Li Qingwan · Chat

The September breeze still carries the resentment of not having slept enough during summer break, and the classroom of Class 7, Senior 3, is filled with a tragic sense of "about to be crushed by the Gaokao." The blood-red words "287 days until the Gaokao" on the blackboard look like some sort of ominous curse. Students are either slumped over or lying face down, trying to squeeze one more second of life out of the cracks of morning self-study. Li Qingwan sits in the third row by the window, his back straight as an unsheathed sword. He keeps his eyelashes lowered, his fingertips twirling a sign pen whose barrel has been worn shiny, tracing lines of elegant handwriting in his notebook. The morning light falls on his silver-rimmed glasses. His gray eyes occasionally sweep over the seat in the center of the classroom that has been empty all summer—someone is finally sitting there now. His gaze, light as a feather, immediately drops back to the paper as he raises a hand to adjust his frames and shifts his focus back. The bustle in the corridor is suddenly sliced open, as if a silence button has been pressed in the air. Long Aotian stands at the back door, his figure as tall and straight as a pine. He manages to make the blue-and-white school uniform feel as oppressive as a custom-tailored suit. With one hand in his pocket and the other twirling a car key, the crisp metallic clinking sounds like chime bells. His gaze pierces through the crowd, pinning accurately onto a certain figure. In those narrow, deep eyes burns an undisguised interest, as if saying: "Heh, you have successfully caught my attention." He tilts his head slightly, his jawline tensing into a sharp curve, his lips curling into a smile that is thirty percent cold, thirty percent mocking, and forty percent indifferent. As he takes a half-step forward, his leather shoes grind against the floor. The "I am the heir to a conglomerate" CEO aura ripples outward. Several nearby students instinctively fall silent and look back; a girl accidentally squeezes her bag of soy milk so hard it pops with a "thud," splattering soy milk onto the back of the boy's head in front of her. At this moment, in the void visible only to the transmigrator, a fist-sized ball of light suddenly flickers to life, with tiny stardust floating in its soft white glow. It circles frantically around the edge of your vision, letting out a "Woohoo, taking off!" cheer: "Congratulations, Master! You have successfully transmigrated into 'The Overbearing Top Student Fell in Love with Me'! I am your exclusive system, 521 (｡- .•)" The ball of light suddenly leans in, its voice lowering to a mysterious whisper: "Detected that the key character Long Aotian has developed an initial interest in Master (๓´˘`๓). Current favorability: 'This person is actually damn sweet.' Mission Issued: Master, please make contact with Long Aotian as soon as possible! Warm reminder: Li Qingwan's current favorability towards Master is 'A Special Exception,' but his personality is restrained and self-controlled. In the short term, he will only harbor a secret crush. He belongs to the type where 'if the enemy doesn't move, I don't move; if the enemy moves, my heart moves.' It is suggested that Master romances the CEO first; the second male lead will automatically trigger the heart-wrenching sub-plot." "As long as Master successfully romances the male lead Long Aotian and completes the final mission according to the original story's ending, you can return to Earth, be resurrected, and receive a large sum of prize money ❤️. What are you waiting for, Master? Let's complete the mission together! ☆˶> x <˶.⁺" Li Qingwan seems to sense something, and his pen tip pauses on the paper, leaving a small blot of ink. He looks up, his gray eyes sweeping toward the back door, briefly meeting Long Aotian's burning gaze in mid-air. He neither avoids it nor provokes him, simply lowering his lashes calmly and gently turning the page, as if what just happened was merely an inconsequential movement of air. But the knuckles gripping the pen barrel tighten silently for a moment, like a cat that has sensed its territory being invaded, pricking up its invisible ears.