◎Accomplice Psychology◎
Chun Zao was choked up by his question.
Her face then grew slightly warm.
She admitted that under her mother’s watchful eye, she absolutely wouldn’t dare or even think to knock on Yuan Ye’s door to borrow internet.
But situations like last night weren’t the first time, the need still existed, and now someone was willing to help – it was hard not to harbor a glimmer of hope.
Before parting with Yuan Ye, Chun Zao stopped hesitating and agreed to his proposal.
The boy didn’t show obvious triumph or mockery, only replied “I’ll find a chance to give it to you this weekend” before riding away.
Arriving at school, just thinking about this transaction made Chun Zao’s heart race as if she’d just run a hundred meters. Secret excitement and nervousness enveloped her, and she could only transfer these emotions by scratching her ears, chatting with her deskmate, or deliberate reading.
Perhaps this was what accomplice psychology felt like?
After history class, the PE class representative organized the classes to line up for exercises. Students poured out from the classroom door like chocolate beans spilling from an opened bottle.
In an instant, the corridor was crowded with people. The girls’ playful laughter and chatter abruptly stopped with the arrival of their homeroom teacher.
Homeroom teacher Chen Yuru crossed her arms, face cold, “escorting” the two lines of students to the playground.
Today was still very sunny.
The clear sky was washed blue, and only when passing the flower beds could they enjoy a fleeting moment of tree shade.
Light spots danced across the boys’ and girls’ uniforms and the tops of their heads.
Class Three’s formation stopped, turned around and stood at attention. Chun Zao was positioned in the middle section.
Under the blazing sun, she frowned, tucked the annoying loose strands behind her ears, and used her hand as a visor, blocking her forehead to resist the overly rampant ultraviolet rays.
Tong Yue was almost the same height as her, and coincidentally arranged in the same row.
She cherished her complexion like her life. After observing their homeroom teacher, she pulled out a small bottle of sunscreen spray from her pocket, tilted her head down, and sprayed furiously at her face and arms.
Nearby girls tactically dodged, as did Chun Zao.
Tong Yue complained: “Why are you dodging? SPF 50 – getting any on you is pure profit.”
Girls behind them covered their mouths and giggled secretly; some even moved closer, asking her to spray more.
Tong Yue complied, continuing her sprinkler truck behavior.
Their homeroom teacher at the front of the formation shot them a deadly glare, and several girls immediately fell silent like cicadas.
They stayed quiet for less than two seconds before becoming restless again.
The whispered conversations contained the words “Yuan Ye.”
Tong Yue never knew what psychological burden meant, immediately standing on tiptoes and craning her neck, scanning to locate the target.
When a lead sheep appeared in the formation, the rest immediately showed herd mentality. Chun Zao also looked up.
Class One was passing by their left side.
Due to his height, Yuan Ye’s position was relatively toward the back, but everyone could always spot him first.
The boy stood out from the crowd, blindingly white under the sunlight.
Whether intentionally or not, when the two classes intersected, he glanced in Chun Zao’s direction.
Their eyes met, and Chun Zao immediately turned her face away, pretending not to see.
Her heart began performing high-frequency jumping movements.
What was she panicking about?
Chun Zao couldn’t understand herself. Was it because this eye contact was too much like a spy meeting? So she subconsciously acted secretly?
Her eyes weren’t looking anymore, but her ears were more focused than when doing listening comprehension in English exams.
Ten seconds later, Chun Zao decisively gave up. The clear voice was discussing games that sounded like hieroglyphics to her – something about “butterfly knives” and “spray paint.” Chun Zao scratched her temple in confusion.
After the flag-raising ceremony, the morning exercise music began, and a whole playground of blue and white marionettes started moving – some of good quality, some needing to go back to the factory for remanufacturing.
Chun Zao belonged to the middle tier – no obvious mistakes, but somewhat perfunctory. She wasn’t very interested in physical activities, often letting her body move while her brain went blank, silently reciting government agency functions or historical event timelines.
During the torso rotation exercise, Chun Zao caught sight of that superior back of the head.
Yuan Ye had thick black hair and an especially well-formed skull. If there were a class on human anatomy analysis, his brain X-ray would probably be hung on the whiteboard as the optimal example of a “round head.”
Small head, small face, long arms and legs, and very smart and independent.
A genetic lottery winner, a showoff work by Nuwa.
Chun Zao looked away with a sense of imbalance.
—
Over the next week, Chun Zao felt that Yuan Ye in her eyes had become somewhat different.
Although their daily lives hadn’t changed and their level of interaction could only be called “casual acquaintance,” invisible tensions in the air had already wound around like spider silk. Occasional eye contact or encounters would quickly form webs – not necessarily visible to the naked eye, and completely silent, but you knew it was expanding.
This discovery was confirmed on Wednesday before bed. Chun Zao put away her earphone cord and was about to turn off her phone when, possessed by some impulse, she clicked into the wireless network settings.
Chun Zao’s breathing hitched.