A Young Woman's Heart

"Haha, maybe they're a couple," Mr. Xue laughed.

While everyone was chatting, on the rooftop, Ye Wen was also standing with her hands on her hips, questioning Qiu Yi.

"Tell me honestly, what did you do last night?"

"Cough... I went to an internet cafe to play games and ended up staying up all night."

"Is that so?" Ye Wen looked at him coldly. "You really didn't go to see other women?"

"I swear to God, absolutely not! If you don't believe me, go ask Ye Yu. I went with him!"

"Oh? Maybe you went to find women with him, and the two of you conspired together."

"Oh, really not. If you don't believe me, smell the instant noodle smell on me."

"Hmph, that might not be true. Maybe you deliberately ate some instant noodles to get the smell on you, trying to fool me?"

"Hey, hey, I really just went to an internet cafe!" Qiu Yi shouted helplessly. Suddenly, he saw Ye Wen's face break down and she couldn't help but chuckle. Although she only looked serious for a moment before she regained her composure, he had keenly noticed it.

"So, tell me, do you want to kneel on a washboard, or write a 100,000-word self-criticism?"

Qiu Yi blinked, ignoring Ye Wen's words, and suddenly reached out to put his arm around her waist. The latter exclaimed in surprise as he pulled her into his embrace.

Then, Qiu Yi boldly leaned down, and the two kissed.

Time ticked by in the silence, and the still-gray sky, shrouded in rain, provided them with perfect cover.

"Ugh!!!" Ye Wen suddenly punched Qiu Yi's shoulder hard, her face turning bright red.

But Qiu Yi refused to budge, as if they were having a contest to see who could hold their breath the longest.

"Ugh ugh ugh!!!" Ye Wen pounded harder, and seeing that the latter still wouldn't let go, she suddenly thrust her knee forward.

"Wow! What are you doing? Murdering your husband? Do you want to live as a widow?" Qiu Yi squeezed her legs together and took a step back.

"Cough, cough—" Ye Wen wiped her mouth forcefully, "Are you trying to suffocate me?!"

"It can't be that bad..."

"It's definitely been more than half a minute!" Ye Wen gasped for breath in the somewhat stuffy air of the rainy day, "Huff... huff..."

"Are you okay?"

"Hmph, get away!" Ye Wen shook off Qiu Yi's arm and punched him hard in the chest. "You bad guy!"

"Huh? Hey, don't go!"

Now it's Qiu Yi's turn to pursue Ye Wen.

Suddenly, the sound of footsteps echoed down the corridor.

And so another lively day began.

Mo Xueyao turned her head and saw Qiu Yi and Ye Wen chasing each other in the corridor. The two of them were being chased and chasing others, having a great time. They didn't seem to care at all about being seen by the students. They even ran into the classroom a few times and then ran out again.

"I always feel like the teachers are more energetic than us students..." Mo Xueyao mumbled listlessly.

……

Chapter 123 Springtime

Thursday's lunch break.

The sky outside the classroom was somewhat gloomy, with occasional flashes of thunder followed by a torrential downpour.

Even after the rain stops, the dark clouds don't disperse; they're just waiting for the next heavy rain to come.

Mo Xueyao moved a chair from the back of the classroom and stood on it, wobbling slightly.

This chair was basically used as a footrest for drawing blackboard bulletins.

She didn't go to the club today because, as the publicity committee member, also known as the entertainment committee member, she had other things to do.

The monthly blackboard bulletin board display was a routine task.

This month's painting should depict the feeling of spring.

According to her design, the writing section of this blackboard newspaper only occupied less than one-tenth of the space, and the rest was all drawings.

It is a painting of spring.

This time I'll use watercolor paints to paint, which will make the picture more beautiful, but it will also be more complicated to paint and easier to get my clothes dirty.

But to truly capture the vibrant beauty of spring, watercolor paints are the best choice.

She was wearing a disposable, semi-transparent raincoat that Li Wanyan had bought for her with class funds, to prevent watercolor paint from getting on her clothes—which is very difficult to wash off.

"Heave-ho—" She put on the hood of her disposable raincoat, dipped her brush in the paint she had already mixed, and began to color the already drawn line drawing.

Although it was raining, there weren't many people in the classroom, maybe only slightly more than on a sunny day.

After all, Yukong High School has a large indoor stadium, where you can play basketball, badminton, or table tennis.

Although the indoor stadium only has two basketball hoops, it's still usable. In addition, there are many separate rooms available for other smaller sports.

Rainy days like this are probably the perfect time to tell mysterious urban legends, so as soon as Wang Jiale finished eating, he ran to his club, and the members of the art club were also busy making more handicrafts in the club.

Hua Yinyin and Huang Yuxi, of course, took advantage of the gloomy weather to run to that small room in the corner to read terrible comics.

As a result, Mo Xueyao is now left to work alone.

She planned to paint a garden-like scene, inspired by her last visit to the orphanage.

All kinds of flowers are blooming, all kinds of birds are chirping on the branches, and in the azure sky, a golden sun shines its light on the earth, even the layers of light shining through are clearly drawn.

As always, she didn't draw any figures, because that's not what she's good at.

After the paint is finished, it has to be mixed again. Brushes that have been stained with other paints have to be washed in a bucket of water before they can be used again, otherwise they will become a complete mess.

Although I have several brushes, it's still not enough.

Before long, the once clean water in the red plastic bucket had turned into a large puddle of strange, multicolored liquid. If it were stirred further, it would probably turn into a coffee-like color.

I have to fetch water myself again.

Mo Xueyao sighed. If she had a choice, she really wouldn't want to be the publicity officer.

"Do you need any help?" Just then, a boy that Mo Xueyao didn't know very well walked up to her and asked.

"Hmm?" Mo Xueyao looked up and sized up the boy she didn't usually interact with.

His name was Yang Yankai. He was about half a head taller than her, probably around 1.7 meters. He was slightly chubby, but unlike Gao Yuan's round and plump figure, his chubby figure looked more solid.

Despite having an elegant name, he had a simple and honest appearance, with slightly dark and rough skin, like a child from the countryside who often did farm work.

"It's okay, I can manage on my own," Mo Xueyao refused. Avoiding troubling others—especially classmates she wasn't very familiar with—was her principle.

"Uh, it must be quite heavy, and I don't know how many times you'll have to lift it. Let me help you," Yang Yan said, lifting the bucket himself.

Mo Xueyao hesitated for a moment, feeling that refusing someone at this time would only hurt him, so she nodded and added, "Oh, remember to wash the bucket clean, otherwise it will get dirty again when you fill it with water."

"No problem," Yang Yankai readily agreed.

Mo Xueyao stared at his back for a long time, but couldn't figure out what was special about him. He was just an ordinary person with no special features.

"Hey, Yang Yankai, you're being so friendly out of the blue. What's up? Trying to win over our school beauty?" Liu Xiaowei said with a lewd grin as he chatted with someone while crossing his legs.

"No, no, I was just helping out." Yang Yankai shook his head somewhat nervously and quickly left the classroom.

In comparison, Liu Xiaowei, who spends his days telling lewd jokes, is more distinctive than him.

Of course, most of the girls in the class didn't like him because he was always talking nonsense, and his dandruff seemed to be impossible to wash off; every time he wiped it, a huge amount would come out.

The worst part is that he's not ashamed at all; on the contrary, he's proud of it and often uses his dandruff to harass other female classmates...

Mo Xueyao jumped off the chair, thinking about the next steps of coloring while mixing several new colors with a clean brush.

"We don't have enough white water, we need to be more careful with it," she muttered to herself. A short while later, Yang Yankai came in carrying a bucket of water.

"Where should I put it?" he asked.

"Just stay to the side, don't get too close to the chair, or you might accidentally fall and be in big trouble." Mo Xueyao pursed her lips and made a fairly humorous joke.

Yang Yan smiled politely: "Okay, just call me if you need anything."

"Ah, thanks."

"It's alright, we're all classmates," Yang Yan said, sitting down in a chair and starting to do the homework the teachers had assigned that morning.

It took Mo Xueyao about four or five buckets of water over the course of a whole noon before she finally finished the coloring part.

This efficiency is actually quite high. She remembers when she was in junior high school, it would take three or four girls a week to color the blackboard newspaper.

Of course, the main reason for the slow pace is that the girls were mostly dawdling, spending more time chatting and mixing colors than actually applying them.

"Phew, my hand is so sore." Mo Xueyao shook her right wrist and stretched. The free lunch break was over, the bell for the indoor lunch break rang, and the students returned to the classroom one after another.

"Hey, Zhou Mingzhong, don't touch the blackboard behind you!" Mo Xueyao, who was tidying up her tools, hurriedly shouted. This boy, who had just returned from outside the classroom, seemed to like walking close to the wall, and he had almost bumped into the blackboard behind him.

The paint isn't dry yet; if you touch it, it'll be a complete mess.

"So particular?" Zhou Mingzhong muttered impatiently, but still moved away from the blackboard.

Mo Xueyao kept watching all the boys in the back row take their seats. Only after making sure no one touched the blackboard did she breathe a sigh of relief, clean all the tools, and then return to her seat.

As for the only article to be written in the small section, I left it to Mo Xiaoxiao.

Her handwriting was delicate and elegant, much better than Mo Xueyao's.

Although Mo Xueyao's handwriting has become neater recently, it is still far inferior to hers.

She sat in her chair, casually flipping through the homework that had just been graded and handed back, and suddenly realized that her handwriting seemed to have changed quite a bit since the beginning of the school year.

It seems... the font size is getting bigger and bigger?

Within that uprightness, there seemed to be an added touch of masculine strength.

Although it wasn't much, I could clearly feel that my strength had increased.

But because the pen used is very fine, it also has a delicate feel—a font that makes it hard to tell the writer's gender.

Huang Yuxi returned to her seat mysteriously carrying a comic book, and only breathed a slight sigh of relief when she put it in the drawer.