Please, I'm Trying to Study, Your Highness! - chapter 39

My gaze swept over the floor, dyed a warm orange by the setting sun.

Internally, I weighed my options.

Leaving would be the most energy-efficient choice.

But then I thought about how I had just joined the math club not long ago, and now I was witnessing the group leader cleaning up alone while I turned a blind eye.

That didn’t align with how an “easygoing, ordinary” student should behave when faced with group responsibilities.

Besides, helping to clean was low-effort physical labor.

It wouldn’t have any real impact on my study schedule.

Calculation complete, I no longer hesitated.

I took a broom from the locker and started sweeping from the other end of the classroom.

Shen Ruanruan heard the noise and turned around, a faint, gentle smile tugging at her lips.

She didn’t say anything like “thank you.”

She just nodded at me, then lowered her head and continued focusing on her own work.

There was no further conversation between us, only the soft swish of brooms against the floor and the occasional sound of trash being swept into the dustpan.

We worked seamlessly, each responsible for our own area, without any awkward silence.

Soon, this territory once occupied by formulas and calculations was restored to its original tidy state.

Outside the window, the sunset had completely sunk below the horizon.

I tied up the garbage bag and placed it by the door.

Shen Ruanruan walked over to the podium.

There, a thick stack of workbooks was piled up, nearly half as tall as a person.

She tried to pick up the stack.

The height of the books completely covered her face, leaving only a small tuft of smooth, jet-black hair visible.

Her arms trembled slightly under the weight, and her steps were unsteady.

The stack of workbooks wobbled in her arms, and a few from the top slid off, scattering across the floor.

Carrying something so heavy was clearly beyond her limit.

My brain didn’t need to analyze further-my body had already reacted in the way that best fit my “character setting” for this situation.

I stepped forward and bent down to pick up the scattered workbooks.

Then, without a word, I took more than half the weight from the top of the teetering “tower.”

The girl was slightly out of breath, her face reappearing from behind the books.

The sudden lightening of her load made her sigh in relief, fine beads of sweat dampening a few strands of hair at her temple.

Her almond-shaped eyes, tinged with a hint of brown, curved into a gentle, grateful smile when she saw me.

“Where to?”

“To… the old storage room on the west side of the teaching building.”

Shen Ruanruan steadied her breathing, tucked the damp strands of hair behind her ear with unhurried, graceful movements. “Follow me.”

“These workbooks are finished, right?” I asked. “Shouldn’t they be thrown away?”

“They can’t be thrown away,” she explained softly.

“They contain the thought processes of every member of our group for past competition problems, with many different solution approaches.”

“For new first-year students joining the group in the future, this is more valuable reference material than any answer key.”

“It’s a kind of… inheritance, I suppose.”

Our footsteps echoed in the corridor as Shen Ruanruan spoke, a hint of hesitation in her voice.

“I hope what we leave behind can help more math-loving juniors in the future.”

Saintess is Saintess-she really does think things through more thoroughly than the rest of us ordinary people.

“That’s pretty great,” I commented sincerely, not adding anything further.

The room for storing these workbooks was at the end of the third-floor corridor.

The thick iron door looked heavy and old.

Shen Ruanruan took out a ring of keys and skillfully found the right one.

She inserted it into the lock, turned it, and pushed hard.

The room was small, with no windows, and the air was a bit stuffy.

Only the light seeping through the door crack barely illuminated a small area.
Several rows of bookshelves stood against the wall, packed tightly with all kinds of test papers and exercise books.

“Just put them on that empty shelf over there.”

Shen Ruanruan pointed at the metal rack in the corner, still more than half empty.

I held the stack of exercise books and sorted them by subject and year before placing them neatly on the shelf.

When I finished and was about to leave, I saw Shen Ruanruan standing at the door, giving a slightly puzzled, “Huh?”

“The door… seems to be stuck.”

“Let me try.” I stepped up and gestured for Shen Ruanruan to move aside.

I gripped the metal doorknob and pulled outward-no movement at all.

Then I pushed inward. Still nothing.

Looking closely at the gap and the keyhole, I realized the latch was probably jammed in the slot, either from years of disrepair or because we had closed the door too hard just now.

A classic mechanical failure.

I took out my phone, planning to contact the homeroom teacher or a repairman.

But in the upper left corner of the screen, where the signal bars should be, there was a glaring “×”.

No signal.

I walked around the small, windowless storage room a few times.

The signal icon never changed.

“It’s no use.”

Shen Ruanruan tried her best to remain calm as she spoke.

“This… is the school’s old archive room, close to the core area of the building’s load-bearing wall. The signal is always blocked here.”

“Some students have mentioned it before, saying they can’t contact anyone outside when they’re in here looking for materials… The school just hasn’t gotten around to fixing it…”

Her explanation made sense; many old buildings really do have dead zones for signal in certain areas.

But I could sense something wrong in her tone.

Her breathing was growing fast and shallow, each breath less steady than the last.

She was clearly not doing well.

Just as I was about to ask, “What’s wrong?”, something warm and heavy suddenly leaned against my back.

It was Shen Ruanruan.

Her forehead rested against my shoulder blades, her voice now faint and fragile.

“S-sorry… Lin…”

Her words broke off, as if she was trying hard to hold back some emotion.

“I… I have claustrophobia. This room has no windows… and now the door won’t open… I…”

As she spoke, her body started to tremble uncontrollably, and the weight leaning on my back grew heavier.

“Let me lean on you for a while… just a little while, please…”

She was no longer the gentle, flawless “Saintess” Shen Ruanruan.

She was just a fragile girl, overwhelmed by fear and seeking comfort.

A dark little room, an unexpected accident, a boy and a girl trapped alone together-all the elements were here.

Why was this turning more and more into one of those melodramatic, clichéd scenes from a teenage romance manga?

So melodramatic.

Seriously, how does this even make sense?

I complained to myself inwardly, almost wanting to laugh.

But my brain’s crisis center was already flashing red.

With the strength I now had as a Goblin Hero, I could easily force this stuck iron door open.

But the problem was, I couldn’t do that.

In front of someone as meticulous and observant as the “Saintess” Shen Ruanruan, any behavior out of the ordinary would be immediately noticed and analyzed.

In the end, I’d definitely end up in her “abnormal” files.

No matter how seamless my excuses afterwards-like, “the lock was old anyway,” or, “I just happened to find the right angle”-none of it would really erase her suspicion.

Revealing my unusual abilities just to get out of what seemed like a simple predicament? That would be a foolish trade, with the risk far outweighing the gain.

So, how should I break the deadlock?