Yizhong Affiliated High School ninth grade, second semester—this was also their last spring field trip in the Affiliated School division.
He Dongli was in charge of collecting the permission slips and fees for this field trip.
Zhu Fengchun repeatedly emphasized that unless there were special circumstances or health reasons, everyone should participate in the class activities as much as possible.
After all the delays, only Zong Chi’s permission slip hadn’t been returned.
She went to ask him; Zong Chi sat at his desk, spinning a basketball on one finger, saying nothing.
He Dongli relayed Lao Zhu’s words: whether you’re going or not, you still need to hand in the permission slip with your parent’s signature.
If you don’t give it to me by tomorrow morning, I’ll turn it in myself.
Zong Chi couldn’t care less.
He let her stand by his desk for ages, until the class monitor called He Dongli over—the blackboard in the hallway had a corner wiped off, and that section was their responsibility.
The class monitor asked He Dongli to help touch it up.
After she left, a few boys in the back row started teasing and gossiping.
As usual, it was about how He Dongli really listened to Wei Chenyang, how she did all the work, but the class monitor took all the credit, and yet some people still foolishly ran around working hard.
Someone argued, “Ha, maybe she’s just doing it willingly.”
“Who? You mean He—”
The boy was suddenly kicked hard in his chair by Zong Chi from behind, nearly toppling forward with his seat. Zong Chi stood up as if nothing happened, went to borrow the permission slip from them.
The boy in front, puzzled, finally said, “Already turned it in.”
Zong Chi didn’t even wait to hear the rest and left through the back door.
That evening, before the end of self-study, he slapped the signed permission slip and the fee onto He Dongli’s desk.
She was packing her bag and called out to the silent Zong Chi, who didn’t even look back.
He Dongli warned him, “Zong Chi, did you forge your parent’s signature…?”
The person at the door suddenly turned back, his expression a bit threatening, but He Dongli didn’t care at all.
She finished packing, slung her bag over one shoulder, and with the permission slip pinched in her hand, walked right up to Zong Chi, brushed past him, and said in a voice that skimmed by his chin, “Let’s talk outside.”
In the hallway, facing the night, He Dongli reminded Zong Chi: “If you don’t want to go, then don’t—it’s not a big deal. But forging a parent’s signature? Lao Zhu will definitely check with your family. If the homeroom teacher passes along a ‘crime’ like that, it’ll turn serious even if it wasn’t.”
Zong Chi thought he had imitated Zong’s Father’s signature perfectly.
When he played pranks, he’d sign for documents Zong’s Father brought home, and even his father’s secretary couldn’t tell the difference.
Yet He Dongli saw through it in a second.
She handed the slip back, but Zong Chi refused to take it, insisting, “I was going to give it to you this morning—you ran off.”
He Dongli corrected him, “Me? Run? You’re the one who didn’t listen. I’m not wasting words with someone who can’t hear.”
Zong Chi retorted coldly, “You say you won’t talk, but you’re still talking so much.”
Annoyed, He Dongli folded the slip again and again, saying calmly that she’d keep it safe and hand it to Lao Zhu first thing in the morning, and tell him she had reason to suspect Zong Chi’s parent’s signature was forged…
Zong Chi immediately tried to snatch it back.
As she stuffed it into her bag, he reached in to grab it. In the struggle, he managed to tear out half.
Bookworm as she was, He Dongli’s first reaction was, “Still say you didn’t forge it? If you weren’t guilty, why are you so anxious?”
After wrestling for a while, Zong Chi found he only had the top half—the part with the signature was still in her hand.
He fumed, and He Dongli, equally annoyed, tossed the other half back to him, threatening like Lao Zhu’s lackey: “Go if you want, don’t if you don’t, but stop with these tricks. Zong Chi, if you’d just be honest for once, you wouldn’t get called out by Lao Zhu every time!”
He Dongli’s blunt advice didn’t work.
The next day, Zong Chi turned in a genuine permission slip.
On the day of the field trip, he called Lao Zhu, claiming a stomachache and said he couldn’t go.
Zhu Fengchun didn’t say a word and contacted Zong Jingzhou’s secretary.
The result: halfway up the mountain, Zong Chi was personally escorted by his father’s secretary.
Along with him was a former classmate from before he transferred—
Lin Jiaoyu.
Zhu Fengchun, not far from the Buddha statue amid the lush mountains, let Zong Chi have it with a scolding.
And that wasn’t all—he’d skipped school to play games behind his family’s back, and after hiking, he still had a stir-fried bamboo shoot and pork lecture waiting for him at home.
During the lunch break, everyone was sharing the snacks they’d brought for the trip.
Only Zong Chi and his friend, unprepared, stood empty-handed.
They discussed buying something, but at this tourist spot, there were only a few options—expensive and tasteless at that.
Zong Chi complained about the bread Lin Jiaoyu bought, “Hard as a rock, like your dad died.”
Lin Jiaoyu, ever outrageous or maybe just trying to annoy Zong Chi, shot back, “What, you’ve eaten your dead dad before?”
He Dongli happened to be passing by to throw out trash.
Lin Jiaoyu had met her a few times, and cheerfully greeted her, calling out, “He Ali!”
Zong Chi snapped at his friend, “If you like chatting with girls so much, go join the girls’ group.”
He Dongli approached openly, asking if they wanted a sandwich.
Lin Jiaoyu immediately brushed off the bread crumbs and reached out.
He Dongli nodded and went to get them.
When she returned with a lunchbox, Zong Chi was already gone.
Lin Jiaoyu said he went to the bathroom and told her not to worry.
He pointed at the box, “Is all this for us?”
He Dongli nodded. Inside were several bacon, egg, and ham sandwiches, as well as some cantaloupe with ham and air-dried beef.
Lin Jiaoyu was genuinely touched and couldn’t help but praise her mother’s cooking—careful and exquisite.
He Dongli said nothing, only reminding them to return the box when finished.
When Zong Chi returned, he coldly said from behind her, “If you gave it to him, let him wash the box. Don’t count me in.”
He Dongli replied with a drawn-out “Mm,” as if repeating herself, “Lin Jiaoyu, after you’re done, wash the box and return it to him.”
Then she asked for his name.
Lin Jiaoyu grumbled that she didn’t even know his name, but still introduced himself.
He Dongli asked, “Which ‘Yu’?”
“Yu, as in Zhou Yu,” Lin Jiaoyu shamelessly replied.
Zong Chi, the troublesome friend, added, “The ‘Yu’ from ‘Why was Zhuge Liang born after Zhou Yu.’”
He Dongli didn’t say anything more and returned to the girls’ group.
That day’s field trip was full of incidents.
The weather forecast had said clear skies, but a sudden rainstorm caught everyone off guard, forcing the group to take shelter in the mountains.
A student from the neighboring class, horsing around, accidentally fell into a rocky hollow, tearing their knee open to the bone.
Luckily, a military doctor visiting her hometown for Qingming happened by, cleaned and bandaged the wound, and got the student to the hospital in time.
Meanwhile, in Tianwen (1) Class, a fight broke out at this critical moment.
He Dongli had just returned to the group when a classmate told her someone was looking for her.
Before she could get up, two striking students appeared before her.
She recognized the girl—it was Xu Xilin from the competitive rowing class.
The boy introduced himself as Xu Xilin’s older brother, a student at Yizhong Senior High School.
Xu Xize was also on the mountain for the field trip.
Tall and long-legged, he sat right down on the girls’ picnic mat from the Affiliated School.
Xu Xilin stood by, clearly annoyed at her brother’s easygoing manner.
Xu Xize ignored her, sitting cross-legged, shooed away the other girls, and said he wanted to talk to He Dongli alone.
He asked the younger girls if it was okay.
Under the green sandalwood tree, petals falling in the rain, clouds drifting lightly—whatever Xu Xize said to He Dongli, she didn’t move for a long time, her face turning from red to pale.
When Xu Xize finally stood up, he pointed at He Dongli’s lunchbox and said, “What a coincidence, we had the same food today. No wonder—Aunt Lu made so much last night, but Linlin and I only got a little bit.”
Xu Xilin, not as good-natured as her brother, had long heard about He Dongli and couldn’t stand that it was thanks to her own father that this country bumpkin could attend the same school as her and her brother.
As she left, she hooked her foot under the lunchbox and flipped it over.
The whole thing spilled onto the back of He Dongli’s hand.
Lin Jiaoyu came over to return the lunchbox as promised and immediately exploded, “Who the hell raised you? Wearing shoes on someone’s mat is already out of line, now you’re kicking things around—are you a dog? No hands?”
Xu Xize immediately shielded his sister, but Lin Jiaoyu tossed the box aside and pulled He Dongli up.
She had lost all her earlier energy and openness, just staring blankly, barely breathing.
Xu Xize tried to leave, but Lin Jiaoyu wouldn’t let him.
In the scuffle, the (1) Class suddenly united, causing a commotion that caught Zong Chi’s attention.
When Zong Chi arrived, he found He Dongli silent and dazed.
As she was about to speak, Zong Chi cut her off, telling the troublemakers to clean the mat.
“If you don’t have hands, then lick it clean.”
Zong Chi’s words were harsh, and Lin Jiaoyu egged him on, “So this is what kind of people Yizhong produces? Unbelievable.”