Chapter 891: A Slightly Red Face

The teacher was writing a new example problem on the blackboard, completely unaware of the silent psychological battle unfolding in the third row of the classroom.

Hua turned her head toward Ge Lei Xiu again, her lips moving several times, her hand lifting and lowering beneath the desk, unsure whether to cover the drawing board directly or try another verbal reminder.

But Ge Lei Xiu remained completely unmoved.

She even tilted the drawing board a bit toward Hua, probably thinking the light coming from the window made drawing more convenient.

The pencil tip roamed across the paper with great skill, adding a few folds to the swimsuit.

Then she set the pencil down, picked up the eraser, gently erased twice at a certain spot, corrected a few strokes, and picked up the pencil again to retrace the lines.

Hua's eyesight became unprecedentedly sharp under extreme tension; she clearly saw that the few strokes Ge Lei Xiu altered were highlights on the chest.

She adjusted the position of the highlights, making the overall contour appear fuller.

Hua's lips opened and closed silently, closing and opening again.

Her heartbeat raced as if she had just run eight hundred meters, and her face was so hot it could fry an egg.

She glanced around with the corner of her eye; a male classmate across the aisle was slumped on his desk, dozing, completely oblivious to this side.

A girl a row away was bent over copying notes, entirely unaware of this side.

No one paid attention to this side.

She was alone, facing a swimsuit‑clad, large‑busted version of herself that Ge Lei Xiu was adding highlights to stroke by stroke.

"Hua, classmate."

The teacher's voice came from the podium, steady and clear, pausing briefly on her name.

Hua's shoulders jolted sharply, and she sprang from her seat as if struck by electricity.

Rising so quickly, her knee hit the desk leg, producing a dull thud.

She endured the pain, her hands hanging in front, secretly covering her reddened knuckles with the sleeves of her school uniform.

"Yes."

The teacher pushed up his glasses, and the piece of chalk in his hand hovered in the air for a moment.

She had originally intended to ask Hua for the solution to the problem, after all Hua was one of the best math students in the class, but at this moment she saw not a top‑performing student ready to answer, but a girl whose face was flushed, with fine sweat at the temples.

"Your face is a bit red."

The teacher set the chalk down, his tone shifting from inquiry to concern, "Are you feeling unwell? Have you got a fever?"

The whole class's gaze turned to Hua at the same instant.

Over twenty pairs of eyes fell simultaneously on her face, which was so red it seemed it might bleed.

Hua could feel each stare like sunlight focused through a magnifying glass, scorching her skin.

She opened her mouth, and her voice squeezed out from her throat, hoarse and forcedly steady.

"... It's nothing. A bit stuffy."

As she spoke, her tone wavered slightly, because at that moment Ge Lei Xiu picked up a pencil again and added a stroke on the paper; from the corner of her eye, Hua saw the stroke on the swimsuit's neckline bow, making the bow more three‑dimensional.

The teacher watched her for a while, seemingly judging whether she was putting on a brave front.

Hua stood in place, her back straight, hands at her sides slightly clenched, using immense willpower to keep her eyes from drifting to the right.

"... If you're not feeling well, go to the infirmary."

The teacher finally nodded, his tone gentle, "Sit down."

Hua sat back down, the bone where her knee had struck throbbed faintly, but her attention was no longer on the pain at all.

The first thing she did after sitting was not to keep looking at the blackboard, but to snap her head to the right, looking at Ge Lei Xiu.

On Ge Lei Xiu's drawing board, the picture had already entered its final stage.

All the swimsuit details were finished, and Ge Lei Xiu was carefully using the edge of the eraser to bring out highlights in the hair, making the gray‑blue long‑haired girl in the picture appear more ethereal and lively.

She drew earnestly, lips slightly pursed, her icy‑blue eyes reflecting the work taking shape under her brush.

Hua stared at her for at least five seconds.

Then, under Hua's gaze, Ge Lei Xiu set the eraser down, picked up the pencil, and began adding new elements beside the picture.

Hua watched with her eyes wide as she used the side of the pencil to outline a new scene: the horizon, palm leaves, the edge of a parasol, and in the distance a drifting inflatable Big Yellow Duck, forming the background.

Ge Lei Xiu was adding a complete seaside vacation background to the swimsuit drawing.

Hua's lips twitched.

She closed her eyes, inhaled slowly, filling her lungs with air.

Then she opened her eyes, placed the pen back on the desk, gently pushed the chair aside, and stood up.

The movement was light, making little sound.

"... I'll go to the restroom."

Her voice was steady, so steady that even she was a little surprised.

The teacher turned away from the blackboard, gave her a glance, and nodded slightly in agreement.

Hua walked out through the aisle between desks, her silhouette pausing in the light at the classroom door before disappearing into the hallway.

Ge Lei Xiu lifted her head, glanced at the empty seat, then looked down at the nearly finished swimsuit portrait of Hua on her drawing board.

She tilted her head, seeming to ponder, "Why does the Class Monitor look so hot?"

Then she concluded it might be the strong afternoon sun, so she kept her head down and drew, enlarging the parasol in the background by a few inches to better shield the imagined sunlight for the figure in the picture.

The pencil continued to rustle on the paper—scratch, scratch, scratch.

The chant of the running drills from the playground outside the window was still echoing.

At the end of the hallway, Hua was leaning beside the girls' restroom sink, splashing cold water onto her face.

Droplets ran down her chin, landing on the light‑blue collar of her uniform, spreading a small dark water stain.

She rested her hands on the marble edge of the sink, looked up at her still flushed face in the mirror, her icy‑blue eyes filled with three parts shame and four parts pure bewilderment.

She had only just started school.

I just want to calmly write down the homework and, after school, go home to practice.

Why is there a transfer student sitting next to her who draws so terrifyingly skillfully, is obsessively particular about swimsuit sizes, and sketches anytime, anywhere regardless of the setting? She still doesn't know how she got from the classroom to the restroom.

Probably she spent all the composure cultivated from years of martial training along the way just on controlling her facial expression.

She closed her eyes and splashed a handful of cold water onto her face.

Footsteps echoed in the hallway, sounding like some heavy equipment slowly moving across the tiled floor.

Hua didn't pay attention.

Probably Kesi Mo was conducting her security test patrol.

But she currently lacks the energy to ponder why the Security Test Staff's footsteps would make metallic clanking sounds.

She now only hopes that classmate Ge Lei Xiu will put away the drawing board before the next class begins.

At least put it away for one class.