Chapter 2: The Eldest Daughter of the Jiang Family
Gu Qinghuan and Yu Xin sat by the window, in the middle of the fourth column. Because Gu Qinghuan was a little nearsighted and not very tall, she chose a seat in the third row. Yu Xin sat right behind her.
More and more students trickled in, the empty seats filling up. Gu Qinghuan was just wondering how many students there would be in total when a shadow suddenly fell across her desk.
“Hey, I want to sit here. You go find another seat.”
A somewhat imperious female voice sounded. Gu Qinghuan looked up and saw a girl standing beside her desk.
She was slim, with her hair tied up in a high flower-bun, showing a smooth, fair forehead. Her skin was pale with a healthy flush, her round almond-shaped eyes shimmered, and there was a tiny beauty mark at the corner of her eye—altogether lively and cute.
It was just… the way she spoke wasn’t exactly friendly.
Gu Qinghuan stood up. The girl assumed she was giving up the seat, and a look of satisfaction just began to appear on her face—when Gu Qinghuan instead asked, “My name’s Gu Qinghuan. What’s yours?”
The girl blinked, then instinctively replied, “Jiang Chuchu.”
“Jiang Chuchu, here’s the thing.” Gu Qinghuan’s tone was firm. “I’m not sure if these seats are self-chosen or if the teacher will assign them. If you absolutely have to sit here, how about we wait until it’s settled before deciding?”
Yu Xin hunched her shoulders, glancing nervously between Gu Qinghuan and Jiang Chuchu, unsure what to do.
At some point, the classroom had gone quiet. The others were now watching.
“Whoa,” a boy whispered, “Who is that girl, Gu Qinghuan? She actually dares to talk to the Jiang family’s little princess like that!”
“Not sure,” his friend muttered, “but… she’s not wrong, though…”
Gu Qinghuan’s sharp ears caught their whispers.
The Jiang family’s little princess? What Jiang family? Some kind of nouveau riche jackpot winners? she thought blankly.
Jiang Chuchu, meanwhile, hadn’t heard them. After a moment’s thought, she decided Gu Qinghuan wasn’t entirely wrong. She tossed her schoolbag onto the desk in front of Gu Qinghuan, lifted her chin, and said, “Fine. We’ll wait for the teacher. You sit there for now—just don’t get the seat dirty!”
“Alright,” Gu Qinghuan replied, and sat back down.
Jiang Chuchu didn’t sit either. Spotting someone she knew, she strolled over to the first column to chat.
Yu Xin was still staring in shock. She poked Gu Qinghuan’s back and whispered, “Aren’t you afraid of her?”
“Why should I be?” Gu Qinghuan asked, puzzled. “It’s just a seat.”
“But… what if she hits you?” Yu Xin said worriedly.
Gu Qinghuan picked up her stainless steel water bottle. “Then I’ll hit her back with this.”
Yu Xin sucked in a breath. She’d thought Gu Qinghuan was gentle and considerate—who knew she was so ruthless!
Gu Qinghuan thought about it, then clarified, “I wouldn’t hit her head. Shoulder or arm would be easier, and with my strength, it wouldn’t cause serious injury.”
Yu Xin felt even more uneasy. She’s actually thought about where to hit so it won’t escalate too much!
Seeing that Yu Xin was genuinely startled, Gu Qinghuan laughed and waved it off. “Just kidding. Honestly, I don’t think she’s unreasonable. If she really wanted to throw a tantrum, she would have yanked me out of the seat already.”
Her voice was matter-of-fact. “She didn’t announce to everyone that this seat was hers. I think that’s why she chose to negotiate with me—though her tone could use some work.”
“As long as there’s room for discussion, then talking it through is fine. It’s not that I must have this seat, but I also don’t want to move just because someone told me to—it’d make me look like I’m easy to push around.”
Yu Xin nodded in vague understanding, then seemed to recall something, falling into thought.
Seeing her lost in her own mind, Gu Qinghuan didn’t interrupt. Instead, she spoke to the system in her head: [System, I’ve enrolled like you asked. What do I do next?]
The system was silent for a moment before replying: [Just follow your own judgment. I’ll give you tasks if necessary.]
That’s surprisingly laid-back, Gu Qinghuan thought. In the novels she’d read, systems were usually strict—if you didn’t complete a task, they’d punish you like some combination of slave driver and kidnapper.
But maybe this was better. Since she’d gotten into such a good school, she might as well enjoy her high school life. Not to mention, she planned to get into a good university in three years.
[Do you know Jiang Chuchu’s background?] she asked. In novels, systems knew everything—surely hers could too.
[I do,] it said, [but I think it’s better if you find out on your own.]
Oh. So it wasn’t urgent information—if anything, it seemed the system approved of her attitude toward Jiang Chuchu.
That thought put her at ease. A free-range system was nice—she didn’t want someone bossing her around all the time.
The warning bell rang. Students who had been chatting broke apart and returned to their seats.
Jiang Chuchu also sat down in front of Gu Qinghuan, slouching slightly. Her schoolbag remained closed, as if she didn’t consider this her official seat.
The first row in their column was still empty—maybe no one dared sit in front of the Jiang family’s eldest daughter.
Other teachers passed by the doorway on their way to the back classrooms. The students figured their own homeroom teacher would arrive soon and began to quiet down.
That was when a boy strode into the room.
He wore the school uniform top, but loose gray-green cargo pants below. His collar was unbuttoned, revealing a silver chain.
His hair was dyed a messy brown, fluffy and tousled, reminding Gu Qinghuan of a poodle.
The “poodle” swept the room with a glance, then walked straight to the desk in front of Jiang Chuchu, dropping into the seat with a careless air. His gray messenger bag slid into the desk’s cubby with a thud.
He was tall—Gu Qinghuan guessed about 1.8 meters. Luckily she was seated by the window and could see the blackboard at an angle; otherwise, his back and head would block her view.
Jiang Chuchu let out a sharp cry: “Qin Yue! Go sit somewhere else!”
The boy—apparently Qin Yue—turned and flashed a roguish grin. “Nope.”
Now that he was closer, Gu Qinghuan could see his face clearly and couldn’t help thinking Mingde had no shortage of handsome boys and pretty girls.
His hair was messy, but his features were delicate. Combined with his clear skin and slightly drooping puppy-like eyes, he looked both well-behaved and endearing.
Jiang Chuchu opened her mouth to argue again, but the homeroom teacher had already walked in. She could only shoot Qin Yue a fierce glare before reluctantly looking away.
