When Everyone Started Getting the Wrong Idea

“Young Master, you’re back.”

As Pei Du entered the classroom, Zhao Yu greeted him eagerly, standing up from his seat and hurrying over while fiddling with his phone.

“Mm.” Pei Du returned to his seat, waiting for Zhao Yu to continue.

“I found something good,” Zhao Yu lowered his voice, looking a little sneaky. “I sent it to you, Young Master. Remember to check it.”

After saying that, he went back to his seat without giving Pei Du a chance to ask what this “good thing” was.

Curiosity piqued, Pei Du took out his phone.

When he opened the messaging app, the first thing that popped up was a friend request from He Chengxi.

Seeing the note attached, he paused briefly, then accepted.

He Chengxi had been able to respond calmly to the idle joke he—a near stranger—had made. She understood propriety, knew when to advance or retreat, and possessed strong empathy.

Both her personality and her actions aligned well with his values.

As a friend, she was worth getting to know.

Almost the moment he accepted, He Chengxi—apparently waiting on the other end—sent a message.

“Classmate Pei, I’m really sorry about earlier. Because of me, Classmate Xu bothered you.”
(A sticker of a kitten bowing in apology)

Pei Du didn’t react much. He didn’t consider Xu Daohui’s little tricks to be “bothering.”

Moreover, he had always ignored people who weren’t worth his attention.

Still, He Chengxi’s empathy—or rather, her habit of constantly worrying about inconveniencing others—deepened Pei Du’s impression of her as gentle and considerate.

“It’s fine.”

After replying, Pei Du felt that she really didn’t need to keep apologizing to others.

From morning until now, she had been thinking too much from other people’s perspectives.

So he added another message.

“It has nothing to do with you. No need to apologize.”

After sending it, he went to look for Zhao Yu’s message.

It was a video with a black screen.

Pei Du downloaded it, then exited the chat without changing his expression.

He would watch it properly after school.

Another notification popped up—a new message from the girl.

“Thank you for your understanding, Classmate Pei.”
“If Classmate Xu bothers you again, please tell me.”
(A cute sticker of a cat playing with yarn)
(Another cute sticker of cats stacked together)

Did she really like cats? Or did she just like cute stickers?

Pei Du looked at the flashy stickers, unsure how to reply.

“Okay.”

In the end, he simply sent one word to show he understood.

Turning off his phone, Pei Du entered study mode.

Though seniors were allowed free time, since he had already relaxed during P.E., he needed to study seriously during this break.

His ability to consistently rank seventh in the grade didn’t come from talent alone—it came from discipline: knowing when to relax and when to focus.

If he had buried himself in nonstop studying, he might have ranked even higher.

But this balance ensured his youth wasn’t filled with nothing but endless problems and test papers; it had other colors too.

At East High, first- and second-year students finished school at 5:35 p.m.

Boarders had evening self-study from 8:30 to 10:00 p.m. before returning to the dorms.

For seniors, there was a break from 5:35 to 7:00 p.m., followed by evening self-study from 7:00 to 8:10 p.m.

Right outside East High’s gate was a subway station.

Pei Du’s home was only one stop away, making his commute very short.

This was also why Zhao Yu had time to go to his house for birthday cake during dinner.

Time passed quickly in the science class after P.E.

After finishing several problems and half a practice paper, it was already dismissal time.

It was only 5:30 p.m., yet dusk had already settled, and the sky was growing dark.

April days in Jiangcheng were just that short.

“Young Master, should we buy something to eat at your place?”

The after-school path was crowded—a sea of students in different-colored uniforms squeezing through the passage.

First-years wore blue and white, second-years gray and white, and third-years—symbolizing good luck—red and white.

Zhao Yu had just declined an invitation from other friends to eat at the nearby snack street, all to celebrate Pei Du’s birthday.

“What do you want to eat?” Pei Du asked.

He didn’t have any particular cravings and was fine with whatever Zhao Yu wanted.

“Young Master, what do you want to eat?”

“It’s up to you.”

“Hm… maybe some braised dishes?”

“Okay.” After thinking for a moment, Pei Du added, “Just buy one or two things you really like. My family ordered a few dishes from the restaurant downstairs for me to pick up later. Two people can’t finish too much.”

“…You should’ve said that earlier, Young Master. Then we wouldn’t need to buy braised food.”

Since it was Pei Du’s treat, Zhao Yu felt awkward asking for anything expensive.

He’d assumed there wouldn’t be much besides cake, which was why he suggested braised dishes.

He hadn’t expected Pei Du’s family to have already ordered food.

“Buy it anyway. You might not like what they ordered.”

“Alright then.”

They were close, but proper courtesy never disappeared.

To both of them, this was a form of respect.

Constantly taking friends for granted didn’t make real friendships—only casual companions.

The snack street near East High was well-known.

Small stalls and major shops lined the road, forming a bustling scene that was even considered a must-visit spot in Jiangcheng.

Pei Du and Zhao Yu went to a familiar braised food stall, bought some ham and beef, and chatted about newly released light novels and anime as they walked.

“Young Master, have you watched the video I sent you yet?”

“Not yet. I’ll watch it at home.”

“You get it, right? You have to really savor it. Hehehe.”

“…”

Zhao Yu’s lewd laugh raised Pei Du’s expectations for the video by a couple of points.

The boy’s handsome features, touched with a faint smile, became even more eye-catching—to the point that passing girls turned to look again and again.

“Pei Du! You’re buying snacks too?”

A fresh, jasmine-scented fragrance drifted over.

Chen Xintian, linking arms with Chen Xinmei, stepped around Zhao Yu and walked up beside Pei Du.

“Classmate Zhao Yu, you’re here too.”

“Yeah, I came out with Young Master to buy some food.”

Zhao Yu knew Chen Xintian likely had feelings for Pei Du.

He’d seen her approach Pei Du to talk many times, though he’d never gotten such a close look at the gossip before.

Now he had a front-row seat.

Just thinking about his good brother being hit on again made him want to laugh.

It wasn’t jealousy—just pure amusement.

“I heard there’s a beef noodle shop further in that’s really good,” Chen Xintian said, noticing Zhao Yu was only holding braised food and guessing they hadn’t decided on a main dish. “Want to go try it with us?”

Her eyes curved with her smile, bright and lively.

As she spoke, Chen Xintian subtly glanced at Pei Du’s rolled-up sleeves, lifted due to the lingering heat from exercise.

Unlike the typical slender “student build,” his arms were strong and full, carrying a sense of power.

His uniform seemed almost stretched by his frame, the outline beneath hinting at defined muscles.

Thinking of something, the girl swallowed lightly.

She had long felt that Pei Du possessed a certain kind of physical allure.

One summer, when he’d been playing basketball in a T-shirt and a sudden downpour soaked him, the wet fabric outlining his physique perfectly, that impression had deepened.

It was a raw, instinctive appeal—not vulgar, but unmistakable.

His powerful build paired with his refined, handsome face stirred something difficult to ignore.

At that moment, the girl quietly set a grand goal for herself.

She believed this was fate.

Otherwise, why would she have happened to pass by that residential basketball court on the very day he was there?

It had to be destiny.