Chapter One: A Little Tale After the Rain

Rainy Day

Dark clouds draped the sky, raindrops tumbled from the heavens, and the window rattled with their rhythm as the boy sat there, shrouded in gloom and confusion.

Lu Mingfei watched the figure beneath his window, umbrella in hand, receding into the distance. His gaze grew distant and unfocused. He couldn’t help but lean on his desk and wonder in silence, “Chen Wenwen… What does she think about on rainy days?”

A gentle and kind-hearted girl, refined and artistic—surely, at such a moment, her thoughts would be brimming with poetry and romance.

He could never forget that afternoon: Chen Wenwen, dressed in a white dress, sat atop the teacher’s desk humming a tune, smiling as she invited him to join the literature club. That radiant smile was brighter than sunlight, her voice more melodious than any song.

It was all too easy for the windows of a young heart to be thrown open. Inside his room, he dreamed of the girl outside; he watched from afar, his spirit soared, and though separated by walls, he fell in love—nourished by nothing more than a simple smile.

“Hey, school’s over and you’re still hanging around? What are you staring at out the window?”

A clear, crisp voice rang out behind him. Lu Mingfei’s expression shifted ever so slightly; he didn’t even need to look to know who it was—Su Xiaoqiang, the proud little lady of Shilan High.

“Let me guess… Is it Chen Wenwen?”

The girl’s eyes sparkled with mischief and mockery, pride mingled with a touch of disdain. What she saw wasn’t a person but an amusing, lowly creature for her entertainment.

Lu Mingfei quickly looked away, an uncomfortable feeling stirring inside him. He thought to himself, “All I did was say Chen Wenwen was the prettiest girl in class at the start of the semester—does she have to keep targeting me for so long? Really…”

But what could he do, even so?

He could only sigh helplessly, feigning indifference as he retorted, “Of course not.”

“Hmph!”

Su Xiaoqiang clearly didn’t believe a word. She plopped down on his desk, looming over him, and scoffed, “Tch, what’s so special about her, anyway? What makes her worth your time?”

Hearing his beloved spoken of so dismissively, Lu Mingfei sat up straighter, raising his head and meeting her gaze with the eyes of a lion.

But in that instant, as the little lady’s eyes met his, he felt as if he were staring down the barrel of a hunting rifle—and a lion can never best a gun. In the end, he didn’t have the courage to stand; he opened his mouth, but the words caught in his throat.

Finally, in a barely audible mumble, he said, “If you care so much about who I’m thinking of, could it be you like me?”

Su Xiaoqiang’s expression flickered, but she quickly regained her composure, sneering, “Don’t flatter yourself. Everyone knows I like Zhao Menghua. Don’t get any ideas.”

Lu Mingfei fell silent for a moment, then asked, “Why would liking him conflict with liking me?”

Su Xiaoqiang: ?

“The emperor had three thousand beauties in his harem. You’re amazing—liking me too wouldn’t be so strange, would it?” The boy gazed out at the rain, spinning out his nonsense in a soft voice.

The rain fell on, a steady patter.

In the dim classroom, the proud girl on the desk was briefly lost in confusion, but a flush soon crept across her cheeks, and her chest rose and fell in agitation.

Perhaps it was shyness, or perhaps it was anger.

Soon, Su Xiaoqiang glared at him fiercely, snapping, “Filthy little monkey!”

With that, she snatched up her bag and strode away, her movements swift and decisive, betraying not a hint of regret.

Yet, even as she left, the little lady found herself thinking, “Why do I keep getting close to this guy? His grades are average, he’s hopeless at sports, his personality’s a mess, and he’s always hung up on Chen Wenwen! She’s not even as pretty as me, nor is her figure as good—why her? Why?”

“From now on, I’m going to put him in his place—every chance I get, I’ll give him a piece of my mind. He’s such an oblivious idiot!”

Bang!

The classroom door slammed shut, startling Lu Mingfei into a flinch.

How terrifying.

Squinting instinctively, he glanced at the little window in the door, meeting the little lady’s eyes one last time. Her gaze was sharp as a blade, her flawless profile stamped with caprice and imperiousness.

Suddenly, Lu Mingfei began to doubt: Could Zhao Menghua really handle this proud little peacock?

Even if he was the second coming of Chu Zihang, he was still only “the second,” not a new name to eclipse his predecessor. Would someone like him dare accept the little lady’s love?

Tsk, tsk… He didn’t seem as good as Chen Wenwen.

After a fleeting moment of comfort and pride, Lu Mingfei realized, perhaps a bit too late, that a peculiar sense of crisis was settling over him, condensing above his head—a silent, red warning.

The reason was simple: he suddenly remembered that Chen Wenwen had invited not only him, but also Zhao Menghua. Which meant… Zhao Menghua might very well become his rival in love.

“No… it can’t be. An invitation doesn’t necessarily mean anything. I… I still have a pretty good chance,” Lu Mingfei muttered quietly, but his smile was strained.

Soon, a bitter taste seeped through that forced smile, for he realized that if he swapped Zhao Menghua’s name for his own in that sentence, it made just as much sense.

His laughter became painful, almost to the point of tears—but after a good cry, it would be nothing. A sad little monkey quickly forgets the reason for his tears, and soon enough he would go on laughing, carefree and oblivious, through the days to come.

If you don’t forget a little each day,

A foolish child won’t last long in this world.

But at the very least, Lu Mingfei hoped the thing he forgot wasn’t the English vocabulary he’d memorized yesterday.

Hey, there you go again, babbling nonsense in your head. What a fool.

He sighed.

The boy stood up, gazing around the now-empty classroom. His heart felt just as hollow. He slung his bag over his shoulder and walked to the door, only to realize—he hadn’t brought an umbrella.

No, really? Could he be that unlucky?

He checked his pockets. Not even enough money to buy an umbrella.

Well…

Lu Mingfei turned stiffly to look outside at the torrents of rain, at his own thin, pitiable clothing, at the small backpack on his shoulders. It felt as if his heart had stopped beating.

…

A few minutes later, clutching his schoolbag, the boy sprinted through the rainy night, using his frail body as a shield for his bag. His soaked shoes slapped against the wet pavement—flap, flap, flap—like a soldier fleeing a battlefield in utter defeat.

“Hahaha, ha, hahahaha!”

Inside a Maybach, Su Xiaoqiang watched Lu Mingfei’s sorry state and broke into genuine laughter. Seeing him so bedraggled filled her with a schadenfreude she couldn’t suppress.

Silly little monkey! Silly little monkey!

If only he’d speak nicely to me, go along with my mood… maybe I would have given him a ride, spared him a little discomfort.

Hmph, what a fool!

“Miss.”

The driver spoke up softly.

“Uh… Ahem.” Su Xiaoqiang realized she was losing her composure, quickly wiped away her smile, and said, “No need to wait—let’s go home. He doesn’t need my help, and if I’m too late, Father will complain.”

“…Understood.”