Please, I'm Trying to Study, Your Highness! - chapter 8

I maintained my ‘dumb’ posture, ‘foolishly’ staring in the direction where Xia Shiyu had left.

Only when that graceful, elegant figure disappeared into the distance did Monkey and Wang Lei finally snap out of their petrified state.

“I… Damn! Brother Hui!” Wang Lei’s chubby face was twisted with excitement.

“Xia-Xia Shiyu… She actually took the initiative to talk to us!”

“And-and she said we could chat again next time! My god! Could it be that our excellent character, hidden beneath our plain exteriors, has finally been discovered?”

“Come on, she’s probably here for Xiao Huihui.”

Monkey was the sensible one. “If you hadn’t driven Li Yaowen away during the break, a School Belle of that level probably wouldn’t have spoken a few words to us before graduation.”

That may be true, but it didn’t stop him from taking a deep, storm-like inhalation.

His nose deeply sniffed the lingering scent of the Saintess in the air after she left.

“So fragrant…”

He muttered in a blissful trance, and noticing me still playing the role of the ‘Wife-Watching Stone,’ he jabbed me twice with his elbow, frustrated by my lack of initiative.

“Enough, what are you still looking at? She’s long gone. Why didn’t you seize the moment just now? Who knows, maybe you’ll get a chance to taste the beauty of Miss Xia in the future.”

Hearing this, I coughed lightly.

My tone still carried a hint of shy, lingering fear.

“No, it’s nothing… We just said a few words… I’ll head back to the classroom first…”

Leaving those words behind, I hurried away, my steps frantic and awkward.

Wang Lei and Monkey watched my ‘panicked escape,’ exchanging glances.

The two of them simultaneously revealed a lewd smile that only men who understand would share.

—

…My figure was finally swallowed up by the shadow of the teaching building, out of everyone’s sight.

Turning the corner in the corridor, I confirmed that no eyes were on me anymore.

My hurried steps slowed, returning to their usual rhythm.

My hunched back straightened, relaxing a little more with each step.

The burning flush on my cheeks cooled rapidly.

I raised my hand to remove my black-rimmed glasses, pulling a cleaning cloth from my pocket to wipe them.

That was close.

I almost got caught.

Acting is fucking exhausting…

To achieve the most realistic effect, I micro-controlled my body, modified by Unyielding.

I forcibly dilated my capillaries and sped up my heartbeat to simulate physiological reactions.

The effect was enough to fool even the most precise lie detector.

As for the price…

The energy consumption of this series of operations was no less than experiencing a weakened version of ‘Reward Takeoff.’

A familiar sense of emptiness echoed from the depths of my soul.

But it was all worth it.

A timid, shy, inarticulate,

introverted otaku who gets so nervous in front of a goddess that he can’t string words together.

This label is safe, harmless, and utterly uninteresting.

It will definitely help me avoid unnecessary trouble and whirlpools.

Perfect.

Good thing my skills are a cut above.

Having resolved the crisis brought by the Green Tea Bitch School Belle, I put my freshly cleaned glasses back on.

My top priority now was to return immediately to that sanctuary built from books and exercises.

Let my brain immerse itself in the cold logic of formulas and theorems, recharging this overused battery with a bit of ‘power.’

The back door of the classroom was just ahead.

I could already picture myself returning to my seat, spreading out that half-finished math test, and continuing my battle in the world of solid geometry.

Before I could touch the cold doorknob, a strange sound leaked intermittently through the crack in the door.

That was…

Two different frequencies of heavy breathing.

My outstretched hand froze in midair, “?”

Seriously?

The infirmary, the grove, the equipment room… Now even the classroom, where all the classmates are about to return, has become a part of the play?

You people in this local novel world really have no manners.

“Mm… Don’t… Don’t do that…”

The poorly soundproofed door continued to transmit voices.

The tone was deliberately suppressed to the extreme.

The so-called ‘don’t’ was less a refusal and more aptly described as a coy invitation.
“…Someone, someone will find out… ah♥”

Why is there even an emoji?

My face is expressionless.

The principles of energy conservation and risk avoidance are triggered simultaneously, reaching an unprecedented consensus.

Curiosity? Doesn’t exist.

My curiosity, along with my energy, was drained dry on countless cursed and tormented nights.

Anger? None either.

I’ve long lost the strength to be angry at the absurdity of this world.

In my mind, there is only one clear and cold thought:

Leave this place.

No hesitation, not a trace of indecision.

I step forward, retracing my path toward the bright sunlight at the end of the corridor.

The library is too far, and the study room must be packed right now.

The only option left is that place.

The rooftop of the teaching building.

Cool and spacious, and most importantly, quiet.

I hope the last pure land isn’t occupied by any “hardworking” wild lovebirds.

The iron door leading to the rooftop isn’t locked, just ajar.

I reach out and push it open. An autumn breeze, mixed with the city’s hustle and the rooftop’s unique freshness, rushes over me.

The rooftop floor is coated with a layer of gray-green waterproof paint,

weathered and mottled from years of sun and rain.

A few stubborn clumps of moss peek out from the cracks, surrounded by waist-high concrete railings.

In the corner, discarded desks and chairs are piled up, covered in a thick layer of dust.

No noise, and no couples who enjoy outdoor wrestling.

Not bad.

I take out my English vocabulary booklet and walk to the shaded corner, ready to sit against the wall and enjoy a moment of peace.

But as I inadvertently glance at the huge water tank on the other side of the rooftop, my gaze freezes.

In the shadow over there, there’s a girl.

She is turned slightly away from me, quietly leaning against the cold wall of the water tank, holding what looks like a foreign-language original in her hands.

She’s wearing the same school uniform shirt.

But the fabric and tailoring are clearly much more refined than my ordinary version.

The lines of her top fit her slender waist perfectly, worn impeccably, with every button fastened neatly at the collar.

Her smooth black hair is untouched by dye or perm, like fine silk.

I can’t see her whole face, only catch a glimpse of her gentle profile and her translucent, milky-white skin in the sunlight.

She is completely immersed in her book, sitting with elegant posture.

As if she isn’t on a dust-laden rooftop, but seated on a rosewood chair in some classical library.

She looks familiar-probably another heiress.

To avoid unnecessary trouble, I prepare to quietly retreat to the stairwell and leave this space to her.

The girl seems to sense something, her fingers pausing on the book.

She lifts her head and looks in my direction.

Our gazes meet unexpectedly.

This time, I see her face.

Her features aren’t as dazzlingly aggressive as Xia Shiyu’s.

Instead, they’re like a softly brushed classical ink painting, every detail just right.

Her brows are dark without makeup, her lips red without tint.

Her almond-shaped eyes, clear black and white, hold no seduction or curiosity, only gentle tranquility.

Shen Ruanruan.

Class One’s class president, another School Belle as famous as Xia Shiyu.

Born into a prestigious family, gentle in temperament, outstanding in character and academics.

She’s also been my classmate for over two years since I transferred to this city in junior high.

The moment I recognize her, a faint ripple of surprise appears on her otherwise calm surface.

The girl closes her book, fingers tucked between the pages, and turns slightly to face me.

“Excuse me… are you Lin Hui?”

Her voice is polite and gentle, a little uncertain.

“We were classmates in Class Four in junior high. Do you still remember?”

She doesn’t smile, but her innate elegance and upbringing are woven into her bones, without a trace of affectation.

I hold the vocabulary booklet in one hand. Though I don’t feel the same wariness and wild danger as when facing Xia Shiyu, still…

Two familiar words silently surface in the base code of my mind.

Trouble.

Why are the heiresses who usually never chat suddenly triggering NPC dialogue options today?

What’s going on?

What day is it? Saintess Festival?

One after another, they’re all coming to raid the Goblin’s den?