A Kiss for Life - Chapter 2

Every school has at least one or two campus heartthrobs.
He might be the athletic type—tall, handsome, exuding raw masculinity, able to ignite the hearts of countless girls with just a glance from the side. Or he might be the academic genius—calm, wise, effortlessly conquering the sea of exams, earning admiration to the point where people practically want to kneel before him and call him “master.”
At No. 11 High School, Shen Jinian was an anomaly among the top-ranked school heartthrobs.
Half the people were crazy about him. The other half despised him.
There was no middle ground.
He was too ostentatious—not in a pretentious way, but in a way that was deeply ingrained in his very being. His casual indifference and innate arrogance made him stand out effortlessly.
His academic performance was insane—consistently ranking first in his grade. But he wasn’t a nerd. On the contrary, he was extremely athletic.
During last semester’s basketball tournament, Shen Jinian played as a core team member, commanding the court with his presence. His aggressive, offense-heavy playstyle was dominant and unrelenting, yet he had the stamina and skill to back it up. Every move he made was a highlight. The cheerleaders in the stands screamed their throats raw, nearly flinging themselves onto the court in excitement, making the scene resemble some sort of cult gathering.
Yet, Shen Jinian remained emotionless throughout the entire game.
He wouldn’t show frustration when losing, nor excitement when winning. No clenched fists, no celebratory shouts—just a detached expression, as if he was merely a spectator.
Only when stepping off the court did he casually bump fists with his teammates.
Cold as hell.
And undeniably cool.
His coolness extended to his academics as well.
Discipline is a great virtue, but laziness is a universal human trait. Everyone slacks off sometimes.
But not Shen Jinian.
He was always clear-headed, stuck to a strict routine, and steadily advanced at his own pace. While everyone else followed the teacher’s lectures step by step, he had already internalized the material, so much so that he had spare time every day to read magazines and extracurricular books to expand his knowledge.
The academic director found this frustrating.
It was a waste, they thought, that someone like him had chosen the humanities track. When it was time to choose between humanities and sciences, the director repeatedly tried to persuade him to switch to science.
But the academic god only responded with a cold and final, “No.”
In some ways, his stubbornness was maddening.
Though indifferent, he wasn’t socially inept. He simply had no patience for small talk and wasn’t fond of interacting with girls. Rumor had it that he found them too delicate, or maybe he was just tired of receiving random notes and gifts from them.
However, he got along well with the guys.
Every day from 5:20 to 6:00 p.m., he had his fixed basketball time, and the boys would invite him to play on the court.
That was the rare moment when he showed any warmth.
Tough. Dominant. Detached.
He only paid attention to what interested him. Everything and everyone else was insignificant to him.
Even the class math rep had long accepted the fact that she collected his assignments daily, yet he still didn’t remember her name.
The reason he was class president wasn’t due to exceptional leadership skills or academic prowess.
It was simply because…
He was intimidating.
In a chaotic classroom, all he had to do was tap his fingers on the desk and say, “Class is starting,” and the entire room would fall silent instantly.
That kind of commanding presence?
Even the discipline officer couldn’t match it.
And so, the teacher gave him the title of class president—more like a mascot than an actual leader. He never did any work, but no one dared to challenge him.
Which is why, when their high-and-mighty, untouchable class president actually smiled at a short-tempered girl…
It was completely absurd and unfathomable.
Lin Yue glanced at Sheng Xia, then sneaked a peek at Shen Jinian, who had already returned to his usual cold expression.
In the end, she didn’t dare ask what their relationship was.
It was difficult for anyone to chat casually with Shen Jinian, even with a simple question.
He was used to standing above others, and people were used to looking up at him. There was an invisible barrier between him and those around him.
Lu Ye sat sprawled in his chair, lounging bonelessly like a pancake, watching Sheng Xia with great interest.
“Hey,” he called out. “You close with Shen Jinian?”
Sheng Xia was unpacking her books, stacking them neatly on her desk. Hearing this, she glanced at him.
Her eyes landed on a face that was three parts roguish, seven parts nonchalant—handsome, but exuding an air of mischief.
She hated guys like this.
Back at her old school, there was a group of idiots obsessed with Hong Kong action films, and she despised them.
So, without even trying to be polite, she shot him a glare and spat out four words:
“None of your business.”
Despite the unwarranted hostility, Lu Ye wasn’t offended. He merely chuckled, tilting his head as he watched her pack up her desk with great amusement.
He soon noticed she had a compulsive need for order—
Her books had to be stacked by size.
The pens in her holder had to be tip-down.
The items in her desk were meticulously arranged.
Even her snacks were lined up from smallest to largest.
Lu Ye: “…”
What a weirdo.
The rest of the class stared at her like she was some kind of zoo exhibit. Already in a bad mood, Sheng Xia felt even more irritated. She ruffled her hair in frustration and asked, “Does everyone in this class have nothing better to do?”
Lu Ye raised an eyebrow. “Not at all.”
Then, flashing a wicked grin, he leaned in, lowering his voice to a teasing murmur.
“The ones who do have better things to do are at the front. You, on the other hand, are surrounded by troublemakers.
Scared yet?”
Sheng Xia had a baby face and delicate features. No matter how fierce she tried to look, she lacked any real intimidation factor.
To Lu Ye, that only made her even more amusing.
The guy at the desk next to him snickered, “Boss, don’t go hitting on the new girl!”
Lu Ye didn’t even bat an eye.
Sheng Xia glanced at him, expression unreadable.
How boring.
At No. 11 High School, there were no special “elite” classes.
The principal, probably a hopeless idealist, insisted on equality—no discrimination, no student left behind, teamwork over competition.
So, students were assigned to classes at random.
That meant every class had top students as well as those hanging onto the bottom rung.
But equality in theory didn’t mean equality in practice.
Within each class, there were still unspoken social hierarchies:
The smart ones.
The rich ones.
The ones who knew how to have fun.
And the quiet ones who just followed the rules.
The best students always got front-row seats—the so-called “top student zone.” The back of the class, meanwhile, was paradise for the underachievers.
And Sheng Xia’s current seat?
Dead center of the second-to-last row—prime real estate for slackers.
And the seat next to her?
Belonged to Lu Ye—famous playboy, heir to a family corporation, leader of the school’s rich delinquents.
He never had a deskmate.
Not because he didn’t want one, but because of his terrible temper.
And because he had a notoriously possessive girlfriend, Wen Zhu, the school’s queen bee.
Anyone who sat next to him never had a good ending.
So, while everyone secretly pitied Sheng Xia, she just focused on arranging her desk with obsessive precision.
Completely unfazed.