Having been given a second chance at life, who would still want to pursue her?

Lin Qingxue watched as Chen Jianji gradually walked back to his newly moved seat.

There were no unnecessary movements throughout the entire process, not even a sound of footsteps.

Until he was about to turn around and sit down.

Lin Qingxue then looked away.

She picked up the bag in her hand and asked Liu Yun.

"I see you haven't eaten yet, would you like some zongzi?"

But as soon as Lin Qingxue asked the question, she tightened her grip on the bag.

I saw her looking at the insulated food container on her desk.

Liu Yun quickly smiled sheepishly.

"Qingxue, he...I...I have something to eat. I was so hungry that I forgot to share half with you first."

Lin Qingxue subtly put down the bag in her hand.

"It's okay, just eat more if you're hungry. I'm not hungry."

I saw her sit down at the table in front of me.

Liu Yun didn't know if she had seen the postcard being snatched away.

I wonder if she'll be angry.

Liu Yun cautiously peeked out and whispered.

"He just came over to bring me soup and saw that postcard."

"I...I told him it was for Li Wenyan, but it didn't say who wrote it, so he probably doesn't know."

She spoke very quickly, wanting to explain everything clearly in one breath, afraid that Lin Qingxue would be angry.

"Do you want to talk to him about it...?"

"Need not."

Before Liu Yun could finish speaking, Lin Qingxue interrupted her.

Then she turned her head, handed over a blank postcard, and said softly.

"I just bought one from the shop. Hurry up and rewrite it according to mine. Soon, it will be time for Ayan's classmates to arrive."

"Ayan can tell from my handwriting, so my encouragement to him is useless."

Liu Yun shrank back.

"Oh, you really want me to write it?"

"I..."

She hesitated for a moment, then cautiously glanced back at the figure slumped over the table.

The aroma of chicken soup wafted through my nose.

suddenly.

Lin Qingxue turned her body back a little and looked at her.

"You just promised me in the dorm."

"You said you didn't know what to write, so I wrote you a template."

"I bought the postcards again."

"Oh... I didn't say I wouldn't write it. I can still help with this little thing."

Liu Yun turned around, winked at Lin Qingxue, and offered her suggestion again.

"But don't you want to explain things to Brother Ji? He seemed pretty angry just now."

"Is he angry?"

Lin Qingxue paused slightly, but then realized that her question was unnecessary.

"Mmm, he grabbed me so hard just now, look, my wrist is all red."

Liu Yun quickly extended her hand.

Lin Qingxue's eyes were lowered, and it was unclear what she was thinking.

After a long pause, he slowly said, "There's no need for that. Just write it down and put it on Ayan's desk. No one will know it was you who wrote it."

"You promised me."

She reminded her again.

"Oh... okay."

Liu Yun shrank her neck and gave a muffled reply.

She was starting to regret agreeing to Lin Qingxue's request.

But she never expected Chen Jianji to come to the classroom so early!

Normally, nobody comes at this time, right? Don't they need to eat and wash up?!

Liu Yun felt depressed, inexplicably wronged, and angry. She took the postcard from Lin Qingxue's hand.

He then picked up the portion he had just hidden in his pocket and took it out again.

Lin Qingxue glanced at it, her eyes flickered slightly, and said softly.

"Don't crush mine, write it out and give it back to me."

She paused for a moment, then continued, "You've won awards for your Chinese essays. If you have other ideas, you can write according to your own ideas. You don't need to copy mine."

After saying that, Lin Qingxue looked away.

"Okay, I understand."

Liu Yun muttered something to herself.

But when she unfolded the letter...

The moment I saw those delicate handwriting...

She suddenly remembered what Lin Qingxue had just said.

Ah Yan can tell from my handwriting...

Liu Yun stared blankly for a moment.

Does that mean... Chan Kin-kei could tell too?!

"Holy crap!"

Liu Yun's eyes widened suddenly, and she sat up abruptly.

My back bumped against the desk of the student behind me.

It made a crisp "bang" sound.

"hiss...!"

Liu Yun gasped.

She endured the pain and secretly glanced back.

Chen Jianji was still lying on the desk, breathing evenly, and even snoring slightly.

Huh? Asleep?

"What's wrong?"

Lin Qingxue's voice rang out from the front.

Liu Yun didn't dare to look at her, and silently turned away, lowering her head.

"No...it's nothing."

"kindness."

The classroom was quiet, with only the overhead fan whirring.

Oh no, there's also Liu Yun, who was wiping her eyes while slurping up a mouthful of soup.

The multiple sounds of writing a letter were also present.

Waaah... Waaah...

What am I doing?

But this chicken soup is really delicious.

Waaah...

I'm not clean anymore...

Until the faint rustling sound of the pen tip rubbing against the paper stopped.

Liu Yun put down her pen.

He raised his arm and wiped away the tears from his eyes, tears he couldn't tell if they were from the chicken soup or from moral torment.

She folded the letter she had just written and put it in a new envelope.

Then he put away the original postcard.

"Qingxue".

Liu Yun nudged Lin Qingxue's back and spoke softly.

"I've finished writing it, here you go."

Lin Qingxue seemed to have just come to her senses. She turned to the side and took the well-preserved postcard.

"I'll sneak over to the next classroom and put it there now. It's the fifth seat in the first row when you enter. I've remembered it."

"Seriously, why write such a nice description of him in the letter? He's clearly nothing!"

...

Liu Yun muttered to herself.

He left the classroom slowly, his face heavy with resentment and a sullen expression.

As her figure disappeared through the doorway.

The classroom was now empty except for the two people standing one in front of the other.

The person behind me seemed to still be asleep.

The sound of even breathing could be heard almost inaudibly.

Lin Qingxue looked down at the postcard in her hand.

She looked up at the trash can not far away, her fingers clenching and unclenching.

This went on for an unknown amount of time.

Finally, a noise was heard at the door.

The students gradually returned to the classroom.

Lin Qingxue looked up, holding the postcard in her hand, and slowly stuffed it into her desk drawer.

......