absolutely impossible!"

Sun Zhicheng sat bolt upright, staring at the screen, his eyes bulging, his breath ragged like a bellows.

His heart felt as if crushed in a fist—aching, bitter beyond words.

He hadn't felt this way in a long, long time. He'd thought he'd grown mature, no longer swayed by others' emotions. "Hmph."

Sun Zhicheng collapsed back onto his bed, covering his eyes with his hand. He calmed instantly, telling himself he couldn't possibly believe him.

"That joke's funny."

The other side didn't reply—only said one thing.

"Wait."

The entire afternoon slipped by, and after school ended.

Jiang Nian carried the day's accumulated difficult problems, strolling slowly toward the monitor's desk—Li Qingrong was waiting there.

"Want to have lunch together this afternoon?"

Li Qingrong assumed it was another cafeteria meal; after a second's hesitation, she agreed.

"Alright."

The cafeteria food was actually decent, but sometimes the afternoon servings were extremely sloppy—classic rotten kelp, mushy pork.

And if left too long, eaten right before evening self-study, it wasn't quite inedible—but you'd need some biochemical fortitude to get through it.

"Let's look at the problems," she tilted her head.

At that moment, Nie Qiqi walked over, speaking with a sour tone.

"Monitor, I have questions too."

"You definitely have problems—go get checked at the hospital," Jiang Nian shoved her aside with one hand. "Stop drooling."

"Hmph, stinky man!" Nie Qiqi, respecting the monitor's position, scurried off. "I'll be back!"

Total idiot, Jiang Nian mentally cursed.

He marveled at how abstract this class was—never a peaceful day, yet he was glad he'd joined it.

Jiang the Elder had arrived—the heavens had cleared.

This Class Three, Group Eleven—all rested on his shoulders. He was MVP; Cai Xiaoqing was a lazy winner.

He finished explaining a few problems.

Li Qingrong leisurely sipped hot water from a thermos, her long lashes lowered. In her eyes, Jiang Nian instantly became 16:9.

The blood-colored sunset streamed through the window, falling on his lean face. Faintly, a thin outline could be seen.

The world was utterly still; only heartbeats could be heard.

"This problem..." Jiang Nian suddenly spoke, pushing the test paper forward a bit. "Can it be solved another way?"

Saying so, he buried his head and focused on writing out the steps.

His head was bent very low, leaning in very close.

"After the second derivative..." He got halfway through, suddenly realized it had gone quiet, looked up—and Li Qingrong's cheeks were flushed red by the sunset.

"Mm?"

"Mm-mm." Li Qingrong came back to herself, instinctively averted her gaze from his, picked up the test paper, "Let me look—" Suddenly, someone burst into the classroom and said,

"Bad news—people from our class are fighting."

Hearing this, the dozen or so remaining students in the dim classroom all looked up.

"Who?"

"Yang Qiming and Sun Zhicheng—they're on the fifth floor... It seems they suddenly started fighting over a girl."

Jiang Nian's face immediately sprouted a giant question mark.

"Huh?"

The first person he thought of was Cai Xiaoqing. Classmates going up to the liberal arts floor to fight—Old Liu's first question would surely be about her.

After all, the Holy Son of Heaven sits enthroned in the bright hall; Cai Xiang and himself divide the realm in two, jointly governing Class Three, and none in court, high or low, dare disobey.

"I'll explain the problem later—let me go check first." Jiang Nian stood up from his seat, turned to her and said, "Wait for me, and we'll go eat together."

Hearing this, Li Qingrong nodded.

"Mm."

Fifth floor—by the time Jiang Nian arrived at the scene, the two members of the soccer team, defender Sun Zhicheng and substitute Yang Qiming, had already stopped fighting.

The two stood frozen in place, glaring viciously at each other.

"You fucking idiot!"

"Fucking idiot!"

Quite a crowd had gathered to watch, which gave Jiang Nian a headache.

He didn't step forward himself, but grabbed the cultural-committee member who was watching the show. He pulled her aside and asked her to drag the two of them down.

Sure enough, the two of them gave the little Bai Que Ling plenty of face.

The two glanced at Jiang Nian in unison, then followed that girl downstairs. They glanced at each other again, and their expressions darkened.

"This isn't over!"