Chapter 72: I Thought the Class President Was Angry With Me

Unlike the old residential complex where Chen Shian currently lived, Lin Mengqiu now resided in a high-end community.

The route was easy to follow: exit the school gate, turn left, walk straight for about fifteen minutes, then turn at the intersection, and within another two or three minutes, you’d arrive. Time-wise, it was about the same as Chen Shian’s walk back to his rented place, only their homes were on opposite sides of the school. If one were to walk from his rental to Lin Mengqiu’s house, it would take nearly half an hour.

As the sun set in the west and the noise of the school gate faded behind them, even though they were still on a bustling city street, Chen Shian felt the surroundings had grown much quieter.

Mainly, it was because Lin Mengqiu wasn’t speaking.

Ever since he caught up to her, the girl hadn’t uttered a single word, walking silently by his side.

Yet Chen Shian could tell that, after parting ways with Wen Zhixia, the competitive edge Lin Mengqiu wore like armor had softened considerably.

Who would have thought that two girls who were each so easy to get along with separately would become so tense and combative the moment they met?

Chen Shian was certain he wasn’t the problem, but he hadn’t anticipated the two girls dragging him into their little skirmish.

The relationship between Wen Zhixia and Lin Mengqiu was subtle and complex—calling them enemies was too much, but friends was not quite right either. It was that rare, pure kind of rivalry.

Fortunately, Chen Shian wasn’t one for internal drama, nor did he believe in forcibly introducing friends to one another in hopes they’d become friends too. Friendship, after all, was something that grew naturally through mutual understanding. Those suited to be friends would become friends sooner or later; those who weren’t, even if forced together, would eventually drift apart. Values and perspectives aligning was the most important thing.

Noticing Lin Mengqiu’s persistent, tight-lipped expression, the ever-carefree young Taoist asked straightforwardly, “Class President, didn’t you say you wanted to buy drinks? Where should we go?”

“Did I say that?”

“Yeah.”

“Aren’t you still coughing badly? Why would you want a drink?”

“Are you mad at me?”

As soon as Chen Shian asked, Lin Mengqiu’s tense expression visibly eased, her emotions slipping beneath the surface, replaced by her usual cool, inscrutable demeanor.

“Hm?”

“Why would I be mad?”

Even as the words left her lips, Lin Mengqiu was taken aback.

Right… What was she sulking about just now?

Was she mad at Wen Zhixia? Hardly—they’d always been like this.

Was she angry at Chen Shian? Well… he hadn’t done anything.

So what exactly was she upset about?

The more Lin Mengqiu thought about it, the more confused she became. Yet that sour and aggrieved feeling had been real—she couldn’t even articulate why, just that she’d felt bitter and vexed! She’d been fuming, but didn’t know at whom or how to vent her feelings.

If Chen Shian hadn’t asked, Lin Mengqiu had no doubt she’d have remained inexplicably annoyed all night.

Now, with reason restored, she couldn’t even sort out what she’d been stewing over…

“I thought you were angry at me, Class President.”

“…Don’t flatter yourself,” she replied, not wanting to engage.

She seemed to be pondering some difficult math problem, carefully unraveling her earlier emotions…

She’d competed with Wen Zhixia in academics for years, and at most it was a matter of not wanting to lose—not this odd, sour, suffocating feeling…

The girl who had been radiating cold earlier now looked dazed, as if stumped by a question.

Watching her walk, head bowed, as if a question mark hovered over her head, Chen Shian thought she resembled a lost little sparrow.

“Class President.”

“…?”

“Have you ever lived in that old apartment building over there?”

“Which old apartment?”

“…Do you own many properties?”

“Seven.”

“I mean the one I’m living in now.”

Lin Mengqiu thought for a moment, realizing which one he meant. Her family had so many apartments that, apart from the one she and her father currently occupied, the rest were all rented out.

She rarely paid attention to such things, but she did know her father had rented the old building to the right of the school to Chen Shian.

“I never lived there. My dad did for a few years, but after getting married, he didn’t anymore.”

“So you’ve always lived in this one?”

“Yes.”

As they chatted idly, the residential complex appeared ahead.

This, too, was an older community—if Lin Mengqiu had lived here since birth, the buildings had to be at least seventeen or eighteen years old.

But since it was designed as a luxury complex from the start and well maintained by the property management, the buildings didn’t look old from the outside. The amenities were all in place, and the landscaping was lush and thriving.

Unlike Chen Shian, who glanced around curiously, Lin Mengqiu was deeply familiar with this place after more than a decade.

She walked straight up the steps to the main entrance.

The gate operated with facial recognition. As she stood before the camera, the turnstile opened for her, and she stepped inside.

Chen Shian followed behind, but as he tried to enter, the turnstile locked with a click, barring his way.

“Huh?”

He stepped back and tried mimicking Lin Mengqiu in front of the camera, but it still didn’t let him in.

Lin Mengqiu was amused by his naïveté, though she suppressed her smile and said nothing. Nor did she help him immediately; letting him stew for a moment was oddly satisfying.

“That’s strange, Class President. How do you get in? It’s not like my place.”

“Your face isn’t in the system.”

“So what do I do?”

She didn’t answer, but pressed a button inside, unlocking the pedestrian gate on the far left.

“Go in through there.”

“Why didn’t you open it earlier! Petty revenge, huh? And you said you weren’t mad!”

Only now did Chen Shian walk in, and when he saw the switch right by her hand, he chuckled. “So you just open it from inside, huh. Heh heh…”

Heh, my foot! Minus one point for you!

Ignoring him, Lin Mengqiu turned and continued ahead.

The community was expansive, with decades of landscaping now flourishing. Strolling through the grounds in matching school uniforms, the two of them looked as though they’d entered a miniature park.

Soon, they entered Building 3.

The elevator lobby was tall and spacious. Lin Mengqiu pressed the up button and waited for one of the three elevators.

Chen Shian had never ridden an elevator before and asked curiously, “How does this work?”

“If you want to go up, press up; if you want to go down, press down.”

“Oh—”

“How many floors is this building?”

“Thirty-three.”

“Which floor do you live on?”

“Seventeenth.”

“Nice, right in the middle.”

The elevator soon arrived. Lin Mengqiu stepped in first, with Chen Shian behind her and a few other residents joining as well.

Seeing the panel of numbered buttons, Chen Shian, even with no prior experience, could guess their purpose. Before Lin Mengqiu could reach out, he pressed seventeen.

The girl quietly withdrew her hand and, like the others, faced the elevator doors.

Standing in front of her, Chen Shian’s tall, upright figure was all she could see.

As the doors closed, the space, though not small, felt stifling to Chen Shian—he was more accustomed to the open air. Seven people in this enclosed box made the air feel heavy.

Most people, uneasy in such close quarters with strangers, would pull out their phones or find something to do. Even Lin Mengqiu took out her phone.

But Chen Shian did nothing—just stood there, arms relaxed before him, posture straight as a pine.

Every now and then, he glanced at the floor display or at the advertisements pasted inside.

Lin Mengqiu was secretly impressed. What a strong sense of composure he had! She had no doubt that, had he not needed to press the button, he’d have stood there facing strangers the whole ride without flinching.

Ding.

The seventeenth floor.

As soon as the doors opened, Chen Shian stepped out and waited for Lin Mengqiu to lead the way.

“To the right,” she directed, turning right out of the elevator. He followed.

She stopped at the door marked [1701].

Rather than pulling out a key, she gripped the handle and pressed her thumb to the sensor. With a beep, the sturdy, elegant door—both secure and stylish—swung open.

“Class President, you don’t even need a key to open the door?”

“All the locks are smart now—facial and fingerprint recognition.”

“Not bad. Convenient.”

At the threshold, Chen Shian cleaned his shoes on the mat before following Lin Mengqiu into the entryway.

She bent down and took a pair of slippers from the cabinet for him.

Judging by eye, they seemed a bit small, so she fetched the largest pair—a new set, still in its packaging.

Her pale, delicate fingers worked at the transparent wrapper, tearing it open and setting the new slippers before him.

“Should I change shoes too?”

“Up to you. If you find slippers more comfortable, go ahead. If you dirty the floor, it’s fine—there’s a robot to clean it up.”

“You have a robot?”

“Just the cleaning kind.”

Seeing Lin Mengqiu sitting on a small stool to change her shoes, Chen Shian bent down to do the same.

Her slippers looked soft and well-worn—sky blue, simple, the heels slightly indented from use.

She took off her white sneakers, then peeled off her socks. Whether too tight or her skin too delicate, the elastic had left faint, patterned marks around her ankles.

Though Lin Mengqiu wasn’t short, her feet were especially dainty. The way she removed her socks was like peeling an eggshell, revealing a pair of pale, tender feet.

Clearly, the class president was diligent about hygiene; with Chen Shian’s keen sense of smell, he detected nothing unpleasant as she took off her socks.

He hadn’t been trying to sniff, just breathing normally.

Lin Mengqiu, on the other hand, sneaked a glance as he took off his shoes and socks, and discreetly wriggled her nose…

Thank goodness Chen Shian didn’t smell—otherwise, she’d have deducted ten points without hesitation. She couldn’t stand untidy boys.

“Where should I put my backpack?” Chen Shian asked after changing shoes.

“Anywhere.”

Seeing she wasn’t fussy about such details, he set his bag atop hers without ceremony.

Right, he nearly forgot the gift for Uncle Lin…

It was customary to bring a small present when visiting. Last time, he’d brought a tin of Snowbud tea, but that was then. Gifts were always appreciated, so this time he’d brought a canister of his own handmade incense.

To savor tea and appreciate incense was a refined pleasure; Uncle Lin would likely enjoy it.

As he opened his bag to retrieve the gift, Lin Mengqiu had already shuffled into the kitchen, her slippers clacking on the floor.

“Dad.”

“Oh, you’re back? Has Shian arrived?”

…Shian, Shian—such a big daughter standing right here, and all you care about is Shian!

Minus twenty points for you!