Chapter 178: The Taste of Love

At 5:30 p. m., the bell signaling the end of afternoon activities rang on time.

Li Luo and his group headed together to the cafeteria, had a simple dinner, then returned to their respective classrooms.

It was already past six p. m.

The winter wind howled outside the window; the classroom, unheated since no one had been there all afternoon, was bitterly cold.

Li Luo wrapped the red scarf Ying Chanxi had knitted for him around his neck, shoved his hands between the folds, and warmed them with the heat of his throat.

Yan Zhusheng turned to watch his hands, rubbing hers together: "Aren't you cold around your neck?"

"Of course I am," Li Luo said. "But once my hands warm up, it's fine. You can try it too."

"I can too?"

"Of course—your hands are on your body, aren't they?"

"Oh, then I won't be polite."

Yan Zhusheng nodded, extended both hands, and slipped them inside Li Luo's scarf, pressing them tightly against his warm neck.

Li Luo shuddered at the chill of her small hands, staring at her in stunned silence, utterly at a loss for words.

Li Luo: "... Did you misunderstand what I said?"

"Huh?" Yan Zhusheng blinked. "What did I misunderstand?"

"I meant for you to warm your own neck."

"But you told me to try it."

"... Fine, my fault." Li Luo surrendered to her innocent expression. "Are your hands warm yet? I'm freezing."

"Done." Yan Zhusheng pulled her hands back with a satisfied sigh, feeling pleasantly warm. "You're not mad, are you?"

"If I were mad, what would you do?"

"Then I'll let you warm my neck too."

"I'm truly grateful..."

Li Luo tightened his scarf, checked the time—still a few minutes until 6:30.

He called out to Zhu Yufei: "Get everyone ready—we're heading downstairs soon. Bring your chairs."

"OK." Zhu Yufei responded, stood up, went to the podium, and told everyone to prepare—those wanting snacks should get them ready now.

Even Zhang Guohuang had brought a telescope.

After all, three grades and forty-eight classes would crowd the basketball court; if you were unlucky enough to sit in the back row, you'd barely see the stage.

Just as the bell was about to ring at 6:30, Kong Jun's figure finally appeared at the classroom door—Teacher Ding was nowhere to be seen.

But his flushed, radiant face suggested he'd had a thoroughly satisfying day.

Too bad Li Luo hadn't been a student at Fu No. 1 High in his past life—he didn't know whether Old Kong had ultimately won the girl's heart or if anyone had ever seen little Kong's face.

After Kong Jun entered the classroom, the 6:30 p. m. bell rang precisely.

Over the loudspeaker, teachers gave calm, orderly instructions: each class was to form ranks, bring chairs, and descend orderly to the basketball court.

The students of Class 8 moved instantly, faces alight with excitement.

Even under the biting winter wind, the teaching building buzzed with heat.

Li Luo picked up his chair and joined the line heading downstairs.

Along the way, Yan Zhusheng hugged her chair, glancing left and right, her face brimming with curiosity.

Li Luo glanced at her and asked: "Want me to carry your chair?"

Yan Zhusheng shook her head immediately: "No need—I can carry it."

"I can't carry mine," Xu Yinghuan said ahead of her, turning back with a grin. "Class monitor, can you carry mine?"

"Carry your own chair," Li Luo rebuked sternly. "How can a young person not lift a single chair? Xu Yinghuan, you need to reflect deeply—have you been exercising regularly? Strive to be a well-rounded student in virtue, intellect, physique, aesthetics, and labor?"

"..." Xu Yinghuan stared, dumbfounded, then rolled her eyes. "Class monitor, you're so hypocritical—why didn't you say that to Yan Zhusheng just now?"

"That was a test for Yan Zhusheng," Li Luo declared with perfect seriousness. "Look—she passed flawlessly, proving herself a healthy, independent, exemplary youth. I haven't even tested you yet, and you've already chosen to fall into laziness."

Xu Yinghuan: "...?"

Li Luo could make the dead sound alive—Xu Yinghuan was left speechless, finally just rolling her eyes.

Shao Heqi, who'd witnessed the whole exchange, stared in utter disbelief, wondering if such a tactic even existed.

It reminded him of the junior high graduation ceremony months ago—if he'd known Li Luo's move, why would he have ever carried Jin Yuting's chair?

But just as their line reached Houde Road, after hearing Li Luo's long speech, Yan Zhusheng suddenly said: "I'm a bit tired now, Li Luo—could you carry my chair?"

"Really tired?"

"Mm."

"Give it here." Li Luo reached out, hoisted Yan Zhusheng's chair onto his shoulder. "Let's go."

Xu Yinghuan, hearing the commotion, turned around and saw the two of them—her eyes widened. "Class monitor, what's this? You're not being hypocritical?"

"You just don't understand," Li Luo shook his head, lecturing Xu Yinghuan. "This is an award granted by the organization after Yan Zhusheng passed her evaluation—it's her due."

Xu Yinghuan: "... Fine, whatever you say is right."

Soon, the crowd moved under the night sky and moonlight, orderly arriving at the basketball court entrance.

Against the northern wall of the court, a temporary stage had been hastily erected.

Directly in front of the stage stood a massive bonfire, already assembled but unlit.

Four bright incandescent lamps glowed at each corner of the basketball court, illuminating the students.

Gao Er and Gao San seniors were assigned to the ends of the stage; Gao Yi freshmen occupied the prime viewing area directly facing the stage, arranged in concentric fan-shaped rows.

Class 8's position was neither good nor bad—slightly left of center, midway along the seating rows.

With decent eyesight, you could still clearly see the stage.

After roughly twenty minutes of movement, all students from the three grades of Fu No. 1 High had finally taken their seats.

Everyone eagerly stretched their necks to look around, finally focusing on the stage and bonfire at the front.

The principal, now holding a microphone, had walked onto the stage, tested the sound, then smiled and said, "Students, sorry for the wait."

"Today, let's skip the fluff and jump straight to our first segment."

"Come on, count down with me."

"Ten, nine, eight…"

The Gao Er and Gao San students, clearly familiar with this scene, eagerly joined in the countdown.

The Gao Yi students, catching on late, now understood what was happening and burst into excited cheers.

"Seven, six, five, four…"

"Three!"

"Two!"

"One!"

"Light the bonfire!"

No sooner had the words been spoken than the PE teacher poured flammable oil onto the bonfire and tossed in a firestarter, instantly igniting the prearranged firewood.

At first, there was only a small flicker.

But gradually, the flames grew larger, fiercer; students in the front row could clearly feel the heatwave, instantly scattering the winter cold.

The students' moods, like the bonfire, began to burn brightly, and the party atmosphere instantly surged with excitement.

The principal, clearly delighted, had music played on the spot and launched into "The Long March."

When he reached the line "After the three armies passed, all faces brightened," he waved his hand sharply—stop!

The students burst into applause.

The principal, a veteran soldier, now returned to his cheerful grin, waved his hand, and said, "Won't take up more of your time—what's next?"

"Oh, right—Class 7, Gao Er's xiangsheng."

"Let's have them!"

After speaking, the principal stepped down from the stage.

Two students from Class 7, Gao Er, appeared on stage wearing red and green long gowns, performing xiangsheng with mimicry, jokes, singing, and recitation, sending the audience into fits of laughter.

Li Luo watched the scenes on stage, his heart growing increasingly reflective.

So this is what a good high school is like?

I really did enroll in a fake high school!

"Li Luo." Yan Zhusheng tugged at Li Luo's scarf.

"Hmm?"

"The president wants us." Yan Zhusheng pointed to Niu Qingling standing in the back row, waving at them.

Their performance was scheduled as the second-to-last.

The final act is the school song choir, so calling theirs the closing act isn't wrong.

Even though there's still time before the second-to-last act, they needed to head over early and prepare.

"Let's go." Li Luo adjusted his scarf and stood up.

Yan Zhusheng rose with him, and together they followed Niu Qingling toward the open space behind the stage.