Chapter 150
Words : 1043
Updated : Oct 7th, 2025
Ji Nian rubbed her arms, trying to calm herself down.
Just then, a classmate from Class 5, who had gone to the restroom, came back and suddenly stopped in their tracks upon seeing Ji Nian.
"Yang Xinyu! Your goddess is here!!!"
The kid darted into the classroom like a fish and shouted.
Ji Nian: "......"
Suddenly, she felt like turning around and leaving.
Before she could even take a step, a kid popped out of the classroom, looked around, and upon spotting Ji Nian, excitedly called out, "Goddess!!!"
Ji Nian was so embarrassed by the title that she felt like digging her toes into the ground.
She immediately said, "Don’t, don’t call me that."
Yang Xinyu clenched his fists and blinked, "Then what should I call you?"
"Just call me by my name."
Since Ji Nian herself had spoken, Yang Xinyu didn’t dare disobey and immediately nodded in agreement.
"Okay, boss!"
Ji Nian: "......"
Kid, just go home. Just go home.
Sensing that Ji Nian wasn’t as cold and distant as she had seemed from afar, he shamelessly moved closer, "Boss, are you here to see me?"
"Why are you standing outside? Come in and chat."
We’ve got snacks and tea, everything.
Ji Nian declined.
"I just came to say, even though I don’t know why you’ve been giving me snacks, thank you. But please don’t send any more."
Of course, she knew why Yang Xinyu was doing it, though she herself was puzzled. But by some twist of fate, he hadn’t thanked the wrong person.
Hearing Ji Nian’s words, Yang Xinyu’s disappointment was palpable. The kids behind him, who had also been giving her snacks, wore the same expression.
They all looked at Ji Nian with pitiful eyes.
As if not being allowed to send snacks was some kind of punishment.
Ji Nian: "......"
"Once every two weeks... that might be okay."
Hearing that they could still send snacks, the kids all looked up, their eyes sparkling, and in unison, they said, "Thank you, boss!!!"
The Director, who was standing around the corner accompanying the Principal on an inspection, nearly stumbled.
Boss!?
Who! Who was bringing this gangster nonsense into his civilized, harmonious school!!!
The Director felt his vision darken.
The Principal glanced at him leisurely and said, "Kids these days really know a lot, huh."
The Director forced a laugh, "Hahaha, they’re probably just playing some role-playing game. Kids, you know."
"I’ll go check on them."
He walked away from the Principal, smiling, but as soon as he turned his back, his expression turned stern.
"What’s going on? Which student just called someone 'boss,' and who was being called 'boss'!?"
As soon as he appeared, the kids at the entrance of Class 5 scattered like birds, running off in all directions.
But her attention wasn’t on that. It was on the books.
At first, Ji Nian thought she might be mistaken, but after picking one up, she realized she wasn’t.
"Hey, are these book covers made from old calendars?"
"I almost didn’t recognize it as a Chinese textbook."
A relic of the past, Ji Nian remembered how excited she used to be every semester when she got new textbooks. She and her friends would go to the stationery store to buy colorful book covers.
Some had their favorite celebrities on them, others had cartoon designs—there were all kinds. After using them for a semester, when you peeled off the cover, the book would still look brand new.
But nowadays, kids use self-adhesive book films, which are a hassle to apply. The old-style book covers have long been phased out.
Standing up and handing the books back, Ji Nian looked up.
Only then did she realize it was the new student.
Since he was often called on in class, Ji Nian had already memorized his name.
He Xiang.
Hearing Ji Nian speak to him, the boy, who had been looking down, slowly raised his eyes.
"...Yeah."
Thinking Ji Nian might also find him old-fashioned, he took the books and unconsciously tightened his grip.
He Xiang’s book covers were made by his grandmother, who had cut up old calendar paper to wrap them.
The old lady cherished books and had passed this habit on to He Xiang.
At his old school, some students did the same.
But the students here seemed different. On his first day, when He Xiang took out the textbooks his grandmother had stayed up all night to wrap, he was mocked.
‘So old-fashioned,’ ‘What’s with the covers?’ ‘Why is his stuff different?’ ‘Weird.’
All sorts of comments. Maybe some of the kids didn’t mean any harm, but to He Xiang, who was already sensitive from being in a completely new environment, they stung.
"They’re really well done. You’re so skilled."
Hearing Ji Nian’s compliment, He Xiang was stunned and looked at her, "...My grandmother made them."
"Then your grandmother must be very skilled. She must really love you."
He Xiang’s parents had died in a construction site accident when he was young. His family hadn’t received any compensation, and his grandmother had raised him by collecting scrap and farming.
Back in their hometown, most kids were in similar situations, some even worse off.
So He Xiang never thought of himself as pitiful.
But after coming to this bustling, dazzling city, where his classmates talked about what they ate, where they played, or which countries they’d visited—things he couldn’t understand—he realized something.
Their parents were diplomats, soldiers, lawyers, business owners, professors—all the respectable professions you’d only see in TV dramas.
For the first time, little He Xiang understood.
In some people’s worlds, they never had to worry about how to survive. They only needed to think about how to make themselves happier.
Even in such a starkly different environment, He Xiang never felt ashamed of his grandmother.
Instead, he admired her even more.
But others... didn’t seem to feel the same way.
Hearing Ji Nian’s words, He Xiang felt a sudden lump in his throat.
He blinked away the moisture in his eyes and gave Ji Nian his first genuine smile since arriving here.
"Thank you."
Ji Nian probably had no idea that a single, casual remark she made would be remembered by someone for a lifetime.
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