Returning to the Shamate Era to Seduce the Top Student - Chapter 2

September 1, 2011.

This point in time spun around in Yin Xu’s mind.

Doesn’t that make today the very first day of his sophomore year of high school?

“Hey, hey, hey, let go! You’re really playing for keeps! No matter how thick my skin is, it can’t handle you messing with it like this!”

Pan Zheshuai rescued his face from Yin Xu’s hands, the pinch having brought him nearly to tears from the pain.

He glared at Yin Xu, though he only dared to quip:

“I say, has your brain really been knocked stupid by that broken soda can? You can’t even tell friend from foe.”

“What soda can?” Yin Xu asked, puzzled.

“The one the guys we were fighting threw at you.”

Yin Xu glanced around; the environment was somewhat familiar.

If he remembered correctly, this seemed to be the cement plaza of some abandoned old park not far from their school. In the past, he often arranged to settle scores here.

Because this place had good privacy and usually no one came around, the ground was perpetually scattered with plastic trash and dead branches, making it look messy to begin with. Thus, even after a chaotic brawl, no obvious signs of a fight would be left behind.

“We were just fighting someone?” Yin Xu asked.

Seeing him ask with such a sincere face—as if he wasn’t joking—Pan Zheshuai was somewhat surprised:

“Are you for real? Did you actually get amnesia? Five minutes ago, we were right here in a group fight with those guys from the vocational school, and then you were ambushed—knocked out by a soda can. You forgot?”

Yin Xu blinked.

In his previous life, he had fought more battles than he had eaten grains of rice. He truly didn’t remember if this specific incident had happened.

Pan Zheshuai patted him on the shoulder and teased: “Old Yin, are you just pretending to have amnesia because you want to forget this embarrassing thing?”

“Get lost.” Yin Xu clenched his fist. “Do you believe I’ll beat you into actual amnesia right now?”

Pan Zheshuai immediately ducked behind Song Xingyun: “Are you trying to silence the witness?”

“Boss Yin, you can beat this idiot later.”

Song Xingyun frowned, pulled a Band-Aid from his pocket, and handed it to Yin Xu.

“Deal with the wound first. You passed out just now and nearly scared me to tears.”

Yin Xu froze: “I’m injured?”

Song Xingyun pointed through the air toward his temple: “Here, the skin is scraped a bit.”

Understanding dawned on Yin Xu. He reckoned that the broken soda can must have been somewhat sharp; no wonder he felt his temple throbbing with a dull pain.

He instinctively raised his hand to feel his forehead, but the moment his fingertips touched the wound, he let out a start from the pain.

“Hiss. Is there a mirror anywhere? I want to see if it’s serious.”

When Yin Xu asked this, he meant to ask if any nearby shops had a mirror. To his surprise, in the next second, Pan Zheshuai very naturally pulled a palm-sized hand mirror from his pocket and handed it over: “Here.”

Looking at the small pink mirror—its back covered in collectible stickers of Liu Yifei as the Little Dragon Maiden—Yin Xu’s mouth couldn’t help but twitch twice.

But seeing Song Xingyun’s calm, accustomed expression, Yin Xu swallowed the roast at the tip of his tongue.

Fine, he had forgotten that this guy was narcissistic enough to carry a mirror with him whenever he went out.

“…Thanks.”

Yin Xu took it, but the next second, upon seeing the image in the mirror without any preparation, his vision went black, and he nearly died again on the spot.

Who the fuck can tell him who this idiot in the mirror is—the one with the eye-catching red hair, bangs long enough to cover half an eye, and the ends on one side carefully styled to flick upward like a Nike logo!

It definitely couldn’t be him, Yin Xu!

Seeing Yin Xu’s pupils shrink as if he had just eaten shit, Song Xingyun leaned in curiously to look: “What’s wrong, Boss Yin? The wound isn’t that serious, right? It probably won’t leave a scar.”

Yin Xu’s hand holding the mirror trembled slightly: “…The thing that left a scar is my heart.”

The lethality of a dark history strike was truly terrifying.

God was surely messing with him, making him be reborn back into his most unspeakable ‘Smart’ period. He might as well have just been reincarnated instead.

The only thing that could comfort him now was that there were two even weirder “Family of Love” members beside him, creating this dark history together.

While thinking this, Yin Xu gloomily inspected the wound on his forehead through the mirror.

The cut wasn’t large—just a layer of skin broken, slightly flushed with blood—but the sweat at his temples had seeped into it, causing it to become inflamed with a burning, stinging sensation.

Shifting his gaze further down, Yin Xu discovered a fingernail mark on his philtrum, clearly made not long ago.

He leaned closer to the mirror to look and cursed: “Damn, those grandsons hit hard—they pinched my philtrum purple.”

“Cough, well, Old Yin.” Pan Zheshuai held back a laugh and pointed at Song Xingyun, “He’s the one who pinched it.”

Song Xingyun immediately pointed back at Pan Zheshuai: “He’s the one who ordered it.”

Finally, they added weakly: “To save you.”

Yin Xu: “…”

I thank the both of you, you pair of Crouching Dragon and Phoenix Fledgling idiots.

“Alright, alright, have you checked enough? Your face is fine, you aren’t disfigured.”

Pan Zheshuai stood up and tugged at his school uniform collar to let in some air, urging somewhat impatiently: “I’m dying of heat. Let’s find a place to buy water first.”

It was midsummer right now. Not a cloud in the sky, and the scorching sun hung over Luhe City without cover, roasting the earth. Heatwaves rolled, making everyone drip with sweat.

Yin Xu had already felt miserably hot when he was lying unconscious on the ground. Now that Pan Zheshuai mentioned it, he couldn’t help but roast them:

“Oh, so you do know it’s hot? I wanted to say it just now—couldn’t you two move me to a shaded spot before discussing how to save me? Just leaving me out here in the open like this… the sun is so fierce, I’d have been roasted into a Loulan mummy before you even woke me up!”

“Fine, fine, fine. It was poor consideration on our part. We didn’t account for the fact that you, Young Master Yin, have such delicate skin and can’t handle the wind and sun.”

Pan Zheshuai offered a perfunctory apology while pushing Yin Xu and Song Xingyun forward. “Let’s go. Brother Pan will treat you to some ice-cold soda.”

Yin Xu tore open the Band-Aid packaging and slapped it more or less over the wound on his forehead.

“Let’s go. I happen to be dying of thirst, too.”

Whatever else was happening in the world, the most important thing right now was to get a drink so he wouldn’t die of thirst within the first ten minutes of this new life’s beginning.