The young man had not yet received his school uniform and was dressed all in black. His strides were somewhat lazy, and as he approached, he noticed the two students punished at the classroom door. His slightly sharp gaze swept over and met the girl’s distinct black and white eyes.
Shen Mo had severe face blindness and was poor at distinguishing the beauty or plainness of faces, but when he met the girl’s eyes, he felt as if he were stepping into a Jiangnan courtyard, gazing upon a tranquil pond surrounded by pavilions.
Clean, warm, graceful.
As he brushed past the girl, Shen Mo withdrew his gaze, returning to his usual reserved and almost obscure cool demeanor.
…
Liang Ping introduced Shen Mo to the entire class from the podium and then assigned him to a prominent seat.
“Come on in, you two,” Liang Ping called out to the door.
Jing Nian and Hua Jie entered, and with a stern face, Liang Ping gestured for them to return to their seats, which they obediently did.
Shen Mo looked up and met Hua Jie’s gaze again until she obediently sat down beside him.
So the mischievous girl who had been punished by the teacher at their first meeting was his deskmate.
The bell for class rang, the class president shouted, “Stand up!”, the students rose and chorused “Hello, teacher~”, to which Liang Ping replied, “Sit down,” starting the first period with mathematics.
As Liang Ping turned to write on the board, the girls in the class hadn’t yet recovered from their shock.
Their gazes swept over Shen Mo; those who could see his profile felt lucky, while those who could only see the back of his head thought even that was a head with extraordinary charisma—
He was really too handsome!
Looking at Hua Jie, who was sitting beside him, the classmates who had pitied her just minutes before suddenly felt sour.
Even Bian Ying was dumbfounded.
The classmates who had pitied Hua Jie before now felt completely different:
Hua Jie was just too lucky!
She must have saved the galaxy in her past life!
They were green with envy!
…
The rustling sounds of a book being shaken on the desk by a nearby teenager intermittently captured Hua Jie’s attention. His presence was too imposing, the chill of early autumn seeping into her nostrils as she adjusted her grip on the pen.
In the morning light, specks of dust floated in the air, stirred up as Shen Mo tidied his desk.
Hua Jie gazed down at the mathematics book, her notebook, and draft book in front of her, took a deep breath, and then looked up at the blackboard with undivided attention.
Compared to her younger self, she now possessed greater self-control. Years of drawing had not only increased her endurance but also her ability to concentrate.
Minutes later, she was completely immersed in the sea of learning, oblivious to the temptations of beauty around her.
Although her seat of honor was too close to the blackboard and right next to the window, making her view quite skewed, her vision of the teacher’s chalkboard writing was exceptionally clear.
Hua Jie was pleased with such a change, gently stroking her eyelid, enjoying the benefits of her new seating arrangement.
As long as I keep it up, the nickname ‘Goldfish Eyes’ will never catch up to me!
Sitting beside her, Shen Mo, with a casual glance around the class, felt overwhelmed by the sea of heads. To him, suffering from face blindness, it seemed like a room full of identical potatoes—
The only differences were the sizes of the potatoes and the length and quantity of hairs on them.
He slightly furrowed his brow, leaned back in his chair, and casually draped his arm over the back, sitting in a lazy, slanted posture.
His gaze unintentionally swept across his deskmate’s ‘doll-like potato’ face, catching a glimpse of her upturned smile.
“…”
Is she really that in love with math?
To smile so blissfully just from listening to a lecture?
Such a classmate is rare; she must be a top student.
That’s what Shen Mo thought.
…
After the second period, the eye exercises music immediately filled all the teaching buildings as soon as the break bell rang.
Hua Jie’s posture was the most standard in the class, and her seriousness in performing the exercises was arguably the best in the school.
Shen Mo only did a couple before he found it boring, turning to see the ‘doll-like potato’ performing the exercises with a devout attitude, which made him frown.
He looked up to meet the disapproving gaze of the class teacher sweeping over, sheepishly closed his eyes, and continued to weakly press the acupressure points around his eyes.
As soon as the eye exercises ended, the students erupted into noise, with the sounds of desks and chairs clashing and the laughter of young boys and girls mingling.
Shen Mo felt lethargic and slumped deeper into his chair, turning to look out the window. The previously empty playground was now bustling with activity.
As classmates passed by Hua Jie, they often struck up a casual conversation with her.
Bored, Shen Mo quickly noticed that not all students knew each other; most hadn’t even memorized the names of their classmates. So how did it seem like everyone knew Hua Jie?
Feeling irritable in this unfamiliar environment, Shen Mo became unintentionally curious about his deskmate and couldn’t help but take a closer look.
Having lost his mother early and with a father who was extremely reclusive, Shen Mo had led a rather solitary life and knew almost nothing about women.
This made his face blindness even worse when it came to female classmates.
After observing Hua Jie for a long time, he could only discern that her gaze was clear and tranquil, beyond that, he couldn’t distinguish anything else.
Left with his curiosity, he decided to drop the matter for the time being.
…
After the broadcast exercises, there was plenty of time left in the long break. The girls held hands and headed to the restroom, while the boys began running wildly around the playground.
Among the many students in school uniforms, Shen Mo, dressed in black casual wear, was particularly conspicuous.
Many students from his junior high school days were either in the same school or class as him, so there were quite a few people in the crowd who recognized him.
He casually strolled alone to the basketball court, hands in pockets, and started watching.
Finally, a male student who was substituted off the basketball court approached him with a smile and took the initiative to greet him:
“Shen Mo, you’ve transferred here too.”
This student was tall and stood out among the freshman in high school.
Shen Mo stared at him for a moment and asked indifferently, “Who are you?”
He wasn’t being provocative; he genuinely couldn’t recognize the other person’s identity from his face.
The boy felt offended, as if the surrounding students were mocking him with their expressions. His friendly greeting seemed almost sycophantic.
Conflicts and fights among teenagers often stem from trivial misunderstandings.
In a small northern town, disputes can start over a simple ‘What are you looking at?’
But for Shen Mo, most disputes around him arose from his frequent, ‘Who are you?’
He genuinely didn’t recognize people and was adamant that he wasn’t wrong, so he never changed his ways.
Thus, a one-against-many ‘group fight’ erupted at the basketball court, just two periods after Shen Mo transferred to this school.
However, the conflict arose quickly and ended just as swiftly.
With his extensive fighting experience, Shen Mo quickly drove off the several boys surrounding him—
His trick was simple: no matter how many people fought him, he would just focus on one person and hit hard.
He knew exactly where to strike to cause the most pain and make someone back down, never showing any mercy.
Sure enough, in the chaotic melee, as a crowd attacked him haphazardly, the punches and kicks that actually reached him were few.
But the one he focused on relentlessly couldn’t hold out anymore, howling in pain and begging for a stop.
The others, seeing the sorry state of the person Shen Mo was beating, were alarmed. Some were eager to challenge him, but the fear of being the next target of Shen Mo’s fierce beating held them back.
Thus, the group fight ended smoothly.
Everyone looked around at each other, somewhat disheveled but not seriously hurt.
Except for the boy Shen Mo had singled out—
His face was swollen, hair a mess, both lips and cheekbones broken, clothes torn, and the back of his pants and thighs covered in shoe prints.
Shen Mo’s shoe prints.
Ultimately, the fight didn’t escalate to the teachers or school leaders. Several boys sequentially reported their names to Shen Mo, marking an end to the incident.
Everyone clearly understood: if Shen Mo asks ‘Who are you?’, the correct response isn’t to fight, but to promptly give your name.
Shen Mo’s reputation quickly spread across the campus, and even those who hadn’t met him heard of his formidable name.
…
After the fight, Shen Mo replaced a classmate he had disabled, played basketball for less than ten minutes, scoring two three-pointers and a slam dunk.
When the prep bell rang, he casually passed the basketball to a male classmate nearby, whose name he didn’t know, and strolled back to the school building.
He didn’t remember the names of these ‘ball friends’ he had just made.
But that didn’t matter. Next time he wanted to play basketball or soccer, if anyone dared to challenge him, he’d just beat them into submission again.
Passing by the school building, he glanced at his reflection in the glass door and ran his fingers through his short hair.
He loved his short hair, convinced no one had hair smoother, sleeker, or shinier than his.
After exercising, he paid special attention to their shape.
Smiling slightly at his reflection in the glass door, Shen Mo then continued on his way, satisfied.
Around him, young girls couldn’t help but steal glances, perhaps sparked by a fleeting, stunning glimpse.
When he returned to the classroom, Shen Mo saw his deskmate, ‘Doll-head Potato,’ quietly drawing at her desk.
He finally understood why she was so popular—
It seemed the whole class was asking her to draw for them, and she was even making money from it, looking pretty cool.
Because his father was a painter, Shen Mo had complex feelings about this art, which made him pay even more attention to Hua Jie.
After watching her for a while, he spoke to his new deskmate for the first time:
“You’re quite talented.”
He noticed that the girl observed her subject very seriously, yet when she started to draw, she never just copied the original composition and details.
She even created her own backgrounds, intentionally omitting some details or adding others, making her drawings more beautiful than the originals.
This was probably the charm of painting as opposed to photographs; it presents not just what people can see, but also conveys the creator’s aesthetic and artistic re-creation ability.
A thought flashed through his mind, and without waiting for Hua Jie’s response, he already curled up his lips in a smile, exuding an invincible air.
With the youthful arrogance of someone young and promising.
He was truly a perceptive person, able to instantly see through the essence and appreciate others, incredibly smart!
Although Hua Jie had quietly observed him for three years, she had never interacted with him, so her understanding was very superficial. Watching his smile, she was somewhat puzzled.
“Is drawing really that joyful?” Pleased with his own astute recognition, Shen Mo looked at the puzzled expression on little Potato’s face and initiated conversation again.
“?” Hua Jie was confused, her delicate, overly soft eyebrows arching high.
“You’re always smiling.” He pointed out.
“…” Hua Jie was startled, touched her lips, and realized they were indeed curving up without her awareness.
She was actually smiling.
Her heart was suddenly stirred, and the emotions that had been bubbling up inside her over the past few days surged forth.
The girl was caught in a long shock, unable to extricate herself.
How much do I really love drawing?
Setting aside habit, she suddenly asked herself seriously.
All the details of these days undoubtedly confirmed the depth of her affection.
The teacher was already standing at the classroom door, so she put away her drawing, opened her textbook and notebook, and tried to pull herself out of her overwhelming emotions.
After a few deep breaths, she finally felt a bit better, though her fingers gripping the pen were still cold, and her slightly moist eyes still held the lingering effects of her emotional turmoil.