Chapter 10: The Mary Sue of the Campus, Part 8

“If you’re not hungry, shall we take a walk?” Le Yixian glanced around at the golden autumn scenery, feeling it was perfect for a date. She added a hint, “I want you to keep me company.”

Ke Yuandao agreed without hesitation.

His senior was so upset she needed someone to accompany her—how sad must she be! He felt a surge of anger for her sake, but also a flicker of joy: he was the one she wanted by her side.

Le Yixian sensed something odd in his expression, but didn’t dwell on it.

They strolled around the campus for more than half a circuit; eventually, Le Yixian realized, to her dismay, that she couldn’t walk any further.

It was no wonder—since entering this body, she’d always had a private car to shuttle her about, and never walked more than a kilometer at a time. Naturally, her physical endurance was woefully lacking.

“Are you tired, Senior?” Ke Yuandao, who’d been watching her closely, caught her discomfort.

“My feet hurt a bit,” Le Yixian admitted without bravado, especially in front of her beloved. Her heels were aching terribly.

“Let me help you to that bench over there,” Ke Yuandao said, growing anxious at her complaint. He reached out to support her, but as his hand neared, he froze.

He was about to help his senior—so nerve-wracking! Should he take her hand? Or her elbow? Would holding her hand seem too forward?

Le Yixian spotted a long bench nearby for students to rest, nodded, and hopped over, not noticing his hesitation or inner turmoil.

Ke Yuandao, having finally worked up the courage to reach out, left his hand suspended in the air for a moment, then lifted his left hand and smacked the back of his right hand with a loud slap. “Hesitating again! You made me miss the chance to help Senior!” With a stony expression and a look of disappointment at his own hand, he gloomily followed after Le Yixian.

Seated on the bench, Le Yixian slipped off her shoes and let out a sigh of relief. Looking up at Ke Yuandao’s impassive face beside her, she patted the space next to her. “Sit.”

“Alright!” Ke Yuandao, fearful of missing another opportunity, plopped down immediately.

The faint scent of the girl’s perfume wafted in the air, making Ke Yuandao afraid to move a muscle.

Le Yixian glanced at her own heel and found the skin had been rubbed raw by her shoe.

This body was delicate, pampered and soft-skinned; her whole heel was flushed red, and she drew in a sharp breath.

Ke Yuandao knelt down, carefully examining her foot. He looked up and said softly, “Let me take a look.”

Le Yixian nodded.

With gentle hands, Ke Yuandao lifted her foot and inspected it closely. Then he took a tube of ointment from his pocket. “This is a special ointment made by my family. If you apply a little, it’ll feel much better.”

Le Yixian nodded, granting him permission to apply it.

Ke Yuandao held her foot in one hand and squeezed out the ointment with the other, spreading it gently, his face tender and focused, as if treating the most precious treasure in the world.

Le Yixian, sitting on the bench, watched the whorl of hair on his head with a twinge of anxiety: she’d walked so far, her feet were sweaty—did she have athlete’s foot? Was it smelly?

“All done. Senior, be careful with your shoes these next few days.” Ke Yuandao reluctantly released her foot and cast a stern glance at her little leather shoes.

“Alright, I’ll be careful.” Le Yixian nodded, then looked curiously at the ointment in his hand. “Is your family in the medical business?”

“Yes,” Ke Yuandao nodded, “My family runs a hospital.”

“So, do you want to be a doctor one day?”

“I do. I want to fulfill a dream,” Ke Yuandao replied, a hint of nostalgia in his eyes.

“Being a doctor sounds good,” Le Yixian said, then suddenly tensed, her voice stiff as she asked, “Is everyone in your family a doctor?”

“Yes, everyone in my family is a doctor,” Ke Yuandao said eagerly, happy to share with his beloved. “My dad, mom, and brother—they’re all doctors!”

Brother!

Those two words struck Le Yixian like a thunderbolt on a clear day, leaving her shaken inside and out.

“Was your brother my attending physician?” she asked cautiously.

“Oh, he was, but now I hear my mom has taken over.” Ke Yuandao answered without much thought.

Mother?

Le Yixian kept a straight face.

And why did Ke Yuandao have to let that guy be his brother? Truly, another vexing matter.

—

“Two months from now, our school will celebrate its anniversary. Each class must prepare a performance. This year, our class drew the lot for a stage show. Any suggestions?” The homeroom teacher stood at the podium, addressing the sleepy students below.

“The anniversary is finally here.”

“It’ll be lively again this year, I bet.”

“Anniversary means no classes!”

No sooner had the teacher finished speaking than the students erupted in cheers.

“What a hassle,” An Xiansi muttered, his brow deeply furrowed.

“For a stage show, we should do a prince and princess story—such a beautiful tale of love,” said Beitang Chamo, the green-haired boy, full of anticipation.

“You’re grown up and still dreaming about princes and princesses?” An Xiansi scoffed at such stories.

Beitang Chamo, embarrassed by the comment, retorted, “Prince and princess stories are wonderful.”

He knew it was a bit childish to like fairy tales at his age, but he couldn’t help himself.

After the teacher’s announcement, the matter of which performance to choose was handed over to the class arts committee.

The arts committee member, a graceful and gentle-looking girl, walked over to An Xiansi—after all, he was the class leader and head of the famous H4 group, and the school belonged to his family. Naturally, his opinion came first.

“An, what do you think our class should perform?” she asked, her voice soft and pleasant as a spring breeze.

“Prince and princess story,” An Xiansi replied without hesitation.

The arts committee: “…”

An Xiansi: “…”

Beitang Chamo: “…”

Le Yixian and Guo Yiyi, who had overheard them from the start: “…”

“What, never seen a boy who likes prince and princess stories?” An Xiansi, realizing what he’d said, asked irritably.

“There are plenty of prince and princess stories. An, which one do you want to do?” The arts committee member asked, inwardly marveling at his unexpectedly beautiful inner world.

Prince and princess, huh? She couldn’t help but sneak a glance at Le Yixian, who was resting her chin nearby, thinking to herself that Li would surely play the princess.

“Snow White,” An Xiansi blurted, naming the most famous fairy tale he could think of.

An Xiansi, head of the noble H4 group, handsome, domineering, and cool—in that moment, he also gained a new reputation: someone with a fondness for fairy tales and a pure, boyish heart.