2. Air Conditioner

After a few days, Pei Huan had already become well acquainted with the people around her—everyone except for Lu Yinghuai. The only words she'd exchanged with him in all that time had been to ask him to move so she could leave her seat, and nothing more.

During class, Pei Huan would sometimes sneak glances at Lu Yinghuai. A few times, she'd been caught and would quickly feign interest in the scenery outside, her heart pounding with guilt. His bearing was nothing like that of an ordinary family’s child; an aura of chilling indifference surrounded him, making him seem unapproachable. Other than the school uniform, Pei Huan couldn’t tell what brands he wore, but it all looked expensive. He was probably the young master of some wealthy and powerful family.

Everyone knew that Ma Fei liked to watch the surveillance cameras to see who in class was sneaking in a chat. But sometimes boredom won out, and when Pei Huan came to chat, they would join in. Occasionally, when Pei Huan couldn’t keep still, she’d start talking to her “air conditioner”—her nickname for the silent Lu Yinghuai. Though he never responded, Pei Huan would still chatter on enthusiastically.

Lu Yinghuai would glance at the endlessly talking girl out of the corner of his eye, the words “be quiet” on the tip of his tongue, but he always swallowed them back down. On the first day, he’d found her constant babbling rather noisy, but having been alone for so many years, used to people avoiding him for his cold demeanor and expressionless face, it didn’t seem so bad to have someone next to him talking, after all.

That afternoon, it was Pei Huan’s turn for classroom duty, and Lu Yinghuai was assigned with her. The others finished quickly and left, but Pei Huan was always slow, so in the end, only she and Lu Yinghuai remained.

She glanced at him and asked, “Why haven’t you left yet?”

Lu Yinghuai said nothing, his cold gaze landing on the broom in her hand. Pei Huan looked down too, suddenly remembering that Lu Yinghuai was supposed to mop the floor, but she needed to finish sweeping first. Awkwardly, she scratched her nose. “Sorry, I’ll sweep it now.”

She picked up the pace, quickly finishing the sweeping. Lu Yinghuai silently bent down and mopped the floor. Watching him, Pei Huan casually remarked, “Do you not like to talk? I’ve been your desk mate for days and haven’t said a word to you.”

Lu Yinghuai didn’t even pause in his movements. Not expecting an answer, Pei Huan continued, “You’re really good-looking, honestly, I’m kind of smitten. But you’re so tight-lipped, no matter what I say, you ignore me. Have you been through withdrawal or something, to have such self-control?”

Lu Yinghuai finished mopping, put the mop away, and Pei Huan went on, “But it doesn’t matter. As long as there’s someone to listen, I’m happy. Once I start talking, I can’t stop—even my brother gets annoyed.”

Lu Yinghuai walked back to his seat, put on his backpack, and left. Pei Huan watched his retreating figure and pouted.

What a strange person.

At the school gate, her brother Pei Yan was already waiting. Seeing her come out, he called, “What took you so long cleaning up?”

“The classroom’s too big, it’s a real hassle,” Pei Huan grumbled.

Pei Yan just snorted; he was immune to her ready excuses by now.

Passing by the convenience store, Pei Huan spotted the ice cream freezer outside and tugged at Pei Yan’s sleeve. “Brother, I want some ice cream.”

He glanced at the freezer, indifferent. “If Mom finds out I let you eat ice cream outside, she’ll have my head.”

“Then we’ll keep it a secret. We won’t tell Mom, okay?” Pei Huan bargained.

Pei Yan remained firm, refusing to buy it for her, but in the end, unable to resist her persistent pleading, he relented, giving her a sidelong glance. “Just this once. Next time, no matter what you say, I won’t buy it.”

Pei Huan nodded eagerly, looking thoroughly sincere.

With her wish granted, ice cream in hand, Pei Huan was all smiles. Watching his little sister, Pei Yan found his mood inexplicably lifted, and casually asked, “By the way, have you settled into your new class?”

“It’s great,” Pei Huan replied, tearing open the last bit of wrapping. “Everyone’s easy to get along with.”

“Is there a Lu Yinghuai in your class?” Pei Yan asked.

Pei Huan looked at him in surprise. “You know him too?”

“There’s no one in our school who doesn’t,” Pei Yan snorted, relaxed. “He’s a real genius—won the national competition in his first year, always at the top of the grade rankings, excels in every subject, arts and sciences alike.”

Pei Huan had heard of Lu Yinghuai’s legendary exploits from Shen Qinshi before, and now, hearing it again from her brother, she felt this person really was shrouded in myth.

“He’s really that amazing?” Pei Huan marveled.

“Yeah,” Pei Yan nodded. “We all thought for sure he’d choose science, but he ended up picking the humanities—a choice few boys make. We were all surprised.”

Pei Huan thought of his face—it was the type that just looked like a science whiz. Why would he pick humanities? Not just Pei Huan, no one, not even onlookers like Pei Yan, could figure it out.

Lu Yinghuai was a man of many secrets.

“That year, after the national competition, he even earned a guaranteed spot at the country’s top university, but he turned it down,” Pei Yan said.

“I guess that’s a genius’s prerogative,” Pei Huan mused.

When they got home, their mother was already setting the table. Seeing them come in, she greeted them casually, then went back to her tasks.

That night, lying in bed, Pei Huan thought about what Pei Yan had said about Lu Yinghuai. She opened her chat with Shen Qinshi, wanting to learn more about her legendary desk mate.

Shen Qinshi’s gossip skills were unparalleled. In just a few minutes, she sent Pei Huan a detailed account of everything she’d mentioned in passing before. Reading through it, Pei Huan couldn’t help but exclaim in astonishment.

Who would have thought someone like her could end up desk mates with such a genius?

Somehow, Pei Huan felt she was squandering a rare opportunity.

“To be desk mates with someone like Lu Yinghuai, you really hit the jackpot,” Shen Qinshi sent in a voice message.

“I’m already secretly delighted, Shen Qinshi,” Pei Huan replied, sending a voice message back.

Shen Qinshi: “Look at you, so easily pleased.”

After a few more exchanges, they ended the conversation, and Pei Huan played on her phone a little longer before falling asleep.

The next morning, when Pei Huan came downstairs, Pei Yan was already at the table eating breakfast. He teased, “Well, up early today, aren’t you?”

“Go away,” Pei Huan retorted grumpily.

“You dare talk to your brother like that?” Pei Yan squinted at her.

Pei Huan flipped him off and listlessly gnawed on a steamed bun.

Their mother was well used to their daily bickering and simply called out, “If you two keep arguing, you’ll be late for school.”

With that warning, neither dared say another word, and after breakfast, they headed to school together.

They arrived at the classroom early. As soon as she sat down, Pei Huan tapped the back of the girl in front of her. “Hey, did you do the math homework? Lend it to me.”

The girl turned around and handed her the completed homework. Pei Huan thanked her and got to work copying.

She’d played on her phone too late last night and hadn’t done her homework, so she now had to rush to finish before the group leader collected it.

With just a minute to spare before the morning reading bell, Pei Huan finished and handed in her homework. Her new desk mate, Lu Yinghuai, arrived just as the bell rang, took his seat beside her, and said nothing.

It was their daily routine.

The first class was Chinese with Ma Fei. No matter how bold Pei Huan was, she wouldn’t dare act up in his class. She obediently listened, and by the end felt utterly exhausted, as if she’d been through a long battle. Lu Yinghuai, meanwhile, was uncharacteristically slumped over his desk.

Pei Huan didn’t pay much attention. From the moment he came in, she sensed something was off with his mood, but it wasn’t her business, so she didn’t pry.

While chatting with others, Pei Huan instinctively lowered her voice. The boy in front, however, spoke a bit too loudly, and Pei Huan reminded him, “Keep it down. Lu Yinghuai might be resting.”

The boy immediately quieted.

Lu Yinghuai, who’d been accused of resting, was simply lying down, not actually asleep. Hearing Pei Huan’s words, his eyes flickered, but in the next moment, something crossed his mind and his gaze became as still and lifeless as a dead pool.

After Chinese, it was math—Pei Huan’s least favorite class. She was secretly peeling pomelo segments she’d brought from home under the desk. Once peeled, she passed some to the two people in front and behind her, and was left with just two pieces. She glanced at the person beside her.

She’d given some to her front and back neighbors. Would it be rude not to offer any to her desk mate?

After an inner struggle, Pei Huan finally tapped Lu Yinghuai. He turned to look at her, his gaze pressing down on her, and she asked, “Do you want some pomelo?”

Lu Yinghuai looked at the fruit in her hand, then turned away.

That was a clear refusal. Pei Huan felt oddly relieved, and bent down to eat the pomelo herself in secret.

It really was sweet—what a pity that Lu Yinghuai wouldn’t try any.

Lu Yinghuai’s attention drifted from the teacher to the rustling sounds Pei Huan made as she ate. He glanced at her; she seemed to be enjoying the pomelo immensely, her face full of satisfaction.

When she finished, Pei Huan noticed his frank stare. “What are you looking at me for? I just asked if you wanted some; you said no. Don’t expect me to conjure more for you now.”

Lu Yinghuai: “……”

Strange girl.

Pei Huan looked at him too, secretly reaffirming her conclusion about him.

A strange, inexplicable, taciturn handsome guy.

Math class really was soporific. After her sneaky snack, Pei Huan listened for a few minutes before sleepiness took over. To make matters worse, today’s math lesson was a double period. Pei Huan’s expression was one of utter despair.

This was almost more unbearable than having an “air conditioner” like Lu Yinghuai sitting beside her.