Green Tea Top Student Falls in Love with Me - Chapter 11

The sports day arrived as scheduled. No. 8 High School’s sports day wasn’t particularly strict if you had signed up for an event, you could choose to participate or not, and you were free to move around as long as you didn’t leave the campus.

Shi Wangui and her friends hadn’t signed up for anything. She believed that participating in sports day was a thankless task: if you put in the effort and placed in an event, people would ask why you didn’t come in first; if you didn’t place, they’d say you didn’t try hard enough.

These weren’t just rumors she’d heard, it was her actual experience from middle school. Back then, she’d come in second in a long-distance race while on her period, only to be criticized for not trying hard enough. Maybe there weren’t many truly bad people in the world, but Shi Wangui felt she had bad luck, she hadn’t met many good ones.

“Wanwan, let’s go play games in the pavilion,” Sun Yi said, carrying a bag of snacks as she sat down next to Wang Hu. “Look, my boyfriend bought me all these snacks.”

Exams were just around the corner, and the midterms were relatively important. Some students had stayed in the classroom to study, so playing games there obviously wasn’t a wise choice.

Shi Wangui nudged Wang Hu and asked, “Are you coming?”

Wang Hu, who had been reciting texts with his eyes closed, hesitated for a moment before giving in. “Let’s go.”

Shi Wangui took her phone out of her backpack and accidentally glanced at Wen Youren’s desk. She wasn’t in the classroom, and no one knew where she had gone. For the past few days, the two of them had kept to themselves Wen Youren didn’t report Shi Wangui for sleeping in class, and Shi Wangui didn’t deliberately make noise to disturb Wen Youren.

It should have felt fine, but something about it just didn’t sit right with her.

Once they stepped out of the classroom, it felt like entering a world of freedom. The air itself seemed fresher.

Wang Hu spread his arms wide. “Ah, freedom and happiness.”

Shi Wangui remarked casually, “Exams are coming up soon.”

Wang Hu: “…”

“Where’s your humanity?”

“It’s in my heart.”

Shi Wangui and Sun Yi laughed. The two of them weren’t worried about the exams their grades were already poor. But Wang Hu was different. His parents cared about his academic performance, and his results had always been mediocre not terrible, but not great either.

But this time, their plans fell through. When the three of them reached the pavilion, every one of the limited seating areas was already occupied apparently by other students who had also skipped the sports day.

Looking at the crowded pavilion, Shi Wangui suddenly had an idea. “Do you guys want to go somewhere better?”

Sun Yi leaned in. “Where?”

Shi Wangui shook her sleeves, but nothing fell out. Then she clasped her hands behind her back and strode forward confidently. “Come on, follow me.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Sun Yi and Wang Hu chimed in.

And so, Shi Wangui walked ahead like a boss, the shortest of the three, yet leading the way with her head held high. The zipper on her school uniform seemed broken; no matter how cold it got, she never zipped it up. The sides of her uniform swayed with each step she took.

“Here. This place is absolutely quiet, absolutely safe, and absolutely spacious,” Shi Wangui declared, looking up with barely concealed pride.

“You’re not wrong,” Sun Yi said, eyeing the auditorium door. “But getting in is the problem.”

Shi Wangui pulled a key out of her pocket. “That’s where your Sister Wan’s skills come in.”

“Whoa,” Sun Yi took the key and examined it. “How did you get the key to the school auditorium?”

“The homeroom teacher gave the keys to the class monitor, asking her to fetch a few large bags around five in the afternoon to collect bottles. When I overheard, I offered to help her get them.” Shi Wangui took the keys and gently opened the door. “I never thought they’d come in handy like this.”

The school auditorium was usually only opened for holidays. This particular auditorium was designated for student use, equipped with various instruments and costumes for everyone to utilize.

As they pushed the door open, a rectangular stage with red curtains came into view. Shi Wangui and her friends planned to head backstage, as it was a safer spot. After all, playing games out in the open could attract unwanted attention from sharp-eared administrators.

Backstage was mainly a storage area for costumes and miscellaneous items. The trio found three stools and settled in a dimly lit corner, pulling out their phones to start a gaming session.

But after just two rounds, the problem became apparent: Shi Wangui wasn’t very skilled. She had limited gaming experience and only knew how to play a few heroes. Yet, she had a particular fondness for combat-type heroes, the kind that were rugged-looking and had high burst damage, usually male characters.

“Wanwan.” Sun Yi couldn’t hold back after another defeat. She wasn’t criticizing her friend’s skills, but she had to speak up. “Why not try a mage? They deal a lot of damage too.”

Shi Wangui looked up. “Really? I’ve never played one, but assassins are pretty good too. They can deal damage as well.”

Wang Hu chimed in, “Sure, but your screen stays dark longer than it’s lit.”

Shi Wangui kicked him lightly. “Get lost.”

Sun Yi stepped in as the mediator. “He’s not saying you’re bad just that you play assassins too gently.”

“Of course, our Wanwan is naturally gentle, so it’s fine to play that way. But mages might suit you better.”

“Gentle? Where?” Wang Hu rubbed his leg where he’d been kicked and pulled up his pants. “Look, it’s all red now.”

Shi Wangui crossed her arms and leaned back, but her elbow accidentally bumped against a wooden board by the bed. The board wobbled, and a book fell from it. The cover read, My Love.

The three of them were immediately drawn to the book. The title was eye-catching, especially at their age of fifteen or sixteen, when the word “love” was often misunderstood. They would misinterpret it, experiment with it, regret it, and yet still yearn for it.

Shi Wangui, being the closest, bent down to pick it up and placed it in the middle. The three of them huddled together, flipping through the handwritten pages one by one.

The book contained thirty pages, all written by hand. Judging by the neat, elegant handwriting, it seemed to be a girl’s work. The content was delicate, recounting a three-year-long love story. Unfortunately, the narrative ended on the day of high school graduation, leaving the outcome unknown.

After finishing the book, Shi Wangui closed it. Sun Yi asked, “Is this some senior’s secret crush story? Did they end up together?”

Although the entire book was about love, it never detailed the actions of the other person only the senior’s perspective of them. The person was referred to as “Z.” Perhaps they weren’t perfect, but love had cast a golden glow upon them.

“Maybe it’s not a boy,” Shi Wangui suddenly said, reopening the book and pointing to a line on one of the pages. “Look, ‘She was truly outstanding on stage.'”

Wang Hu wondered, “So, was the writer a boy then?”

Shi Wangui still shook her head. “Didn’t it say later that she cut off her waist-length hair?”

The air suddenly grew quiet. It was the first time they had encountered something like this, and perhaps none of them knew how to react. It was a niche story that seemed to end in tragedy.

Sun Yi broke the silence. “Hey, what’s the big deal? Isn’t it normal for girls to like girls? Everyone has the right to pursue love.”

Then she nudged Shi Wangui with her elbow. “When are you going to find someone? You’re practically on your way to becoming a nun.”

“No way! I don’t want to date,” Shi Wangui protested. She had no interest in romance at least, she had never liked anyone since she was young. “If I have to, I’d rather date money.”

Sun Yi replied, “Alright, alright.”

Wang Hu chimed in, “Hahaha.”

“But have any of you been up on this stage before?” Shi Wangui suddenly asked. “I’ve never been on a stage.”

Sun Yi immediately took Shi Wangui’s hand and led her to the center of the stage. It was still daytime, and the light streaming through the windows fell perfectly on the stage. The wooden planks at the edges creaked under their steps, but the center felt surprisingly sturdy.

“See, now you’ve been on it,” Sun Yi said, spreading her arms wide.

Shi Wangui mimicked Sun Yi’s gesture, tilting her head to look up at the small window above. The door had been locked from the outside, but since there was a sizable gap, it could also be locked from the inside. At that moment, they felt like birds in a gilded cage, faced with two choices: to struggle alone or to live a stable life.

Her dreams were simple just to be happy. She didn’t need great wealth or luxury, just enough to eat and drink without worry, and some personal time to herself. Yet, the simplest dreams often seemed the hardest to achieve.

“What are you two doing?” Wang Hu called out from below the stage, raising his voice. “Are you trying to be princesses waiting for your Prince Charmings?”

They stood bathed in sunlight, their light blue school uniforms worn loosely, their thin bangs casting shadows on the sides of their faces.

“What’s wrong with that?” Sun Yi retorted. “Who doesn’t dream of a Prince Charming riding in to sweep them off their feet?”

Wang Hu laughed. “That’s naive. How many guys would actually do that?”

“It doesn’t have to be a guy,” Shi Wangui said without thinking, then noticed everyone’s eyes on her. “Didn’t we just read about a girl? Who says a girl can’t be a Prince Charming.”

After finishing the senior’s story, Shi Wangui felt a warmth in her heart. For some reason, she envied the way the two characters interacted and the love they shared, a love that wasn’t material but a spiritual salvation.

“Exactly, why can’t a Prince Charming be a girl?” Sun Yi agreed. She hadn’t given it much thought before, but since Shi Wangui had brought it up, she didn’t want her friend to feel left out.

“Well, if you put it that way. I think.” Wang Hu suddenly paused.

“Think what?” Shi Wangui and Sun Yi asked in unison.

“It’s just…” Wang Hu hesitated, stumbling over his words. “I heard the class monitor and the others say that Wen Youren is like a prince.”

“What?!” Shi Wangui raised her voice. “What a bunch of people with no taste.”

Just then, the door suddenly swung open, and all three of them turned to look outside. It was Wen Youren, unlocking it with a key.

Wen Youren was wearing a gray tracksuit today. She was the most unique one because her school uniform hadn’t arrived yet, so she was currently permitted to wear her own clothes.

She was wearing glasses today this was the first time anyone had seen her in glasses. The frames were silver-toned with black edges. Most of her bangs were swept back, leaving only a few stray strands in front. Her hair was short but didn’t obscure her face. One hand pushed the door open while the other remained in her pocket.

Shi Wangui: “…”

Shi Wangui fell silent for a moment because she couldn’t deny that Wen Youren was strikingly attractive not in a delicate, youthful way, but with a memorable beauty that left a lasting impression.

“How do you have a key?” Shi Wangui asked, then glanced behind her. “Are you alone?”

“The teacher from Class One asked me to help get some bags,” Wen Youren walked straight in. “That’s the question I should be asking you.”

The Class One teacher knew Wen Youren and happened to run into her, so they asked for her help.

“What, are you going to tell on us?” Sun Yi challenged. “Just try it.”

Wen Youren laughed. “I’m not that childish.”

She went inside, picked up several large bags, and as she prepared to leave, added, “Aren’t you coming?”

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