Chapter Nineteen: With an Ulterior Motive

Standing at the podium, Ye Mian’s gaze drifted to the empty seat in front of Jiang Chen. She took a deep breath, calming the flutter of nerves before beginning her introduction: “Hello, everyone. My name is Ye Mian. I hope in the days ahead we can all work hard and learn together.”

She finished with poise, and a warm round of applause rose from below.

The students in Class One chimed in enthusiastically:

“Welcome! Welcome! Welcome, new classmate!”

“Thank you, everyone.” Ye Mian flashed a radiant smile at her new classmates, gave a slight bow, then hugged her books to her chest and made her way to the empty seat in the second-to-last row.

After arranging her desk, Ye Mian looked up contentedly, gazing out the window. From today onward, she was a student of Class One.

By chance, her eyes landed on the glass window. Reflected there was the profile of the boy seated behind her. He was upright, writing intently, his long lashes lowered, slender fingers poised on a black pen, each movement accentuating his deep, inky gaze.

He didn’t look at her; it was as if he hadn’t noticed someone had taken the seat in front of him.

Ye Mian dutifully withdrew her gaze and began reading. It was only polite not to disturb others when they were studying.

The gentle summer morning was still pleasantly cool. The scent of trees lingered in the classroom air. As soon as the bell rang, the students poured out to stretch their legs.

Ye Mian, however, stayed behind. Resting her chin on her hand, she glanced back but didn’t speak to Jiang Chen.

Her gaze drifted downward, landing on his desk.

Jiang Chen’s workspace was immaculate—only textbooks and a water bottle, unlike other students who cluttered their desks with trinkets.

Beneath his water bottle lay a freshly issued grade report. Ye Mian glanced at it casually, then her eyes widened in disbelief.

Perfect scores in every subject.

How was that even possible?

Stunned, Ye Mian looked up, unable to maintain any semblance of composure. She was consumed by curiosity—was Jiang Chen’s mind somehow different from everyone else’s?

As she stared, Jiang Chen suddenly looked up.

And—

Their eyes met, abruptly and without warning.

Ye Mian froze.

Well, this was embarrassing.

Caught in the act of peeking.

She hadn’t had time to look away.

Jiang Chen’s gaze followed hers to the grade report on his desk. The corners of his cool, quiet eyes lifted ever so slightly. He showed no irritation at being disturbed, but his voice was low as he asked, “What are you looking at?”

Ye Mian hastily composed her expression, not daring to admit she’d been trying to figure out the workings of a genius’s mind. She rummaged in her desk and produced a bar of chocolate she’d brought that morning, changing the subject with forced cheerfulness: “Um… I brought some chocolate. Would you like some? It’s not too sweet, and the flavor’s really nice.”

Perhaps her words sounded too deliberate and awkward.

Jiang Chen lowered his eyes to the chocolate on his desk but said nothing.

After a long pause, he suddenly looked at her, his gaze steady, voice tinged with resignation. “Ye Mian, about last time—it’s over. I’m not angry, and I don’t blame you.”

Ye Mian stared at him, momentarily lost. “Huh?”

The blue-and-white curtains billowed in the breeze.

Jiang Chen retrieved a familiar white coin purse from his bag and once again clipped it onto her backpack.

He said, “So you don’t need to feel guilty. You don’t need to do anything special because of it, and you certainly don’t need to pay me back.”

“That’s not it.” Seeing her good intentions mistaken for guilt, Ye Mian blinked and instinctively explained, “I’m not being nice to you out of guilt.”

“Then why?” Jiang Chen asked quietly.

“Because… um…”

His unexpected question left Ye Mian momentarily blank, and she began to reflect.

Why was she good to Jiang Chen? Out of conscience, perhaps? Maybe at first, but after that?

Because she knew he’d become someone important in the future? But she had no dreams of wealth or glory.

Every excuse she’d used before fell apart—she had no suitable answer left.

As she hesitated, Jiang Chen interrupted.

“So, what do you want?” he asked, tilting his head slightly, his gaze gentle but tinged with curiosity.

In his barren world, he understood one thing: even parents didn’t do things for someone without a reason.

Either it was foolish affection, or there was some agenda.

He didn’t believe the girl liked him.

But he couldn’t fathom what she was after.

Rather than guess, he wanted to ask directly.

The wind outside ceased, and the air grew warmer.

What a question!

Ye Mian’s mind cleared. Following his lead, she softened her tone and countered playfully, “Will you give me whatever I want?”

Her eyes sparkled, and she asked with utter sincerity.

Jiang Chen, for once, was startled. He turned to meet her gaze directly, then gave a soft, fleeting smile. “Yes. I will.”

“You’re very generous,” Ye Mian laughed, thinking he was joking. Her eyes curved in amusement, and she half-jested, “Then just be a good person from now on. Whatever happens, don’t break the law.”

She understood what Jiang Chen meant, and she knew he’d be capable of giving anything in the future.

But she truly had no ulterior motive. She simply wanted Jiang Chen to be well.

To be kind to someone good needed no reason.

Besides, Jiang Chen treated her decently, too.

Before Jiang Chen could reply, there was a tapping at the window.

Ye Mian looked over to see Jiang Yuan gesturing toward the bathroom.

Ye Mian immediately understood, stood up, told Jiang Chen she’d be right back, pressed the chocolate onto his desk, and skipped out the door.

Their conversation remained unfinished.

Watching her cheerful departure, Jiang Chen reflected on his answer, his gaze deepening.

He hadn’t been lying.

Nor had he changed his beliefs.

No one was good to someone else for no reason.

Yet with Ye Mian, he’d never had an agenda.

——

The day passed swiftly.

After class, Ye Mian packed her books and left; Jiang Yuan was already waiting outside.

She was considerate—she rarely disturbed Jiang Chen at school, seldom chatted idly with him, and only approached when she needed help with something she didn’t understand.

For every student, senior year was like a second life.

If she distracted Jiang Chen, that would be unforgivable.

——

October arrived, and with it, National Day—the school granted a seven-day break.

As the months changed, the seasons grew more distinct.

Overnight, the leaves in River City began to yellow, and the temperature dropped enough for light jackets.

On the first day of break, strong winds battered the windows, rattling them noisily. Ye Mian kicked off her quilt in the middle of the night, and the wind chilled her stomach.

A dull ache began to form.

Half-awake, Ye Mian pressed her hand to her abdomen and rubbed, but the pain only grew sharper. Within minutes, she curled into a ball like a wounded rabbit.