Actually, She's Just an Idiot - Chapter 5

A mouthful of water felt stuck in her throat, making Wen Yue feel terribly uncomfortable. After coughing several times in a row, she rubbed her eyes, which were brimming with involuntary tears, and watched the video again. Those short few seconds were enough to leave one wanting more.

Wen Yue asked: [Where are you right now?]

The other person replied instantly: [Watching the orientation gala. Ahhhhh, Lan Xi is absolutely stunning!]

Sun Hui: [I just passed by the backstage and saw their model troupe applying makeup. I feel like the whole path has started to smell fragrant (drooling.jpg)]

What a tantalizing pair of sentences.

After returning to her dormitory and showering, Wen Yue watched the video over and over again. She twirled her pen, listlessly flipping through books and doing problems. The text and numbers in the thick textbook seemed to blur together, making her dizzy. Her mind was occupied with other things, so her efficiency was ridiculously low.

After dawdling to finish the last digit, she took a photo to submit her homework and felt inexplicably empty. Her fingertips hovered back and forth over the mouse, and Wen Yue rested her chin in her hand, but she had lost the mood to watch a movie. Her mind was entirely filled with the image of the person from earlier.

In the video, Lan Xi wore a long-sleeved, black, form-fitting dress. Her thick, dark hair was coiled behind her head with a long hairpin, and jade-beaded tassels swayed gently with her movements. She kept her eyes lowered, her expression faint as she leaned casually against the vanity. It was a completely different feeling from usual; this senior was truly captivating.

Wen Yue suddenly felt a bit of regret for rejecting Wang Qianqian’s invitation. But there is no medicine for regret in life; what is missed is missed. She stopped dwelling on it and refocused her attention on the computer screen. It would be more practical to think about what to watch next.

After searching back and forth for a long time, Wen Yue chose an animated film. The content was primarily healing and heartwarming, which was perfect for killing time. The characters were all very cute, occasionally making one burst into laughter.

Wen Yue’s chat app remained open on the computer, occasionally sending message notification sounds. She ignored them for a tone or two, but at some point, the computer started chiming incessantly, as if it had caught a virus. She had no choice but to pause her movie and exit to see who was sending her such a barrage of messages.

Wang Qianqian: [Ah Yue, it’s such a pity you didn’t come tonight!]

Then, a long string of videos followed. Wen Yue clicked on them and saw a scene of a boy in a white shirt holding a microphone and singing. The voice was unclear in the cell phone recording, and the person couldn’t be seen clearly, only that it was a slim male. After patiently watching the video, Wang Qianqian’s last message asked for her thoughts on the performance. Wen Yue was suddenly stumped. She couldn’t tell good from bad at all, so she could only muddle through by sending an emoji to show her respect.

Fortunately, the person on the other end of the phone was already obsessed with something else and had no time to pay attention to anything else; after Wen Yue replied, she stopped bothering her.

Just as she let out a sigh of relief and prepared to continue watching the movie, an unexpected message notification popped up from a chat app.

“Ding-ding—”

Lan Xi: [Hello, this is a temporary raffle for the model troupe. May I ask if you are free?]

It’s no exaggeration to say that when Wen Yue first saw this message, she thought she was dreaming. Her heart skipped a beat, and it felt like fireworks were exploding in her brain, making her feel dizzy and spinning. Wen Yue tremblingly opened the app, only to find it wasn’t a hallucination.

As for how this senior had contacted her, it started back when they first began their optional Taekwondo course. As the class monitor temporarily appointed by the PE teacher, she not only had to manage attendance, but also had to create a group chat at the beginning. The main purpose was to make it convenient for students to send her their absence slips if they needed to take leave. Because there were no teachers in the group and no strict rules, most people didn’t include their major or real name, resulting in a list full of all sorts of colorful screen names.

Wen Yue opened the group member list and scrolled through it, discovering that apart from herself, only Lan Xi had listed her real name. She had listed hers in case someone needed to find her. As for this senior, why had she done it? A beauty surely wouldn’t need to expand her friend list.

Wen Yue found her own “dad joke” quite funny. After chuckling sillily to herself, she opened the chat box with Lan Xi. She stared at that message for a long time, biting her lip in conflict, and after much deliberation, she replied.

Wen Yue: [Senior, did you send the message to the wrong person?]

She didn’t expect the other person to reply in seconds.

Lan Xi: [The event tonight.]

Lan Xi: [Our department is holding a temporary raffle, and we are looking for a lucky audience member from the list.]

Lan Xi: [There are small gifts, would you like to come over and play?]

“A raffle?” Wen Yue was astonished. She had grown up in such a way that she could even buy up all the “buy one get one free” drinks in the store, even when the legendary odds were eight out of ten. Never mind the probability of being picked from a list of beauties, let alone among hundreds or thousands of people. Furthermore, Wen Yue wasn’t even on Lan Xi’s friend list.

During the time her brain was spinning, perhaps the other party had grown impatient, as she sent another message.

Lan Xi: [It seems Little Teacher Wen has plans tonight. Did a stranger like me disturb you?]

Wen Yue was scared to death seeing this message. How could she dare? So she hurriedly replied: [No, no, I was just changing my clothes.]

As a result, after she sent this message, the other party went quiet. Wen Yue hugged her knees, curling herself up in her chair, her eyes fixed unblinkingly on their chat box.

Hmm? Could it be that she was just joking? She specifically moved her eyes to confirm the date. Today wasn’t April Fool’s Day, either.

Because of this, Wen Yue had no interest in watching a movie. She sat in a daze for a minute when the phone’s chat box suddenly tremblingly popped up a picture and a message.

Lan Xi: [Then, add me on WeChat.]

Wen Yue was the type of person who would never go out after taking a shower. But now, she was standing at the entrance of the school auditorium. The orientation gala was nearing its end, and the outside was empty. Wen Yue stood obediently on the spot, motionless, waiting for the person who said on WeChat that she would come to pick her up.

When Lan Xi looked down from the stairs, what she saw was a small, straight pine tree. She walked unhurriedly, the sound of her high heels echoing in the air, and the figure in the distance became clearer. The girl was wearing an oversized T-shirt, tall and slender, her collarbones supporting the neckline, her skin as fair as thin paper. It was obvious that her hair, just washed, hadn’t dried yet; the soft strands curled up at the edges in the wind.

The sound of heels moving from far to near reached her ears, and Wen Yue shifted her gaze toward her. Lan Xi raised an eyebrow, lifted a smile, and slowly stood still beside the girl.

She asked: “How long have you been waiting?”

“Five minutes.”

Upon hearing this, Lan Xi seemed lost in thought. But soon, she curled the corners of her lips again, leaned down, and gently placed a gift box from her palm into the girl’s hand.

“The lighting upstairs isn’t good,” she said, her expression encouraging. “Why not try it here?”

Wen Yue was dumbfounded. She stared at this exquisitely packaged box, which looked valuable at first glance, tilted her head in confusion, and felt that something wasn’t quite right. Wasn’t it a raffle? Did the senior do it on her behalf? Did this year’s sponsor have dirt on the school? Otherwise, how could they be so wealthy to give out such gifts?

While she was in a daze, Lan Xi naturally took Wen Yue’s wrist and pulled her to sit on a bench nearby. The other person’s fingers were cool, like a room with the air conditioning set to 16 degrees. Although it was only September, the sea breeze at night still gave one a feeling of goosebumps.

She had been too shy earlier to really look. Now, in their private moment, Lan Xi was focusing on taking the jewelry out of the gift box and putting it on her wrist, and Wen Yue finally had the chance to admire the beauty properly. The video hadn’t captured even one-tenth of her beauty; her features were too exquisite, and they actually suffered on camera. It was as if the screen itself felt inferior, secretly suppressing the stunning brilliance.

The other girl’s fingertips were also cool, and her movements were very light, brushing against Wen Yue’s skin, causing her earlobes to heat up. It was a string of crystal-blue crystals that were clearly visible even in the dark, with silver beads embedded in the chain, a style very suitable for a young girl. Even though it was a raffle prize, it surprisingly suited her well.

Wen Yue raised her wrist and shook it, her eyes curving as she looked at Lan Xi: “The senior has such good luck, this little gift is beautiful.”

The girl smiled without a word, tapped her fingertip on the crystal, and rested her elbow on the back of the bench, exposing a patch of pale wrist. Wen Yue’s gaze was instantly drawn to it. A bracelet similar in style to the one on her hand, but in a different color, lay quietly on the other girl’s wrist.

Wen Yue raised her own to the same level as the other girl’s, and the color of the crystals flickered with the interplay of light and shadow. Lan Xi looked into Wen Yue’s eyes: “It’s so beautiful, it would be a shame to only wear it once.”

She nodded in partial understanding, agreeing: “It should be worn often.”

The drifting clouds obscured the moon, and the auditorium suddenly erupted in applause. Lan Xi raised her eyes to glance at the time on the LED screen, and her palm unconsciously brushed against the girl’s little finger beside her. Estimating the flow of the program, she turned her head, intending to speak to the girl sitting beside her, when a warmth from skin suddenly pressed against the back of her hand.

Lan Xi was momentarily speechless, her movements rigid, an unknown current running through her heart. They had been sitting and chatting for quite a while, yet she hadn’t expected the girl’s hands to be so icy. Wen Yue tried the other girl’s body temperature and asked with concern: “Are you wearing too little? Your hands are so cold.”

“The air conditioning in the makeup room was set low,” Lan Xi calmly pushed down her thoughts, her expression becoming more natural, even daring to tease: “Is Little Teacher Wen worried about me?”

Upon hearing this, Wen Yue’s pupils contracted, and the panic in her expression was clear. She pretended to unintentionally retract her hand and stood up. She pursed her lips and let out a breath: “Is… is the senior’s performance urgent?”

Lan Xi slowly sat up straight and asked: “What’s wrong?”

“That… wait five minutes for me,” Wen Yue said as she bounced a few steps back, “I’ll be back soon.”

Watching the girl’s hurried figure leaving, Lan Xi’s shoulders relaxed. Her long eyelashes trembled, and she slowly pressed the back of her hand against her cheek, as if she could still feel that pulse of warmth.