Chapter 21: Comrade Campus Belle, Are You Still Angry With Me?

A total power outage across the entire school during evening self-study—now, that was the kind of thing that set hearts ablaze. Even after years, a decade perhaps, the memories of what transpired in that darkness would be inked in vivid, unforgettable colors within everyone’s “youth manual.”

At this very moment, it wasn’t just Class 28 of Grade 12 erupting into chaos—the entire corridor, the whole senior-year building, indeed the whole campus, was an uproar of shrieks and howls. For students with little interest in studying, the school had instantly transformed from hell into paradise.

In the corridor, the grade director, Ge Ritian, swept his flashlight back and forth, his booming reprimands echoing from time to time.

“What are you doing there! Who’s hiding? Get back to your own classroom!”

“Don’t run! Don’t run! Hey, hey! You two, a boy and a girl, what are you doing in the corner? Which class are you from?!”

“Put your pants on!”

“You dare run?! Stop right there!”

…

Su Miaomiao listened to the scolding outside and sighed. She simply slumped on the lectern, resigned. Only Liu Wei, the homeroom teacher, could handle this now—she commanded far more authority than Su Miaomiao, the English teacher.

Suddenly, Su Miaomiao’s body froze; she felt a dark shadow flicker before her, and then someone’s hand brushed her calf.

What was going on?!

“Oh my god—”

Regaining her senses, Su Miaomiao leapt to her feet, panic-stricken, and scurried off to the office, her high heels clattering in terror.

She was done trying to enforce discipline—whoever wanted to could take over!

Amid the surrounding commotion, Zheng Yifeng couldn’t be bothered to care; he simply buried his head on his desk and continued sleeping.

But suddenly, he felt something light, warm, and soft—like the fleeting touch of a dragonfly’s wing—on his cheek.

Zheng Yifeng’s eyes flew open.

In the darkness, the room was a blur of moving shapes. He had no idea who had just kissed him.

“Who’s there?”

He touched his cheek, his voice startled.

Remembering that Zhong Jincheng sat to his right, he immediately whirled around and roared, “Zhong Jincheng, are you out of your mind?!”

Had the guy gone mad from hunger?

But Zhong Jincheng had abandoned his seat long ago, and the real culprit who had stolen that kiss had already slipped away.

In the darkness, chaos reigned.

Gao Qiang, ever the master of atmosphere, was shrieking at the top of his lungs.

Lu Yuanqiu, half-kneeling on the floor, slowly raised his hand, struggling to breathe.

A pungent stench of feet hung in the air—clearly, the Biochemical Brothers had taken the opportunity to remove their shoes.

Darkness, oppression, tension, and stench—all manner of negativity closed in on Lu Yuanqiu.

He felt as though he were sinking deeper and deeper into a quagmire.

Fear of the dark was a psychological affliction he had never outgrown, not even into his thirties.

In a haze, he recalled that in his last life, he’d never attended these evening study sessions—so he had no memory of any school-wide blackout like this.

Despair crept over him.

“Lu Yuanqiu!”

A clear, anxious voice called his name by his ear.

For a moment, Lu Yuanqiu’s mind snapped into sharp focus.

A faint scent drifted over; he turned his head to see, in the gloom, the outline of Bai Qingxia crouched beside him.

“Are you afraid of the dark?”

She asked quickly, as if she instinctively understood his situation.

Before he could respond, Bai Qingxia helped him to his feet. His arm brushed against something soft, but he was in no state to notice.

Once upright, a small, warm, delicate hand slipped into his palm, and with practiced ease, she folded his hand in hers.

“Come with me.”

Her voice was gentle, almost soothing as one would comfort a frightened child.

She led the way, holding Lu Yuanqiu’s hand, and he followed obediently.

He couldn’t explain it—even though they were still enveloped in pitch blackness, the warmth of her hand dispelled much of his fear.

If, twelve years ago, someone had held his hand like this when he was trapped at the bottom of that dry well, Lu Yuanqiu believed he wouldn’t have been so afraid that night.

Bai Qingxia led him out of the corridor, down the stairs, and onto the wide-open field.

Above, the full moon hung bright and beautiful, scattering silver across the grass-covered field.

Though darkness still pressed in all around, the sight of the glowing moon eased him.

He collapsed onto the grass, drenched in cold sweat.

Bai Qingxia glanced at him, wishing to offer comfort, and quietly sat down beside him, hugging her knees.

Softly, she said, “Someone with nyctophobia shouldn’t stay in a cramped, airless dark place. If you can see something bright, it helps a lot.”

She smiled, pointing to the moon.

Bathed in the moon’s pure radiance, her innocent smile was breathtaking, like that of an angel in white.

She didn’t really feel like smiling, but Lu Yuanqiu needed reassurance. To ease his mood further, Bai Qingxia changed the subject, saying:

“But did you know, Lu Yuanqiu? The moon doesn’t shine on its own; it only reflects the sun’s light…”

“That’s a rather dull topic you’ve chosen,” Lu Yuanqiu interrupted.

Bai Qingxia pursed her lips and looked away silently.

The atmosphere grew awkward.

After all, the two of them had quarreled that afternoon.

Lu Yuanqiu turned to her. “How do you know so much about this?”

“My father has nyctophobia, too. He can’t sleep at night unless he leaves a lamp on,” Bai Qingxia replied, her tone subdued.

It was probably this topic—her father—that had caused their argument hours ago.

So that was it… Lu Yuanqiu lay back, folding his arms under his head, recalling the way Bai Qingxia had spoken to him, as if comforting a child.

Was it because she was used to comforting her father?

Perhaps because he shared her father’s affliction, Lu Yuanqiu suddenly felt less hostility toward the man.

After all, they’d suffered the same pain.

“Hey, Miss Campus Belle, are you still mad at me?”

Lu Yuanqiu turned to ask.

Bai Qingxia sat hugging her knees, her small figure curled up like a dumpling.

She kept silent.

“Say something,” Lu Yuanqiu urged.

She glanced at him, then looked away again, lips pressed tight.

Clearly, she was still angry…

Lu Yuanqiu felt a pang of frustration.

She’d given him the cold shoulder all afternoon, and still hadn’t cooled off?

Just then, he had an idea.

A moment later, Bai Qingxia heard a low, trembling sound from beside her. She turned and saw Lu Yuanqiu curled up like a shrimp, his whole body shuddering.

“Lu Yuanqiu, what’s wrong?!”

Her face drained of color as she hurried over, grabbing his shoulders to straighten him up.

His body was slick with sweat—though in truth, it was sweat from earlier.

His lips trembled as he clutched her arm. “I’m so scared…”

“Scared?” Bai Qingxia echoed anxiously, helpless for a moment. Then she quickly looked up at the moon.

There was no other way—she immediately helped Lu Yuanqiu sit up.

He was broad and heavy, and she had to use all her strength to prop him up, then shifted behind him, letting his upper body rest in her lap. With both hands she gently righted his head.

“Lu Yuanqiu, look at the moon!”

But Lu Yuanqiu had no mind for the moon at all…

How could anything be this soft… The warmth and scent behind him were almost too much to bear.