Who Asked You To Deceive My First Love? - Chapter 1

Chapter 1: The Transfer Student

Goal Rank: 1st Place.

Midsummer in Nanjian City was always unbearably sweltering.

The midday sun scorched every corner of the No. 3 High School campus, making the red welcome banners plastered on the tiled exterior walls look even more vivid.

Qiao Muyu walked toward the teaching building, sticking to the shade of the trees. The cicadas hidden in the lush foliage chirped incessantly, so loud that he pressed the volume button on his headphones up another notch to drown them out with his English listening practice.

Simultaneously, a series of message notifications chimed in his ear, several in a row, revealing the sender’s desperate urge to share some news.

Qiao Muyu glanced at his phone screen and tapped into the pinned group chat titled “1+1+1=”.

[Du Jingfei]: MASSIVE NEWS!!! [Du Jingfei]: I heard we’re getting a new student in our class this semester! [Xu Rongcan]: As expected of the “Melon God” Du. It’s only the first day of school and you’ve already sniffed out such a big scoop? [Xu Rongcan]: But why transfer during the third year of high school? Is this “melon” [rumor] legit? [Du Jingfei]: Guaranteed! [Du Jingfei]: I just heard several teachers talking about it in the office. They said it’s a boy. [Xu Rongcan]: A boy? What does he look like? Is he handsome? [Starry eyes emoji] [Du Jingfei]: Get out of here. You “flower-idiot” only think about looking at handsome guys. Can’t you focus on some valuable info?

Qiao Muyu thought for a moment, his fingertips tapping the screen as he composed a message.

[Qiao Muyu]: A transfer student isn’t that unusual, but how did they get placed in the elite class right away? Is this new student’s academic record that impressive? [Du Jingfei]: I’m not sure about the grades, but…

Du Jingfei dropped a “sneaky cat” expression. Two seconds later, a voice message popped up.

His voice was intentionally lowered, sounding quite conspiratorial: “I heard Director Huang say this guy’s family is loaded. To make the transfer go smoothly, his family even made a donation to the school!”

[Xu Rongcan]: Wow, a “resource player” in our crappy school? Truly a once-in-a-lifetime sight!

Qiao Muyu didn’t look closely at what the two discussed next. He tucked his phone away and walked into the Classroom of Grade 12, Class 1.

As he was tidying his desk, a classmate leaned over the window and called out to him: “Monitor! Old Wan wants you to go to the office. He says he has something for you!”

…

The office air conditioning was set to a comfortable temperature, and the room carried the faint scent of ink and paper.

Today was the opening day of Nanjian No. 3 High School. The morning registration process was largely finished, and afternoon classes were about to begin. Several teachers were already at their posts preparing lessons, chatting idly.

After Qiao Muyu announced himself and entered, he walked straight to the desk of his homeroom teacher, Wan Qianghai, and instinctively put on a well-behaved smile: “Teacher, you were looking for me?”

Wan Qianghai picked up his eternal “Old Cadre” style thermos—printed with the school name and logo—took a slow sip of tea, and spoke leisurely: “Xiao Qiao, for the opening ceremony in two days, we need an outstanding student representative to give a speech. Director Huang told me he wants to pick you to set a good example for the juniors in the first and second years. No problem, right?”

This was a good thing, so Qiao Muyu readily agreed: “No problem. Thank you for the opportunity, Teacher. I’ll prepare well.”

“Don’t be nervous. Just go back and write an 800-word speech. The theme should be youth and learning, and the content needs to be positive. And—”

Mid-sentence, Wan Qianghai’s gaze suddenly skipped past Qiao Muyu toward the window. He smiled and waved: “Hey, Xiao Lu! Come on in!”

Qiao Muyu looked back, his eyes momentarily dazzled by the harsh light reflecting off the hallway tiles.

A second later, a tall, clean-cut figure passed the window, momentarily blocking the sunlight. Then, the office door was pushed open. The hand resting on the door handle was clean and slender, with a simple matte black sports watch on a well-defined wrist.

Qiao Muyu looked up and locked eyes with the newcomer, feeling a slight jolt: When did No. 3 High get such a striking guy?

The boy before him had deep features and sharp contours. His school uniform was pristine, and his black backpack was slung carelessly over one shoulder, exuding a casual yet distant aura.

While he was dazed, Wan Qianghai patted Qiao Muyu’s arm: “Come, come, Xiao Qiao. I’ll introduce you two.”

Wan Qianghai stood up and pointed at the boy. “This is Lu Zhen. He’s the new student joining our class this semester.”

What a coincidence.

So this is the rumored “resource player” transfer student?

Qiao Muyu couldn’t help but steal another glance. After meeting his gaze, Qiao Muyu curved his eyes into a polite, warm smile: “Student Lu, welcome to—”

Before the welcome could be finished, Lu Zhen gave him a cursory glance, withdrew his gaze, and offered a cold profile. He turned to Wan Qianghai and got straight to the point: “Teacher, where do I pick up my textbooks and materials?”

“Oh, right! How did I forget that! Go to the building opposite this one and find Director Chen in the materials room. His office is the last one on the second floor.” Wan Qianghai said, then looked at Qiao Muyu. “How about Xiao Qiao accompanying you?”

Before Qiao Muyu could say anything, Lu Zhen already refused: “No need. I can find my own way.”

With that, he turned and left without any further pleasantries.

Qiao Muyu: “…”

Ha. I was just treated like thin air.

He couldn’t help but scoff inwardly.

Wan Qianghai also noticed Lu Zhen’s cold reaction. After a moment’s thought, he cautioned Qiao Muyu: “Xiao Qiao, Xiao Lu is a transfer student from out of province. Everyone feels a bit out of place in a new environment. I hope our class can get along with him. A good class atmosphere leads to progress in studies, understand?”

Knowing that Wan Qianghai always prioritized class unity, Qiao Muyu naturally nodded.

Wan Qianghai took another sip of tea. “You’re the class monitor and you’re popular. So, look after the new student, especially regarding academics. No problem, right?”

Qiao Muyu recalled how the new student hadn’t shown the slightest interest in playing along with a “friendly classmate” script. He didn’t have a great impression of him.

In short, a “Strong-ge” [someone acting tough/cool].

But he was the class monitor. Negotiating between teachers and students and handling the “dirty work” was the only way to ensure he won the student-voted “Outstanding Class Cadre” award every semester.

The students of Class 1 even had a jingle for him: Monitor Xiao Yu is a brick; wherever he’s needed, he’ll stick.

Though reluctant, Qiao Muyu gave face and agreed: “Of course. Don’t worry, Teacher. I’ll take good care of him.”

Wan Qianghai was very satisfied and patted his shoulder: “Thanks for the hard work.”

Qiao Muyu smiled slightly: “It’s no trouble. ^^”

My life is just miserable. orz

…

Before long, the bell rang. Students scurrying in the hallways rushed back to their seats, waiting for the first class meeting of the semester.

Wan Qianghai entered the classroom, skipped the fluff, and announced the new member of Class 1. He then gestured toward the door: “Xiao Lu, come and introduce yourself!”

As the new student walked in, a small wave of excited gasps rippled through the classroom.

Lu Zhen ignored the numerous scrutinizing gazes. He walked onto the podium with composure, picked up a piece of chalk, and wrote his name on the blackboard. He turned to face everyone, gave a slight nod, and spoke in a cool, indifferent tone: “Lu Zhen. I’m new. Please look after me.”

The class didn’t expect such a brief introduction. After a stunned pause, a round of applause broke out.

Many girls blushed and looked at Lu Zhen with starry eyes, clapping with extra effort.

Qiao Muyu clapped along. He thought to himself that he couldn’t blame the girls for being excited; though he didn’t want to admit it, this guy was undeniably handsome.

If No. 3 High ever held a “School Grass” [most handsome boy] competition, this guy would definitely be a formidable rival.

Wan Qianghai scanned the room and finally pointed to an empty seat in the last row of the first group: “Lu Zhen, you sit there.”

Qiao Muyu froze. Wasn’t that right behind him?

He turned around and saw his neighbor in the back, Yu Liang, sitting up with surprise: “Hey, I finally have a seatmate!”

There were 47 students in Class 1—an odd number. Yu Liang was the tallest boy and had been the unlucky “loner” for two years, never having anyone to whisper to in class. He was very satisfied with this “parachuted” seatmate.

Once the new student was seated, the class meeting officially began.

Wan Qianghai used a PowerPoint presentation that lacked any aesthetic sense but was very detailed. He focused on analyzing the final exams from the previous semester, saying they needed to identify problems and summarize experiences.

The high-scoring students listened with interest, while those who failed kept their heads down.

Qiao Muyu looked at his own transcript: Total score 686, ranked 1st in the grade.

He was satisfied with this result because he had pulled ahead of the 2nd place student by a 16-point margin, firmly securing his throne as the top student.

Qiao Muyu stroked the rank on the paper that everyone envied, feeling a small surge of pride.

But he knew he couldn’t be complacent. He had to work even harder this semester.

…

After class, Qiao Muyu returned from the restroom to find his seatmate, Li Tianquan, handing him a form: “Monitor, I’ve filled mine out. Your turn.”

Qiao Muyu took a look. It was the “Target Grade Statistics Form” Wan Qianghai had mentioned during the meeting.

Simply put, it was for students to set a “flag” for themselves. Every student had to determine a target score and rank for the upcoming midterm exam based on their current level.

To prevent slacking or being unrealistic, the target had to be approved by the homeroom teacher. Those who reached their goal would receive a small reward from Old Wan’s own pocket, while those who failed would be punished with extra cleaning duties. It was a classic “gentle” incentive.

Qiao Muyu thought for a moment before writing: Target score 660, Rank Top 5.

Li Tianquan, glancing over, couldn’t help but nitpick: “Come on, Monitor, you’re only writing that? Where’s the sincerity?”

“Is that so?” Qiao Muyu blinked innocently, feigning hesitation. “660 isn’t low, is it?”

“That score would be a huge challenge for us, but for you, it’s nothing! You got over 680 last time!”

Li Tianquan was an honest person, but Qiao Muyu definitely was not.

Students like Qiao Muyu were, to put it nicely, “humble in public but grinding in private.” To put it bluntly, he was a “Learning Green Tea Bitch”—an academic “slay” artist. The more he lowered his posture verbally, the more he intended to win spectacularly in action.

Case in point: facing Li Tianquan’s praise, Qiao Muyu smiled and capped his pen, replying with his usual modesty: “It was just luck. I might not do as well next time.”

Bullsht.* Next time, I’m definitely taking first place again!

Qiao Muyu, a “Top-Aholic” in his terminal stage, silently set his real flag. He turned around and handed the form to the back row: “Student Lu, your turn to fill this out.”

Lu Zhen was tidying his desk. Seeing the form, he looked confused: “What’s this?”

“Target Grade Statistics Form,” Qiao Muyu explained. “Old Wan mentioned it in class.”

Lu Zhen took the form and looked it over, seemingly realizing what it was.

“This will be evaluated at the midterms. If you don’t reach it, there’s a penalty, so you should think it over. You can—”

Before Qiao Muyu’s kind reminder could be finished, he saw Lu Zhen pick up the pen and write without hesitation.

Qiao Muyu leaned down curiously to look at the tip of the pen, and his eyes widened.

Because what this person wrote was:

Name: Lu Zhen. Target Score: 700. Target Rank: 1st Place.

Qiao Muyu stared at that sharp, elegant handwriting, momentarily losing the ability to speak.

Damn.

Is this guy… for real!?