Chapter Twenty-One: An Invitation

After class at noon.

Rousseau, his head spinning and muddled, staggered out of the classroom like a wounded soldier escaping the battlefield. It was just too hard—truly too hard. Even being abandoned by his mother as a child, struggling to bring up little Fish Rousseau in the face of life’s hardships, had never left him feeling as hopeless and cornered as that previous lesson had. He desperately needed to breathe some fresh air, to chase away the riot of numbers and symbols rampaging through his mind.

Most of the athletes around Rousseau seemed just as spent, like soldiers with no bullets left to fire, helpless and defeated. Juno was among them, though she recovered a bit more quickly—her mind was lighter, after all.

Cutting through the crowd, Juno caught hold of Rousseau and asked, “Want to meet up tonight?”

Meet up?

For what?

At these words, the curiosity among the athletes around them flared up instantly, gossip kindling in their hearts.

“Let’s talk somewhere else,” Rousseau said, pulling Juno along as they whispered to each other on their way to the cafeteria.

Witnessing this, Zheng Ni hurried to catch up, grabbing Tian Shiwei by the arm as she left.

“Why are you dragging me?” Tian Shiwei, in the midst of a yawn, nearly bit his tongue at her sudden grip.

“In case Rousseau can’t control himself around Juno, you’ll be there to hold him back,” Zheng Ni said.

“Old Lu’s not that kind of guy,” Tian Shiwei replied with a chuckle. “If it were me, maybe.”

“Oh, please, you?” Zheng Ni looked him up and down.

“I can be vicious!” Tian Shiwei insisted.

“You’re just a little puppy,” Zheng Ni retorted.

“What are you saying!”

Truthfully, Zheng Ni was just trying to avoid awkwardness.

She wasn’t entirely comfortable letting Juno and Rousseau sit together alone. Well, half concern, half curiosity—she really couldn’t see the two of them as having any kind of intimate relationship, yet now it seemed they shared a certain unspoken understanding. As Juno’s close friend, this left her feeling a little jealous.

If she went over alone, her intentions would be far too obvious, so she brought Tian Shiwei along—after all, he was used to playing the decoy.

And so, the four of them ended up sitting together in the cafeteria that afternoon, a habit that would carry on for a long time to come.

They ate and chatted, each with their own eating style. Rousseau treated his food with seriousness—nothing was ever left on his plate. Juno ate with delight, savoring every bite. Tian Shiwei was careless, his plate always piled with leftovers. As for Zheng Ni, she paid the least attention to her food, too busy observing everyone else’s expressions.

After a few words, the group seemed to identify the cause of that day’s sudden academic ordeal.

“So you’re saying, Old Zhu and Old Lu, that it was you two passing notes in class that got us all punished by the coach, and now anyone who fails culture class will be left off the Provincial Games roster?” Tian Shiwei bit fiercely into his salted shrimp, as if it were Juno or Rousseau’s head.

“Well, if you put it that way, it’s you sleeping in class that made us have to take the test in the first place,” Zheng Ni shot back, sharp-tongued as ever.

Juno nodded vigorously.

“It wasn’t a sudden decision—they must have planned this for a while,” Rousseau said. “The coach’s told me many times to take culture class seriously.”

“If all of us fail, I don’t believe he’d dare to leave the Provincial Games empty, not send a single athlete!” Tian Shiwei declared, pounding the table with the naive or perhaps foolish determination that was his hallmark.

“Behind you...” Rousseau gestured.

“Coach, I’m sorry!” Tian Shiwei spun around and bowed his head in apology.

But there was no coach—only a weightlifter passing by, balancing a tray piled high as a mountain.

“...Careful not to hit your head,” Rousseau continued.

Tian Shiwei froze for a moment, then broke into a sheepish, carefree grin, like a husky who’d just finished tearing apart the furniture, and looked at the others.

Laughter erupted. Zheng Ni slapped the table, laughing uproariously. Juno almost choked on her food, barely managing to swallow. Rousseau pressed his lips together, struggling not to laugh, his face contorted.

For a moment, the air was filled with a buoyant, infectious joy.

Though Tian Shiwei was the butt of the joke, he didn’t much mind. Poking at his food with his chopsticks, he muttered things like ‘What’s so funny,’ ‘I’m just looking out for you,’ and ‘No gratitude at all.’

His mood never stayed down for long—less than a minute, perhaps—before he was back to form, analyzing how, as long as they stood together, they could force the coaches to relent.

Watching him, Rousseau suddenly thought Tian Shiwei must have had a happy, complete childhood, with not a crack left in his heart by the past. No matter the hardship, he always believed there was a solution.

But Rousseau guessed the coaches meant business this time. It wasn’t just him—none of the athletes took class seriously. That lazy atmosphere had probably lasted a long time. Rousseau had only been on the team a month—he’d just happened to get caught in the crossfire.

“Ten o’clock tonight. See you at the usual place.”

After lunch, Juno and Rousseau set the time.

A week had passed since their last competition. In that week, Juno had been consciously training a particular group of abdominal muscles, following Rousseau’s advice. A week wasn’t long, but she could feel herself improving—places she’d struggled with before, she could now sense and use the strength there. The final breakthrough was just within reach, so she asked Rousseau to check her form again.

As for Rousseau, his week had been packed—practicing the 4x100 relay, the 100 meters, and high jump, and now, on top of it all, culture class. Even so, he felt his high jump technique had grown more refined.

He was determined to get the better of Juno tonight...

Watching Juno’s departing figure, Rousseau’s eyes burned with the fire of battle.

“Another meeting...” Tian Shiwei grumbled, remembering his promise to Zheng Ni to accompany her again tonight. “This time I’m bringing my NDS. Last time was unbearably boring...”

“Alright, enough staring,” Tian Shiwei said, noticing Rousseau’s expression. “If you look any harder, your eyes will bore a hole. Your thoughts about Old Zhu—honestly, you’ll be struck by lightning for them.”

That line came from Rousseau’s previous oath—that if he ever tried to take advantage of Juno, he’d be struck by lightning. To Tian Shiwei, it seemed Rousseau played the loyal friend, but when it came to winning a girl over, he’d risk everything.

“You don’t understand,” Rousseau said, shaking his head at Tian Shiwei.

“What don’t I understand? Come on, we’re both guys. Juno’s pretty, has a great personality, and she’s the sole heir to the Hongxing Group. The company’s in real estate, assets in the billions. If you win her over, you’d be handed Uncle Zhu’s entire fortune. But honestly, is it really that easy?”

Billions... It was the first time Rousseau learned of Juno’s background—or rather, her family’s fortune. Was she really that wealthy?