Chapter Ninety-Nine: Li Qianqian's Dilemma

Zhang Ye hesitated to ask too hastily; perhaps he was just a little late. Yet, sitting in the classroom, in his seat, a restless anxiety gnawed at him—an uneasy worry, even a flicker of apprehension. The classroom buzzed incessantly, the hum of voices grating on his nerves.

In his previous life, he and Li Qianqian had mutual feelings for each other, but due to their personalities and personal reasons, he never dared confess. Instead, it had been the quiet, shy, and somewhat timid Li Qianqian who took the courageous step to reveal everything to him, which left him feeling deeply guilty.

Now, having been given a second chance, determined to make amends, he had long planned to take the initiative and confess his feelings to her. But now, at this moment, she still hadn’t come to school, and worry overwhelmed him. Li Qianqian had always been obedient and well-behaved; if something serious hadn’t come up, there was no way she would miss registration.

With this thought, Zhang Ye hurriedly stood up, intending to find Huang Meixia to inquire about the situation.

“Teacher’s here,” a classmate suddenly called out, and the previously noisy classroom fell silent, as if dancers in a ballroom listening to wild music had suddenly lost their rhythm due to a power outage.

Frozen momentarily, Zhang Ye slowly sat back down. Out of respect for the teacher, he naturally didn’t want to put himself in a position where the homeroom teacher would single him out for reprimand.

The homeroom teacher’s name was Miao Jianghong—a name so feminine it was hard to imagine it belonged to a man. Yet it was. A middle-aged man, with a stern gaze, impeccably dressed and neatly groomed. His hair was cut short, and the black-rimmed glasses only intensified his serious demeanor.

“Registration begins now,” Miao Jianghong said with his characteristic straightforward style—no unnecessary words, just clear and direct. Having spent an entire year with the students, they were all familiar with his manner.

Naturally, Li Qianqian wasn’t the only one absent; at least Zhang Ye’s deskmate, Tong Xiaolong, was also missing, which brought Zhang Ye some consolation.

Since they were returning students, registration was simple. Everyone dutifully went up to the stage. The teacher spent half an hour collecting money and recording names, then it was time to move the books—a task left to the students seated in the last two rows. Not only because most of them were boys, but also because their academic performance was noticeably poorer than those in the front rows.

Miao Jianghong’s seating arrangement was always clear-cut: good students sat in front, struggling students sat in the back. Improvements earned you a front-row seat; poor grades consigned you to the rear. With his rich teaching experience, he understood the value of deliberately fostering competition.

Zhang Ye happened to sit in the third-to-last row. His height was decent—1.73 meters—which was three centimeters taller than when he had first been reborn. Besides being in a growth spurt, it owed much to long-term exercise and a healthy lifestyle. Among the students, he ranked seventh in height, though two girls were a centimeter taller than him, which vexed him somewhat. Thanks to his seating, he was spared the labor of moving books, though he didn’t mind it.

“Where’s Li Qianqian?” Seizing the moment when the students followed the teacher out to move books, Zhang Ye quickly approached the desks where Huang Meixia and Li Qianqian sat, ignoring the surprised glances from others, and asked.

Huang Meixia looked startled at first, then, noticing the gazes around her, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. She replied shyly, “There’s something going on at her home. Maybe she’ll come this afternoon.”

Since the last time Zhang Ye mentioned the gift he wanted to send to Li Qianqian’s mother, Huang Meixia had sensed something. Now, seeing Zhang Ye so concerned about Li Qianqian, her thoughts ran wild. The blush on her face was not merely from embarrassment but partly from the thrill of uncovering a secret.

“This afternoon? Can I ask what’s happened?” Zhang Ye frowned. Without knowing the full story, he couldn’t calm his mind.

“What else could it be? Her father…” Huang Meixia began, then stopped abruptly. “I haven’t said a word, so don’t ask me anymore.” It was clear that Li Qianqian had confided in her before, asking her to keep it a secret. She quickly denied any further information.

Zhang Ye achieved his purpose and didn’t press any further. He returned to his seat in silence. At that moment, cheers and whispers erupted in the classroom. The curiosity of youth made them keenly interested in the gossip sparked by Zhang Ye and Huang Meixia’s exchange.

Romance was strictly forbidden at this age, but for rebellious teenagers, the stricter the prohibition, the greater the allure. Each of them harbored secret crushes, often too afraid to express their feelings, sinking into melancholy and heartbreak. A mere glance, a careless smile, or a fleeting moment of closeness with someone else could send their minds into turmoil.

When someone broke the taboo—whether openly or by accidental discovery—the reactions were always intense and passionate.

Zhang Ye paid no heed to the teasing or the gossip; their opinions meant nothing to him. Starting anew, he saw those old restrictions, those prohibitions, and the seeming recklessness of youth in a whole new light.

What truly concerned him was what had happened to Li Qianqian’s father. He feared that her father might be a gambler or an alcoholic, whose debts or vices prevented her from attending school. Or perhaps he was simply a man stuck in outdated, patriarchal thinking, refusing to allow her education due to deep-seated prejudice.

He worried deeply but could only sit anxiously in the classroom, watching the teacher and students bring the books over and distribute them one by one. Staring at the neat piles of brand-new textbooks on his desk, he felt a vague sense of unreality.

“All right, class dismissed.” Rarely speaking at length, the stern and taciturn Miao Jianghong had surprisingly said quite a bit today. Yet only the last sentence caught Zhang Ye’s ear, sounding particularly pleasant. He rose swiftly and dashed out of the classroom, leaving before the others and even before Miao Jianghong, like a bolt of lightning.

Miao Jianghong’s face darkened with anger, noting Zhang Ye’s recklessness and pondering when to call him to account.

Zhang Ye left so quickly, so abruptly, that he didn’t see Zhao Haidong’s troubled face behind him—frustrated, a little angry, and helpless. Zhao clenched his fists, only to drop them again helplessly.

“I’ll ask him later,” Zhao muttered to himself, trusting Zhang Ye despite the vivid rumors swirling among classmates. He had wanted to catch him after class but hadn’t expected Zhang Ye to disappear faster than a rabbit.

He hadn’t seen the closeness between Zhang Ye and Huang Meixia, but the stories circulating among their peers tightened his chest with jealousy and anger. At that moment, Zhang Ye’s face appeared especially detestable to him.