Chapter 19: Relationship

Ji Pei pushed the wheelchair, Bai Yin trailing behind, arms full of a thick stack of books.

She was puzzled. Jiang Xihan never brought textbooks or materials before, so why did she ask for them today?

Maybe because Ji Pei said she’d sit in on the class, Jiang Xihan worried she wouldn’t follow, so she brought the books.

Bai Yin felt delighted, thinking Jiang Xihan was so responsible and thoughtful. She hadn’t misjudged her—she’d stick with her forever!

Jiang Xihan wasn’t overthinking. She just wanted Ji Pei to push her wheelchair.

Sometimes, having an overly dutiful assistant was a hassle, cutting into her alone time with Ji Pei.

The lecture hall was on the third floor. Ji Pei had taken classes there before, so she knew the way.

Before entering the elevator, Ji Pei couldn’t resist leaning close to Jiang Xihan’s ear, whispering softly.

“Professor Jiang, please don’t call on me later. I know nothing.”

Jiang Xihan’s lips curved.

“You answered so well last time. What a shame if you don’t show off now.”

Ji Pei bit her lower lip, her face nearly crumpling.

“That’s because I happened to flip to that page.”

“Morning, Professor Jiang.”

“Professor Jiang.”

Students greeted Jiang Xihan, their eyes flashing with shock, whispering as they turned away.

“Why’s Professor Jiang in a wheelchair?”

“Did she break her leg?”

“Is she a vegetable now?”

“…”

Rumors spiraled out of control. Jiang Xihan’s “heroic teacher spirit”—breaking her leg in a car accident yet still teaching in a wheelchair—spread across the school’s confession wall, sparking heated discussions.

Ji Pei, graduated for over a year, hadn’t left the school’s confession wall group, checking it daily for laughs.

She’d screenshot funny posts and send them to Ye Wenzhu, and they’d roast them together.

They mostly mocked Xie Zhen, who often led her clique to ostracize Ye Wenzhu.

But Ye Wenzhu never doubted herself, eating and drinking well through school. After graduating, she opened a flower shop with her savings, living carefree as her own boss.

Half a minute until class, Ji Pei pushed Jiang Xihan out of the third-floor elevator.

The silent wheels glided on the floor. As they neared the classroom, Ji Pei grew nervous.

She wanted to hand the wheelchair to Bai Yin, but Bai Yin was weighed down with books.

If she did that, what would Jiang Xihan think? Would she feel Ji Pei was shirking or unwilling to push her?

It was just pushing a wheelchair, not human trafficking. Why was she so nervous? It’s not like she’d go to jail.

With that, Ji Pei exhaled, but Jiang Xihan noticed.

“Why the sigh?”

Ji Pei: “…”

She heard that?

“Nothing, I was just marveling… Professor Jiang, you’re really…”

The classroom door opened. Seeing the packed room, Ji Pei’s words stopped dead.

Jiang Xihan’s lips curved. “What about me?”

“So charismatic.”

From the moment Ji Pei wheeled her in, countless eyes locked onto them, giving her goosebumps.

Ji Pei scanned the room, bending slightly, whispering, “Professor Jiang, no seats left. Maybe I should…”

Jiang Xihan didn’t answer her, turning to Bai Yin instead.

“Bai Yin, lock the door from inside.”

Ji Pei: “…”

She never thought attending a class could feel like being strong-armed.

Now she was stuck.

Ji Pei positioned Jiang Xihan at the podium, about to head back, but was stopped.

Jiang Xihan stared at Ji Pei’s tall figure, expressionless.

“There’s a seat up front. Where are you going?”

Bai Yin had turned on the podium’s microphone, broadcasting Jiang Xihan’s words across the room.

Ji Pei felt the curious stares multiply, wishing she could crawl into a mouse hole.

Bai Yin placed a small stool by the front-row desk, smiling.

“Ji Pei, sit quick. Professor Jiang’s about to start.”

Ji Pei tried to minimize her presence, sitting obediently, but unluckily, her spot was the focal point of the room’s gazes.

She should’ve worn a hat and mask.

Jiang Xihan glanced at her approvingly, opened her PPT, and began teaching.

Ji Pei squirmed, the stares from behind prickling her back. She turned to the student beside her.

“Hi, could you all scoot over a bit?”

The girl, staring at Ji Pei since she entered, stammered when spoken to.

“S-sure.”

Jiang Xihan’s sharp eyes caught the girl scooting over, her ears red under her hair. She coughed lightly.

“No whispering in my class.”

Ji Pei knew Jiang Xihan meant her. She clamped her lips shut, scooting inward.

She had no book, no notebook for notes.

Ji Pei considered using her phone’s memo app but, remembering this was Jiang Xihan’s class, put it back in her bag.

Seeing everyone else taking notes, Ji Pei felt out of place. When Jiang Xihan wasn’t looking, she leaned to the girl beside her.

“Hey, can I borrow a sheet of paper and a pen?”

The blonde girl nodded, reaching for her pencil case, about to tear off a sheet.

But Jiang Xihan suddenly pulled out her green notebook and a black pen, placing them in front of Ji Pei.

“Listen carefully.”

Ji Pei: “…”

She smiled awkwardly at the girl.

“Thanks, I’ve got some now.”

Bai Yin, watching, admired Jiang Xihan more, thrilled to have such a great idol, ready to work for her for free.

Whispers started behind Ji Pei, clear as day.

“Who’s that girl? Professor Jiang’s relative?”

“No idea. Professor Jiang seems to pay her special attention. Maybe her sister?”

“Could be. They kinda look alike.”

Ji Pei checked her watch. Over an hour until class ended. She had to stay calm.

She studied Jiang Xihan’s notebook, green with Arabic writing on the cover, looking well-worn.

Opening it, the first page was blank, no name.

But the notebook was heavily used, half-filled with Jiang Xihan’s dense notes.

The text, besides Chinese, was in English.

Ji Pei read silently, realizing it was excerpts from Western philosophy history.

Jiang Xihan’s handwriting looked delicate at first, but closer inspection revealed its strength, beautiful with a scholarly flair.

Her Chinese was elegant, her foreign script just as neat, like it was printed.

Ji Pei flipped through, forgetting to take notes. Seeing Jiang Xihan’s glance, she thought it was a reminder.

She grabbed the pen, copying carefully, realizing her own writing was rusty, so she mimicked Jiang Xihan’s style stroke by stroke.

After half a page, Ji Pei smiled, pleased, then impulsively flipped to the first page.

She meant to write Jiang Xihan’s name but started with “Ji” instead.

After writing her own name, Ji Pei grinned smugly, thinking Jiang Xihan would love her neat handwriting.

“…”

Ji Pei’s pen froze, staring at the two characters.

This… was Jiang Xihan’s notebook.

She stole a quick glance at Jiang Xihan on the podium, guiltily lowering her head.

Busted.

She’d been caught making mischief.