“It hurts!”
Xu Xingye ached all over, as though someone had taken his bones apart and shoved them back in at random.
His eyes flew open. Instinctively, he braced a hand against the corner of the desk, his breathing quick and shallow.
He looked up at a blackboard covered in formulas.
The ceiling fan turned lazily overhead. Chalk dust lay beside the lectern, and through the window came the sound of a basketball striking the ground.
Xu Xingye stared for several seconds before looking down at himself.
He wore a clean school uniform. His wrists were slender, and a second-year high-school math workbook lay open on his desk.
His name was written in the upper right corner. The handwriting was much neater than it had been after he started working.
This was Class Three, Year Two, at Linlan No. 1 High School.
How had he ended up here?
Xu Xingye touched his chest. There was no wound. His uniform shirt was spotless, without a trace of blood.
Yet the pain of being struck and thrown by that truck still lingered in his body. It felt so real that his fingertips tingled.
He remembered it perfectly. He had worked late that night; it was nearly midnight when he left the office.
Then, as he passed an intersection, an out-of-control truck had barreled toward him.
Its headlights blazed into his face. He had not even had time to dodge before the impact sent him flying.
And when he opened his eyes again, he was eight years in the past.
Xu Xingye stared at the date on his workbook. His lips moved for a long time, but not a word came out.
Rebirth?
Something that only happened in novels had actually happened to him.
There were few people in the classroom. The lunch break had just ended, and most of his classmates were still catching up on sleep at their desks.
Xu Xingye took off his silver-rimmed glasses and pressed hard between his brows, trying to calm down.
Whatever had happened, at least he was alive.
Why he had come back was something he could figure out later.
Just then, someone shoved open the classroom's rear door.
It struck the wall with a dull bang. Several sleeping students raised their heads, took one look, and promptly ducked back down.
Lu Siting walked in.
He was tall, his uniform jacket draped loosely over his shoulders and a black T-shirt underneath.
His face was expressionless. Only the obsidian stud in his left ear flashed in the sunlight.
Still the same face that begged to be punched.
The moment Xu Xingye recognized him, his brows drew together.
He and Lu Siting had never gotten along in high school.
The guy came looking for trouble every few days, either snatching his workbook or deliberately blocking the aisle so he could not get past.
Worst of all, Lu Siting was always turning up beside Lin Yubing.
Back then, Xu Xingye had been convinced he was deliberately competing with him for her.
Their already poor relationship had turned into outright enmity because of it.
With one hand in his pocket, Lu Siting headed straight for his seat after coming in through the back door.
As he passed Xu Xingye, a loud voice suddenly exploded inside Xu Xingye's head.
[Ahhh, my wife smells so nice today. He looks so soft. I want to kiss him.]
The glasses in Xu Xingye's hand clattered onto the desk.
He jerked his head up and stared at Lu Siting in horror.
But Lu Siting did not even break stride. His face was cold enough to clear half a corridor, and he did not so much as glance his way.
Who had just said that?
Xu Xingye quickly scanned the room. The few people around him were either asleep or working on exercises. No one was looking over.
Besides, that voice had sounded directly inside his head, loud enough to make his temples throb.
Lu Siting reached his seat, pulled out the chair, and sat down.
Once there was more distance between them, the unbearably noisy voice abruptly vanished.
The classroom fell quiet again.
Xu Xingye put his glasses back on, adjusted them, and stared at Lu Siting for several seconds. He was beginning to wonder whether being hit by a truck had left something wrong with his brain when he came back.
It could not be Lu Siting.
The guy usually looked at him like an enemy. How could he possibly be calling him “wife” inside his head?
Xu Xingye said nothing. After a moment's thought, he looked down at the space between their desks.
Lu Siting sat diagonally behind him, a little over a meter away.
He gripped the edge of his chair and shifted backward a little.
The chair legs scraped softly against the floor.
The moment the gap narrowed, the voice that had disappeared came right back.
[Why's he moving closer?]
[Does he want to be near me?]
[Stay calm, Lu Siting. Don't smile. Smiling won't look cool.]
Xu Xingye froze, then slowly turned his head.
Lu Siting was leaning back in his chair with his arms folded, impatience written all over his face.
Seeing Xu Xingye look at him, he even tipped up his chin, as though preparing to start something.
Xu Xingye: ...
What could that face possibly have to do with the things he had just heard?
Refusing to believe it, he dragged his chair forward again.
Sure enough, the instant the distance exceeded one meter, the voice disappeared.
Xu Xingye paused for two seconds, then shifted backward once more.
[He's coming closer again.]
[Is he trying to give me a hint?]
[Should I put my hand at the edge of the desk? What if he wants to hold it secretly?]
Xu Xingye immediately dragged his chair back, so fast he nearly hit the desk in front of him.
Lu Siting's icy composure slipped. His brows creased slightly, and his fingers unconsciously brushed the stud in his left ear.
[Why'd he run away again?]
[Do I not look handsome enough sitting like this?]
[Maybe I should turn so he can see my left side. Zhao Fei says that's my better side.]
Xu Xingye closed his eyes. Goose bumps had spread across his back.
He was not imagining it.
Whenever Lu Siting came within a meter of him, every word hidden in that head made its way into his ears.
And the things he was hearing went well beyond a simple collapse of someone's public image.
The guy looked impossibly cold on the outside, while inside he was going from “wife” to holding hands, and from holding hands to stealing a kiss.
Let him stay close for another few minutes, and who knew what else might come out?
Xu Xingye adjusted his glasses and silently dragged his chair another half meter forward. He wanted to move himself, desk and all, right up beside the lectern.
He was straight. Completely, unequivocally straight.
He had been in his previous life, and he had no plans to change that in this one.
Having a guy chase him around in his own head calling him “wife” was far more than he could handle.
Compared with this, even the memory of being hit by a truck seemed less frightening.
Naturally, Lu Siting chose that moment to stand up.
Xu Xingye's back went rigid as he watched him approach, step by step.
That face was still frighteningly cold, but the voice in his head was becoming clearer and clearer.
[My wife keeps looking at me.]
[How is that little mole by his eye so pretty?]
[I want to touch it.]
[No. He'll think I'm a creep.]
So you do realize that?
Xu Xingye tightened his grip on his pen. His chair had nowhere left to go. All he could do was watch Lu Siting stop beside his desk.
They stared at each other for several seconds.
Lu Siting planted one hand on the corner of the desk and pulled down the corners of his mouth, trying hard to recreate his usual threatening expression.
What Xu Xingye heard, however, was something else entirely.
[He's even better-looking up close.]
[His lashes are so long.]
[If he looks at me for another two seconds, I might really lose it.]
Goose bumps sprang up along Xu Xingye's arms. He leaned away instinctively, with only one thought left in his head.
Stay away from this lunatic.
Lu Siting looked confused by his reaction, but his voice remained as arrogant and aggressive as ever. “What the hell do you keep staring at me for? You asking for a beating?”