I Fell In Love With My Rival (GL) - Chapter 4

After the birthday party, Lu Fang’s relationship with them didn’t improve. His appearance that night felt like a fleeting illusion—gone before Su Chunyin could hold on to it.

With Li Zihan no longer a reliable source of information, Su Chunyin’s understanding of Fu Erqiu remained superficial. She kept replaying what Song Rao had tried to tell her that evening. What had she meant?

Was she about to say that Lu Fang hadn’t intended to come to the party, but only showed up because Fu Erqiu was there?

Su Chunyin had planned to ask Song Rao the next day, but Song Rao had gone overboard partying and even sneaked a beer. By morning, she’d completely forgotten the small matter, leaving Su Chunyin to stew over it alone.

Progress had stalled, but time marched on. Summer at No. 1 High School continued its rhythm—lush greenery, the drone of cicadas, and endless, dull classes. Life moved between school, the cafeteria, amusement parks, and bubble tea shops.

Xu Chang had grown another two centimeters, Yang Yuxia’s track team started intensive training, Lu Fang had gone with teachers to City A for an Olympiad math camp, and Su Zhi, at long last remembering her daughter’s New Year’s gift money had been locked in a fixed deposit, generously handed her a five-digit allowance.

With money finally in hand, the happiest were Xu Chang and Yang Yuxia. They eagerly planned where to go, even drafting a full itinerary, only to be met with Su Chunyin’s flat rejection.

Xu Chang wailed on the spot, “Come on, princess, weren’t Weihai and Lingnan places you said you really wanted to visit?”

Su Chunyin answered with perfect logic, “I don’t feel like going anymore.”

But when asked where she did want to go, she didn’t really know. Before, she’d simply followed Lu Fang’s lead. Now that she was gone and Song Rao was busy with school, even with money in hand and summer vacation approaching, she had no real desire to spend it.

When Xu Chang and Yang Yuxia asked about her plans, Su Chunyin listlessly replied, “We’ll see.”

After parting ways with them, she went to her usual bubble tea shop. The girl behind the counter greeted her with a sweet smile. “Same as always? No pearls, no sugar—70% milk, 30% tea?”

Su Chunyin nodded and went to her usual seat. Though she sometimes indulged in sweet drinks to lift her mood, most of the time she was well aware of the calorie trap. Her usual choice was just milk and tea. This shop used fresh ingredients, and she was a regular. Every staff member knew her well.

Her drink arrived quickly. She sipped absentmindedly, still thinking about how to spend her money. If she wasn’t going on a trip, her biggest expenses usually went toward buying meteorites for her collection. But none of the websites she followed had new pieces in stock, and the one she truly wanted was still out of reach.

The shop sat by the back gate of the school. It was after school now, and the sound of noisy students trickled in as they left in groups.

Su Chunyin listened without much interest:

“The math homework today is way too much!”

Fair enough. That is tragic.

“I passed by Class 3 during PE yesterday and saw…”

Saw what? Don’t stop there!

“Ugh, how do I get that senior to hang out with me? I’ve invited him so many times, but he keeps saying he needs to study.”

Best of luck, girl.

“Open your bag! Hand over the cash!”

“Sob… I don’t have money. There’s no cash in here, please don’t…”

Wait—what? That last one didn’t sound right.

Su Chunyin straightened in her seat. This was the back gate of No. 1 High, and someone was trying to mug a student?

She set down her drink and followed the noise.

The commotion was just around the corner from the bubble tea shop, down a narrow path. Although many students passed through the back gate, few took this side route. When she stepped into the alley, she saw a few scruffy boys in tank tops cornering a petite girl with freckles, forcing her to hand over her bag.

Su Chunyin frowned and walked up. “What are you doing?”

The freckled girl turned to her in a silent plea for help. The boys looked hostile. “Hey! This doesn’t concern you!”

“You’re not students here, are you?” Su Chunyin said calmly. “Your faces aren’t familiar. How much do you want? I’ll give it to you.”

She pulled out her phone and showed them the emergency dial screen.

“Take the money and get lost. Or I’ll call the police.”

The boys exchanged looks. Their leader hesitated. “Two hundred?”

Su Chunyin pulled out two hundred yuan from behind her phone case and tossed it to the ground. “Now scram.”

Surprisingly, they did.

After her dramatic rescue, Su Chunyin turned to leave, but the girl behind her called out, “Thank you! What’s your name?”

She considered saying something cool like in the movies—“No need to thank me. Just call me a good person.”—but it felt too cringe. Instead, she replied honestly, “Su Chunyin. And don’t thank me. This is just what a student from No. 1 High should do.”

The girl’s eyes lit up. “I knew it! You’re from No. 1 High!”

Under the freckled girl’s enthusiastic storytelling, Su Chunyin quickly learned the whole story.

Apparently, a game called Galaxy OL had become very popular among students. The girl was a devoted player and had started an online relationship with a guy who said he was from No. 1 High. He’d recently gone to another city for Olympiad math training. Curious and excited, she had come hoping to catch a glimpse of his school—only to be targeted by thugs on her way from the city center.

Olympiad training? Something flickered in Su Chunyin’s mind.

“So… you’ve never actually met this guy in real life?” she asked.

The girl lowered her head shyly. Her freckles shimmered under the sun. “I’m too plain… I don’t dare meet him.”

She had learned from their chats that the boy was smart, well-liked, and popular. Compared to her, she felt painfully ordinary—both in looks and grades.

“He’s asked to meet several times, but I always said no. This time I only came because he’s out of town.”

She clutched her bag tightly and opened it to show Su Chunyin. “This is the scarf I’m knitting for him. When it gets cooler, I’ll give it to him.”

It was an unfinished pink scarf—uneven stitches, coarse needles—but clearly made with care.

At the girl’s insistence, they added each other on WeChat. She then planned to sneak into the school for a look, and Su Chunyin pointed her in the right direction before they parted ways.

Later that evening at home, Su Chunyin received a flurry of messages. The freckled girl had sent photos of everything—from clouds at sunset: “Wow! You can see the whole sky here!” to the school’s willow trees:

“This tree’s massive! No wonder this school’s a century old!”

The campus she had long grown bored of looked almost magical through this stranger’s lens.

Su Chunyin replied with a brief “Mm.” The girl didn’t seem to notice her perfunctory tone and kept chattering.

Locking her phone, Su Chunyin turned to her computer and launched Galaxy OL. The girl’s words had sparked an idea. She logged into the game’s player forum and finally decided how to spend her money.

Two minutes later, a new thread appeared on the forum’s homepage:

“Offering big money for a Tree Hollow listener. Requirements: high school student, good listener, knows how to comfort others, experienced in dealing with emotional issues…”

She left her Tencent ID and soon received a flood of notifications. But most applicants were either too old, didn’t take her seriously, or were only interested in getting more money. Frustrated, Su Chunyin blocked the rest.

That night, one of the few not blacklisted sent her a message:

“Hey, your requirements are each easy on their own. But together? Kind of a tall order. Think about it: you’re asking for a high schooler who’s emotionally mature, empathetic, and experienced in helping others.

You’re a high schooler—are your classmates like that? Can you even meet your own criteria?”

Su Chunyin didn’t want to admit it, but someone she knew did meet all those criteria. Her fingers hovered over the keyboard, but she couldn’t bring herself to type “Lu Fang.”

The other person, seeing her stuck on “The other party is typing…”, messaged again:

“Actually, I do know someone who fits the bill. She’s never done this before, though. Don’t know if you’d be okay with that.”

Su Chunyin: “.”

Taking it as agreement, the person sent over a WeChat ID.

“She doesn’t use Tencent much. Here’s her WeChat.”

Su Chunyin hesitated, searched the ID, and clicked the profile. It showed a clear, yellow leaf. She stared at it, trying to place the plant. It looked oddly familiar. On impulse, she clicked Add Friend.

The request was quickly accepted. A message popped up: “?”

Before she could explain, it was withdrawn and replaced with:

“I know. Hello, little boss.”

Staring at those three words—little boss—Su Chunyin felt a strange, inexplicable emotion rise in her chest.