The White Moonlight is So Scheming - Chapter 42

A gentle breeze stirred the sheer curtains, making them flutter and sway.

The glaring sunlight split the bedroom into stark extremes of light and shadow, the two standing separately in black and white, sharply divided.

Shen Tinghan remained deeply immersed in the darkness.

Her eyes were unfathomable, shadowed with unreadable emotions.

The sunlight gilded the tips of Shen Juexia’s hair with gold as she pressed her lips together, her gaze fixed intently on Shen Tinghan, quietly awaiting her response.

A meter apart.

Their eyes met, yet neither spoke.

Under Shen Juexia’s pleading gaze, Shen Tinghan lowered her eyes, letting the sliver of doubt in her heart slip away. “What gift did you prepare for me, Xia Xia?”

“Sister, come with me. It’s in the walk-in closet.” Clutching her phone tightly, Shen Juexia pivoted on her toes and turned toward the closet.

Their class rotated seats every month, with each student shifting one column to the left.

Shen Juexia and Yao Qingyan ended up on opposite corners of the classroom. The final straw that broke the camel’s back. The distance between them grew, leaving even less reason to speak.

No one initiated conversation with her, and naturally, no one invited her to eat together. Being alone was quieter, freer.

Everyone looked at her, yet no one spoke to her.

While filling her water bottle in the hallway, her ears caught fragments of conversation. Words she didn’t understand, nor cared to.

Once, lingering outside the classroom, she overheard Yao Qingyan gossiping with her clique, her voice laced with malice and intimidation.

“Anyone who talks to her is going against me.”

“She looks down on us, thinks her so-called British royal blood makes her superior.”

“Did you know? She lives in Yongde Phase Three!”

“Ugh, I thought only lonely old people lived there. So shabby. No idea what she’s so arrogant about.”

…

Shen Juexia paused at the classroom door, then turned toward the restroom. She didn’t want to stand there foolishly, nor did she want to breathe in the sharp scent of peppermint liqueur laced with spite.

Yao Qingyan knew everyone in their grade, and both boys and girls followed her lead without question. High school was already a microcosm of society; pretty, wealthy, and manipulative, she was the undisputed queen bee.

The only exception was Zhong Xiaoxiao, who had never gotten along with Yao Qingyan and operated independently. Seeing another neutral party in class, she tried every trick to cozy up to Shen Juexia.

But Shen Juexia remembered Du Yuting. She knew she shouldn’t resent anyone, yet she couldn’t bring herself to like Zhong Xiaoxiao, shutting her out with icy indifference.

So now, looking back, Shen Juexia couldn’t fathom why Yao Qingyan had ever approached her in the first place. Why she’d abandoned her trio of friends just to share dull lunches with her.

Sometimes, she’d pull up their old chat logs and stare blankly, the surrealness of it all making her feel submerged in a dream. Since then, no one had sent her another WeChat message.

And it was because of those two texts. Once filled with affection that she endured countless false rumors, met countless scornful glances, and never fought back.

What a coward.

That was truly how she saw herself.

The only silver lining was that her seat was now closer to the window. Trapped in the classroom’s cage, she could turn her head slightly and let her spirit soar into the vast world outside.

But now, she had no reason to look at Shen Tinghan anymore. She could no longer glimpse the crucial problem-solving steps on those early-finished quizzes. And with the troublemaking slackers Ni Zikun to her left and Deng Tingxuan to her right, there was little hope for academic inspiration.

Shen Tinghan had rotated to the far-right corner, right next to the classroom’s back door. Though the scenery around her had changed, her days of quietly doing homework and reading alone remained the same as ever.

While top students begged teachers to move their seats forward, Shen Tinghan had always insisted on sitting in the last row. Fortunately, her height was just enough to justify it, and the teachers, unable to argue, had no choice but to tacitly allow the top-ranked academic ace to remain an untouchable recluse.

The last row was far from the noise, and Shen Tinghan rarely left her seat. Yet, the area around her remained bustling. She never sought others out, but there was always someone coming to her. The regulars were class representatives Yang Ke and Guan Yizhe, who came to ask questions when they had them and to chat idly even when they didn’t.

Why would anyone want to sit in the last row?

Sometimes, Shen Juexia felt that she and Shen Tinghan were actually the same kind of people but then she’d think that such an idea was too self-flattering.

After the class monitor stopped sitting by the window, Shen Juexia felt like something was missing from the view outside. Even though the greenery and the returning birds were increasing, it still felt emptier.

She tried her best to control how often she turned her head, because now the only person to her left was Ni Zikun. Every time she glanced his way, he’d smugly flick his hair, like a preening rooster spreading its wings.

Shen Juexia had a strong suspicion that Ni Zikun only showered once a week. By the time Thursday rolled around, his hair was so greasy it could fry french fries, and a shake of his head could probably make it snow dandruff.

She had returned to eating alone.

Truthfully, back in England, she had always been used to eating by herself. It was just that Yao Qingyan had changed that habit. So reverting to solitude now required no effort at all.

Thus, after the last class before lunch, Shen Juexia would always stay behind to study, only heading to the cafeteria once it was nearly empty.

She didn’t mind eating cold food. Saving time by skipping the line and avoiding the constant stares was worth it.

The first class after lunch was P.E., and no one wanted to risk appendicitis, so they all rushed to eat early. Within five minutes, the space around Shen Juexia was completely deserted.

“Monitor, waaaah, what do I doooo?” Yang Ke bounced toward the back of the classroom. “The novel had a bad ending!”

Shen Tinghan had been sitting at her desk, holding a mysterious English novel, as steady as a mountain. At Yang Ke’s voice, she had no choice but to look up. “A bad ending?”

“Yeah! The female lead jumped off a cliff, and the male lead followed her in death—aaaaaah!” Yang Ke chattered incessantly while pulling Shen Tinghan up.

At that moment, Sun Zhizhi and Zheng Wenjun pounced over like starving tigers. “We’ll go with you!”

“Sure.” Shen Tinghan tucked in her bookmark and closed the book.

The classroom was empty except for Shen Juexia, sitting motionless at her desk.

Just before stepping out of the classroom, Shen Tinghan suddenly turned back. “Shen Juexia, do you want to come with us?”

The air instantly stilled.

Yang Ke and Sun Zhizhi exchanged a glance, their expressions complicated.

Shen Juexia jerked her head up, her grip on her pen slipping. It clattered onto the desk.

The invitation was too sudden. She didn’t react at first, and when she did, just the sight of those people was enough to make her breath hitch.

“No, thanks. I’ll eat later.”

This was the first time anyone had invited her to eat together since the fallout with Yao Qingyan. And what was even more shocking was that the inviter was Shen Tinghan, the one everyone wanted to eat with.

Shen Juexia’s heart pounded violently, the numbness in her brain spreading to her windpipe. “Thank you,” she added softly.

“I told you she wouldn’t come,” Yang Ke muttered under her breath.

Zheng Wenjun whispered back, “Calling her was a waste of time.”

Shen Tinghan was jostled and pushed by a total of three people from all sides, disappearing outside the classroom door.

–

The day of the physical fitness test arrived. After 2 p.m., all students in the school were divided into three groups, taking turns to suspend classes and head to the playground and gymnasium for the city’s education bureau-mandated physical health assessment.

Shen Juexia had never seen anything like this before. In the UK, physical education was never a compulsory subject. Students could choose sports they loved based on their interests, and PE grades weren’t factored into academic performance.

After the second class in the afternoon, students from six classes went downstairs to the gymnasium to start with sit-ups and the long jump.

Shen Juexia blended into the crowd and soon finished both tests without much fuss. Her only sensation afterward was a slight soreness in her abdomen, and she had no idea what her scores of “27” and “1.68” even meant.

She waited under the shade of a tree beside the gymnasium. The prearranged gathering spot for Class 3.

More and more students emerged from the gymnasium, some triumphant, some dejected, and others utterly indifferent.

The atmosphere grew increasingly oppressive.

Shen Juexia could sense the tension in everyone.

Classmates who were usually chatty and lively now mostly stayed silent, occasionally stealing glances at the glaring red track, their faces twisted as if they’d swallowed a cockroach.

Finally, led by their female PE monitor Zheng Wenjun, Class 3 of Grade 1 arrived at the track field for the final event of the fitness test; the 800-meter run.

Never before had the class been so filled with tension and despair.

“I don’t want to run the 800!” Ma Youyou clung desperately to Mu Yulan’s arm as if she were watching a horror movie.

Mu Yulan patted her shoulder. “You’ll do fine.” But her expression didn’t match her words. She looked like she was on the verge of tears.

“I won’t do fine. I’ve already saponified,” Ma Youyou lamented, on the brink of tears.

Standing at the back of the group, Shen Juexia listened to the complaints but couldn’t understand why everyone was so afraid. In China, students faced weekly tests and exams. Surely they should have been immune to all kinds of assessments by now.

Unable to hold back any longer, she quietly approached the PE monitor and asked, “Why is everyone so scared of running 800 meters?”

Zheng Wenjun gave her an incredulous look, then seemed to understand something as her eyes lingered on Shen Juexia’s slender legs beneath the oversized school uniform.

With a hint of sarcasm, she replied, “Oh, you’re amazing. You’re not scared.”

Shen Juexia caught the hostility in her tone and silently stepped back.

Shen Tinghan stood in the middle of the group, nodding sympathetically as others vented, though she never uttered a single negative word herself.

“Class 3, over here! Grade 1, Class 3!” the PE teacher bellowed through a megaphone.

Zheng Wenjun then led the class to the starting point, the line of students now a chorus of groans.

A sleepless night passed.

Dragging her exhausted body, Shen Juexia arrived at the classroom at the crack of dawn, her stomach empty, her head dizzy, and sleep eluding her. She figured she might as well come to school early.

The classroom was empty but not entirely undisturbed.

At a glance, Shen Juexia noticed the neatly arranged, unopened backpack in the left corner by the window. Its owner, however, was nowhere to be seen.

She had thought arriving at school by 6:50 would surely put her ahead of Shen Tinghan, but it seemed she was still late.

The classroom was unusually quiet. Shen Juexia walked to the window and looked outside. The weather was warming, and through the clear glass, she could see patches of soft, fuzzy green.

On the playground, a red-and-white speck moved steadily along the running track.

Shen Juexia craned her neck, leaning closer to the window, watching the ponytail that barely reached past the shoulders sway from side to side.

She could recognize Shen Tinghan’s back at a glance.

Slender in build, narrow from shoulder to hip. At first glance, she seemed fragile, but every movement exuded control. Her neck was long, her legs even longer, and when she strode forward, she moved like an antelope leaping across a canyon.

So she went for a run, Shen Juexia thought, staring blankly at the retreating figure. A full five minutes passed before the silhouette disappeared from the track, and only then did she snap out of her daze.

Flustered, Shen Juexia hurried back to her seat and yanked open her backpack.

Soon enough, Shen Tinghan entered the classroom.

Her breathing was heavy, her face flushed, sweat dripping incessantly from her temples. She pulled a tissue from her pocket and wiped it away.

When she spotted Shen Juexia, Shen Tinghan paused. “Good morning.”

Shen Juexia froze too. Classmates rarely greeted her proactively. She wasn’t used to it.

“Good morning.”

Shen Tinghan returned to her seat, unzipped her bag, and pulled out a carton of milk. Sipping it slowly, she wiped down her desk with an alcohol wipe.

She really cleans her desk every single day, no wonder it’s always so shiny, Shen Juexia mused. Shiny and neat, like she’s in military school or something.

Shen Juexia pulled out her Chinese workbook, its cover wrapped in tape, a chunk of the purple surface missing to reveal the stark white title page beneath.

Shen Tinghan noticed the workbook, her expression flickering for a moment.

Their class had a self-service homework submission system. Everyone placed their assignments in the appropriate piles on the teacher’s desk upon arrival, and after morning self-study, the respective subject representatives would carry them to the teachers’ office.

Shen Juexia gathered seven workbooks and headed for the front.

Today, the stack in her arms felt unusually heavy. With every step, her heart throbbed violently, and her temples pulsed with pain.

Her vision darkened. She set the pile down on a nearby desk maybe she should carry them one by one.

A breeze carrying the scent of cherries brushed past her cheek.

Shen Juexia turned to see Shen Tinghan walking by with her own stack of assignments. Not just nine thick workbooks, but also a pile of today’s physics quizzes balanced on top.

Shen Tinghan placed her stack neatly on the teacher’s desk. Everything she did was terrifyingly efficient, her hands moving so fast they almost left afterimages, like some anime gambling prodigy. In seconds, she had sorted all the assignments by subject, pushing the quizzes to the very center.

As she stepped down from the platform, she asked, “Need help?”

Shen Juexia immediately replied, “No.” She had never been comfortable accepting kindness from others. And for some reason, the memory of those frostbitten hands gripping a violin in the snow made her even more reluctant to accept assistance.

Shen Tinghan returned to her seat but didn’t sit down right away. Instead, she pulled something small from her bag and stood waiting by her desk.

By the time Shen Juexia finally finished submitting her work, her steps felt light and unsteady as she made her way back. Just as she neared her seat, a hand extended from the right.

On the palm lay an onigiri, the kind bought from a convenience store.

“Want this?” Shen Tinghan asked.

Shen Juexia averted her gaze, trying not to look at the tempting rice ball. “No, thanks.”

Tuna and mayonnaise onigiri, a classic flavor. She’d had it once years ago at a Japanese restaurant in London with a friend. The taste was unforgettable.

Shen Tinghan insisted, “I already had breakfast. It’s fine.”

Shen Juexia remembered. Shen Tinghan always had snacks, morning and afternoon. A piece of fruit, a pack of crackers. This onigiri was probably today’s mid-morning snack.

The mere thought of the rice ball made her head spin a little. It was her brain and stomach at odds with each other.

“You’ve gone pale,” Shen Tinghan said without hesitation, shoving the rice ball directly into Shen Juexia’s hands. “I have other snacks.”

Shen Juexia gripped the rice ball and lowered her eyes. “Thanks.”

“No need.” Shen Tinghan stepped over the empty seat to her left and returned to her domain by the window.

The first classmate to arrive after them was Kong Wenlong, the class monitor’s number one sycophant. Everyone reasonably suspected he came to school so early every day just for the sake of his beloved monitor.

“Monitor Shen, good morning!” Kong Wenlong shouted across the entire diagonal of the classroom just to greet her.

Shen Tinghan looked up and gave him a faint smile. “Morning.”

Shen Juexia clumsily tore open the plastic wrapper, shredding it haphazardly, the seaweed inside crumbling apart.

Kong Wenlong glanced at Shen Juexia, noticing she was eating breakfast, and deliberately raised his voice. “No wonder there’s a weird smell in here. Someone’s having a feast.”

Shen Juexia didn’t just ignore him; she didn’t even spare him a glance, taking a large bite of the rice ball as if he weren’t there.

“Your nose is sharp.”

Kong Wenlong was a little flustered by her attitude. He slammed his bag onto his seat and leaned over to look. “What’s that? A rice ball? Looks disgusting.”

Shen Juexia was about to retort when a voice drifted over from her left.

“I gave that to her.” Shen Tinghan’s gaze swept over, her eyes sharp behind her glasses, as if she could tear something invisible in the air to shreds.

Kong Wenlong instantly broke into a cold sweat. “Huh?”

“Everyone has different tastes. As long as she likes it, that’s enough,” Shen Tinghan said, her eyes settling on Shen Juexia. “Do you like it?”

Shen Juexia swallowed a bite. “I do.” For some reason, her heart betrayed her again, pounding erratically; damn low blood sugar.

Only then did she realize it wasn’t that she disliked eating. It was just that most chewing wasn’t worth it. But the flavor lingering between her teeth right now? Absolutely worth it.

Kong Wenlong quietly slunk away, and Shen Juexia felt a faint thrill of satisfaction.

Thanks to the rice ball, she only managed to solve one problem during morning self-study, but her mood wasn’t as irritable as usual.

The only thing was that Yao Qingyan never showed up. Her seat in the front row remained unsettlingly empty.

Yao Qingyan arrived just before the first break ended, her face shadowed by a dark cloud. No matter which of her friends tried to talk to her, she wore a scowl.

Throughout biology class, Shen Juexia didn’t retain a single word the teacher said, her peripheral vision fixated on Yao Qingyan’s back.

When the second break came, Shen Juexia tried to follow Yao Qingyan, but Yao Qingyan glanced at her once before walking out of the classroom without looking back. The noisy crowd quickly separated them.

Morning exercises began, and Shen Juexia got stuck at the stairwell by the flood of students, helplessly watching Yao Qingyan disappear outside.

As the tallest, Shen Juexia stood at the very end of the girls’ line, while Yao Qingyan was third from the front, a row of dark heads separating them.

Morning exercises were another baffling thing for Shen Juexia. The activity could hardly be called exercise, and the rigid routine was far from enjoyable.

The music started, and two sets of calisthenics “Dancing Youth” and “Setting Free the Ideal” played one after another. Countless red-and-white uniforms moved in perfect unison, resembling the military parades she’d only ever seen on TV.

Shen Juexia mostly mimicked the movements by staring at the back of the classmate in front of her. She had a good memory, but she simply didn’t want to remember these boring exercises. Now it was time for the leg-kicking segment. She lowered her head, intently watching the shoes of the student in front—left, right, left, kick; right, left, right, kick again.

“Lift your head, Shen Juexia,” the homeroom teacher whispered as she passed by unnoticed. “Or our class will lose points.”

Shen Juexia raised her head and looked at the student leading the exercises on the platform. To her surprise, it was Shen Tinghan today.

The school’s exercise leaders rotated weekly. According to classmates, they were all top students from each class, personally “promoted” by the vice principal.

The male leader exaggerated his movements, striving for perfection but making Shen Juexia uncomfortable.

Shen Tinghan, however, executed each move with just the right amount of effort. No theatrical exaggeration, yet flawless. The contrast between them was stark.

Top students even did exercises perfectly, so everyone adored them. They were practically life’s winners. Shen Juexia couldn’t help but wonder why this treatment didn’t exist in Britain only in China. But here, she couldn’t even be first.

After the morning exercises ended, the principal gave the usual five-minute lecture from the platform before dismissing the students.

Shen Juexia squeezed past countless shoulders before finally reaching Yao Qingyan’s clique.

Yao Qingyan rolled her eyes at her, lips pursed so tightly her dimples wrinkled, her delicate nose tilted haughtily upward.

Mu Yulan, the twin-tailed girl from the fangirl trio, looked at her incredulously. “He confessed his feelings to you sincerely, and this is how you treat him? Cold-shouldering him?”

“Oh-ho, we all saw how fast you replied in the class group chat. Just not treating our Yao-jie as a friend, huh?”

“That’s because—” Shen Juexia’s lips trembled.

Ma Youyou shook her head, deliberately cutting her off. “Aren’t you into girls? Is this how you act?”

“Who told you I like girls?” Shen Juexia didn’t remember saying that. And even if she did, it didn’t mean she liked every girl. She wanted to say it but couldn’t get the words out.

Yao Qingyan arched her eyebrows mockingly, the answer practically written on her face.

Shen Juexia panicked. “I mean, gender doesn’t matter to me.” Her tongue felt numb, a side effect of mingled frustration and nerves.

“Enough. Ignore her.” Yao Qingyan, as the leader of the group, issued the final verdict.

Their figures gradually faded into the distance. Shen Juexia didn’t have the energy to follow, stopping at the edge of the field. Sunlight filtered through her curly bangs, warming her forehead. The sweat made her skin burn. Apparently, morning exercises were more intense than she thought.

That morning, as expected, Shen Tinghan hadn’t eaten extra. The rice ball she’d brought was originally meant for her own breakfast.

Shen Juexia agonized over how much that rice ball cost and how to clear up the misunderstanding with Yao Qingyan, completely unable to focus on studying.

Social interactions were truly the most troublesome thing in the world.

So, she absolutely had to settle things with Shen Tinghan.

After eating lunch alone, Shen Juexia went to the school store. She didn’t know how much convenience store rice balls cost, so she could only estimate and buy something of similar value.

On her way back to the classroom, she happened to run into Shen Tinghan.

As usual, Shen Tinghan was flanked by her two loyal “bodyguards.” Shen Juexia knew the fair and universally adored class president got along with everyone. She never actively sought anyone out; people always invited her first.

If she waited for Shen Tinghan to be alone before giving her the bread, she might never get the chance.

Shen Juexia mustered up her courage and stopped them: “Shen Tinghan.”

“Hmm?” Shen Tinghan immediately noticed the bread in her hand.

Shen Juexia shoved it into her arms, just like she had done that morning: “For you.” Then she hastily lowered her head, turned away, and averted her gaze.

Shen Tinghan removed her black-framed glasses and handed them to the P.E. teacher for safekeeping. Her dark, peach-blossom-shaped eyes remained utterly calm.

She swiftly tied her hair into a high ponytail and rolled up the cuffs of her school uniform pants, revealing her calves.

Shen Juexia’s eyes widened.

She had assumed Shen Tinghan was frail, but just from the glimpse of those slender calves, it was clear. Shen Tinghan was indeed thin, but definitely not weak.

What beautiful legs they were. Having gone untouched by sunlight all winter, they were even paler than her already fair cheeks, the muscle lines toned and smooth.

It wasn’t until she actually stood on the track and the loudspeaker blared “On your marks!” that Shen Juexia snapped out of her daze.

Everyone scrambled for the innermost lane, pressing close to the starting line except Shen Tinghan, who stood unfazed on the outermost edge, indifferent to the slight disadvantage in distance.

“Bang!” The starting pistol fired.

When Shen Juexia first heard about the 800-meter test, she hadn’t thought much of it. She figured she could just jog casually. Passing was a given, after all.

But once the test began, after just half a lap, every breath she took burned with a dull ache.

Her classmates overtook her one after another, like arrows loosed from a bow. None of those who had promised to jog together kept their word. They sprinted faster than anyone.

As she ran, Shen Juexia gradually fell behind. By the second lap, her lungs felt scorched and swollen, her vision swaying. She really wanted to give up.

Two hundred meters ahead, Shen Tinghan with those pale calves had already crossed the finish line. Not first, but still among the fastest.

The boys’ 1000-meter race had also begun. When the boys from her class passed Shen Juexia, they deliberately sped up, even turning back to stick out their tongues.

“Pathetic, Brit!” Kong Wenlong finally had his chance to jeer.

“Tch—”

The four-eyed brat was practically on death’s door himself, yet he still found the energy to taunt her.

Shen Juexia gritted her teeth hard.

She couldn’t give up. No matter how exhausted she was.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the track, her classmates crossed the finish line one by one. By the end, she was the only one left in her group.

The P.E. teacher shouted encouragement, waving his stopwatch in the air.

Finally, Shen Juexia crossed the finish line.

She had come in last.

As if the two had planned it in advance.

The moment she caught sight of the color of Shen Tinghan’s suit, the little rabbit’s lips curled up involuntarily. Clutching the chain of her bag, Shen Juexia bounced over to her. “Sister, our outfits match so well!”

A glint flickered swiftly through Shen Tinghan’s phoenix-like eyes. Picking up her silver-buckled tote bag, she headed for the door. “We shouldn’t be late for the meeting. Let’s go! The driver’s already waiting outside.”

Left behind, Shen Juexia pouted in displeasure.

She stuck her tongue out at the retreating figure.

By the time Shen Juexia dawdled her way to the door, Shen Tinghan was already seated in the car. Seeing the open door, she huffed, tossed her bag in first, then climbed in with a sulk.

“Bang!” The sound alone was enough to convey.

The little rabbit was angry.

The driver, who was supposed to close the door, stood frozen beside the car. At the noise, his face turned ashen.

This was bad.