Chapter 4: Delivering the Coat

Wen Xiao truly had not expected that a public gymnasium in a school like this would have such a "private, exclusive territory."

However, he quickly realized that the person before him was most likely one of the young F4. In his memories, there was only one person with that hair and eye color—Leng Shucheng. As a canon fodder character from the original novel, he knew the F4’s so-called "exclusive territory" all too well. After all, the families behind the F4 were the biggest "sponsors" of Slanert School; for all he knew, the entire gymnasium might have been donated by the Leng family. Furthermore, the foundations of the four great families were never just about a single generation; they were wealthy clans accumulated over decades or even centuries, and neither their financial power nor their reputation could be compared to ordinary families.

Leng Shucheng had his towel draped over his shoulder and was preparing to head toward the locker room. Despite not being very tall, he strode with his head held high, walking before others as if he were attending a royal ball. To have such an idol complex from such a young age… one could only say he was worthy of being F4.

After guessing his identity, Wen Xiao had no interest in staying. He merely glanced at his own damp clothes, feeling rather unlucky. Had he known he would run into Leng Shucheng, he certainly wouldn't have stepped through that door.

Because he had been squatting for so long, Wen Xiao’s feet were a bit numb. As he took a moment to recover, his peripheral vision caught Leng Shucheng, who was passing by, suddenly lose his footing and tumble straight toward him. His eyes widened, and before he could even react, only one thought crossed his mind: if Leng Shucheng were to crash into him and send him slamming into the ground, he might end up with a broken bone…

In that instant, time seemed to slow down. Wen Xiao felt as though he saw an equally stunned and shocked expression in Leng Shucheng’s eyes. Then, he watched helplessly as Leng Shucheng forcibly twisted his body to the side, crashing down diagonally instead. He landed right beside him, letting out a pained, muffled groan. Leng Shucheng had landed on his side, curling up like a boiled shrimp after the fall.

Wen Xiao saw it clearly: if Leng Shucheng hadn't forcibly shifted his weight at the last second, it would have been him smashed into the floor, and Leng Shucheng wouldn't have been so severely injured. Wen Xiao stared at the blonde boy’s expression—tightly gritted teeth despite the pain—and his own face looked even worse than if he had been the one who fell. Why did Leng Shucheng do that?

The boy’s damp blonde hair clung messily to his face, making him look as miserable as a fish dying of dehydration. Suddenly, fragments of images flashed through Wen Xiao’s mind—unfounded associations triggered by the face before him. In his previous life, he had been a vicious canon fodder character in the book. Recalling those experiences now, he felt they were both familiar and alien. What was familiar was that every experience was truly and firmly sealed in his memory; he remembered every sensation. What was alien was that, according to the original text, he had been jealous of the protagonist and had tripped him up repeatedly to gain attention, like a puppet unable to control its own actions.

But now that he had "woken up," why wasn't he happy? The experiences of his past life were still haunting him; perhaps rebirth was not an "escape" at all.

He remembered that after his family went bankrupt, his parents could no longer afford the high tuition fees, and he had to withdraw from Slanert School. At the time, he had only one thought: he could not be expelled so miserably. Just then, he saw a black sedan parked on the side of the road, and there was some commotion nearby. Wen Xiao turned back and saw Leng Shucheng, who was the center of attention wherever he went, walking down the steps. Every movement he made carried the poise and elegance of a classical gentleman, though his expression was always as cold as the dead of winter. He looked straight ahead, as if no one else was worth a second glance. Yet, at that time, he seemed unable to see Leng Shucheng’s cold indifference and arrogance.

He only thought that since the Leng family were members of the school board and they were classmates, as the heir of the Leng family, Leng Shucheng could keep him there with just a single word. He stepped forward, pressed his hands against the car window, and begged the other person in a tone that felt completely foreign to him, hoping Leng Shucheng would help him for the sake of their being classmates. The person sitting in the car didn't even look at him. Leng Shucheng had a book on his lap, his arm propped naturally on the window frame, his palm supporting his face nonchalantly. After a long while, he finally said his first words: "Drive."

The car drove away, and he, carried by momentum, fell to the ground, injuring his leg and getting a face full of exhaust fumes. Immediately after, he caught a cold in the rain, developed a high fever, and because he didn't seek treatment in time, a minor illness dragged on into a serious one.

Wen Xiao snapped out of these horrific memories, the low, labored breathing of the young Leng Shucheng ringing in his ears. The boy was lying on the ground, his emerald eyes wide open; despite the unbearable pain, he stubbornly refused to call for help.

Wen Xiao stood up abruptly, took a few steps back, and then turned to run outside. He ran fast—he felt as though he had never run so fast in his life, as if the past were being left far behind. Only by clearing his mind like this did he feel like he was truly alive—not a puppet, not a canon fodder, but himself. And he could make his own choices, even if that choice was to look away…

Once downstairs, he happened to run into the PE teacher. Wen Xiao immediately grabbed his sleeve and said, gasping for breath, "Leng Shucheng… fell in the swimming pool."

Leng Shucheng was injured. If there was a fracture, he definitely shouldn't be moved carelessly, or the bone might shift and heal improperly. Leaving this to the teacher and the school infirmary staff was the best course of action.

The blonde boy on the floor stared at Wen Xiao’s departing back and closed his eyes, as if that would make the injured area hurt less. It was he who had just told him to leave immediately. However, he hadn't closed his eyes for long before he heard a rush of footsteps. In the next second, the teacher rushed in with the school doctor, and the group carefully placed him on a stretcher, performing emergency stabilization.

Leng Shucheng didn't even process what was happening until he was carried into the infirmary, listening to the doctor examine him: "A mild fracture of the right arm and a sprained right foot. It’s fortunate that it was discovered in time and you didn't move around, otherwise, it would have been troublesome."

Wen Xiao leaned against the wall outside the infirmary, watching the teacher and the doctor busy themselves for Leng Shucheng, before turning and walking away. If Leng Shucheng hadn't shifted that way, it wouldn't have been just one person who got hurt. He didn't want to owe anyone favors, especially not the F4.

*

Afterward, Leng Shucheng naturally didn't come to class; word was he had been taken home to rest. Wen Xiao stared at the two empty desks in front of him, guessing one belonged to Leng Shucheng and the other to the last person he hadn't met. Furthermore, for some reason, Song Jingbai was also missing. As soon as he turned his head, he saw Huo Zhanyan, who was sitting two desks away, glaring at him.

Seeing Huo Zhanyan’s face annoyed Wen Xiao, so he simply ignored him and looked at the history teacher who had just walked in. She was a middle-aged woman wearing glasses, her long hair pulled up into a bun, wearing a classical dark green dress.

"Huo Zhanyan, during class, you should look at the blackboard, not at your classmates." Huo Zhanyan was tall and stood out even in the last row; he was called out by the teacher the moment she arrived. "Come here and answer this question."

Huo Zhanyan stood up reluctantly. Wen Xiao had assumed that someone like Huo Zhanyan, who acted like a little hooligan, would probably be unable to answer anything, but to his surprise, he answered quite competently. After he finished, he flashed a "victory" smile at Wen Xiao, looking very smug. Wen Xiao couldn't understand it; it was just standing up to answer a question, what was there to be so proud of?

However, the question asked of Huo Zhanyan was about modern history. Although it was very basic, the fact that Huo Zhanyan could answer it at all made him feel quite surprised. It was like seeing a pig climb a tree one day, and not only did it climb the tree, but it also made a "peace sign" at him from the branches. But once he associated it with the Huo family, Wen Xiao had to attribute it to family academic heritage.

He looked at the empty desk beside him and couldn't help but remember that in the previous class, Song Jingbai had reminded him not to be late for this one. He hadn't expected that he would be the one to be late. Just as he thought this, he saw Song Jingbai appear at the door: "Sorry, teacher, I'm late."

The other boy always wore a sunny smile, making it difficult for others to blame him for his tardiness. The teacher glanced at him: "Go back to your seat first, and come to my office after class."

As soon as Song Jingbai sat down, he handed him a brand-new school uniform jacket: "Your clothes—they got wet."

Wen Xiao looked down at his own uniform. Although it was wet, the area wasn't large, and it wasn't unwearable; generally, no one would even notice. "No need…" He looked away, but couldn't help thinking: Everyone had been busy with Leng Shucheng’s fall, and even the classmates were all discussing Leng Shucheng, so why did Song Jingbai notice him?

"This one is new; it hasn't been worn." Seeing that Wen Xiao still seemed to want to refuse, he added, "If you don't want to catch a cold, you should wear it."

Wen Xiao’s refusal was blocked in his throat. He really didn't want to catch a cold. This body had just recovered from a major illness and was still quite weak, with low immunity. What if he really did catch a cold? There was another reason: he didn't want to be called by his parents because of a cold or fever, or perhaps he subconsciously didn't want to trouble those strangers who were his family.

Wen Xiao blinked, realizing that no matter how he tried to recall, he couldn't remember what his family looked like. Although they were kin, in his memory, they were like strangers—restrained and distant. He had never felt any care from them. He didn't want to get sick just because he feared being ignored by his family if he fell ill, and he refused to face their indifference. Therefore, as long as he didn't get sick, it would be fine.

Song Jingbai saw Wen Xiao take the uniform, and his smile became a bit more genuine, which also vaguely confirmed his suspicions. Just now in the gymnasium, he had seen Wen Xiao and Huo Zhanyan confronting each other from a distance. He felt that Wen Xiao had wanted to throw the ball back, just as he would have fought with Huo Zhanyan. No matter why Wen Xiao disliked him, the places they both didn't want to be touched were the same: their families.

Wen Xiao turned his head away and, without a word, took off his damp jacket and put on the new one. "Why do you have a new jacket?"

Wen Xiao thought it was strange that Song Jingbai was sitting beside him, watching him change clothes without blinking—it was indescribably strange—and he was smiling more warmly than usual, so he simply found a random topic.

"I’m a boarding student, so I have spare clothes in my dorm."

Song Jingbai said it lightly, his smile never changing, but Wen Xiao was very surprised. Song Jingbai had only just started elementary school; why was he a boarder? It wasn't as if the Song family was empty of people.

"The two students in the back row? Since when has our class become so united and friendly?" the teacher said. During the lecture, Huo Zhanyan’s eyes had been practically glued to someone else instead of the blackboard, and now two more students were huddled together, changing clothes and whispering, their books not even open.