I Redeemed Him, But Who Will Redeem Me? - Chapter 5

Lin Xicai tossed the soda bottle in her hand into the trash can, when a girl behind her clicked her tongue and said,
“But it’s really weird lately. He’s already been coming to school for four days straight!”

“For real,” another girl sighed in agreement. “What’s so attractive about school all of a sudden? Why’s he coming every day? It feels like prison for everyone else, the whole class is suffocating.”

Lin Xicai was a little absentminded. “What, he didn’t usually come to school before?”

“Yeah, he was never this diligent,” the girl grumbled. “No idea what’s up these days, why he’s suddenly so enthusiastic about classes…”

Lin Xicai spread her hands, looking lifeless.
“Be grateful. You only share a class with him. I share a desk.”

“Oh. That’s true.”

Lin Xicai: “…”

Stepping on the bell, Lin Xicai returned to the classroom. Careful footsteps, shallow breaths, she quietly sat in her seat.

It was supposed to be English class, but the teacher never showed. The homeroom teacher came instead, saying the English teacher had something urgent, so it would be a self-study period.

As soon as the news was announced, everyone’s eyes lit up. But because of a certain well-known reason, that excitement had to remain silent. The whole room was as quiet as a chicken coop. Lin Xicai pulled her English textbook from the desk shelf.

“Adventure… a-d-v-e-n-t-u-r-e, a-d-v-e-n-t-u-r-e, a-d-v-e-n-t-u-r-e…”

She silently recited words, unable to read aloud, mouthing the letters in her mind one by one.

As she memorized words with full concentration, the air pressure beside her grew heavier and heavier.

Suddenly, she felt the person next to her turn his head, eyes locking directly on her face.

“…”

“Is this maniac staring at me?”

“I can’t take this. Is this studying or serving a prison sentence? Even in prison, you’re allowed to talk, right?”

“Addicted to — addicted, a-d-d-i-c-t-e-d, a-d-d-i-c-t-e-d, a-d-d-i-c-t-e-d… Why is he still staring at me? Don’t tell me he can’t even stand the sound of flipping pages? Go home, kid, go home where it’s quiet… addicted to…”

“Package — packaging, p-a-c-k-a-g-e, p-a-c-k-a-g-e, p-a-c-k-a-g-e… Ugh, does the world revolve around you? Should I hire you a nanny?”

Xie Shi’s eyes bored into her, dark and unfathomable. His sharp, handsome face was pale, veins of restraint and pain beneath the surface.

Every noise was like a thousand tendrils clawing at his nerves, burrowing pain into his skull, each echo dragging his volatile emotions closer to the edge. It was a sensation both familiar and strange — one he hadn’t felt in a long time.

The intensity of his gaze made Lin Xicai instinctively tense. Lowering her head, she thought, He can’t even stand the sound of turning pages?

She sighed and deliberately slowed down, fingers pinching the edge of the page, turning it as gently as possible — like pressing at 0.1x speed, determined not to make a sound.

From Xie Shi’s perspective, she looked like a small, obedient figure curled up quietly, meekly enduring.

He shut his eyes briefly, leaning against the desk behind him as though suppressing something dangerous.

Half a lesson later, Lin Xicai set her English aside and pulled out a physics textbook she had brought from home. If she couldn’t understand electromagnetism, maybe acceleration would be easier.

After all, the only time she had studied properly was at the very start of high school. Her very first physics class had been about motion and acceleration.

This world’s curriculum wasn’t identical to her own, but the knowledge was the same. Stroking the familiar cover, she opened to Unit One and felt a strange intimacy when she saw the words “acceleration.”

She flipped through, then began memorizing formulas.

“S = v0t + 1/2at², S = v0t + 1/2at²… v0-t+1/2-a-t²… 1/2-a-t²…”

Xie Shi’s temple throbbed twice, his fragile calm unraveling again. Agitation rose — but more than that, bafflement.

Who on earth… studies formulas like that?

Who spells them out like English vocabulary?

The thought that such a ridiculous fool had once been sent to “conquer” him lit a dark, inexplicable fury in him. His lips twisted with a dangerous curve.

The whisper of her recitations stabbed at his nerves, lancing through his skull. His pale face seemed more like that of a poisoned beast, radiating a dangerous, unhinged air.

Lin Xicai could feel the feral weight of his stare pressing into her, as if his gaze carried claws ready to rip into her throat.

One second.

Two seconds.

Three…

The danger closed in.

She stiffened as he leaned toward her. Then a pale, slender hand reached out.

“Pen,” he said.

Lin Xicai froze — this was the first word he had ever spoken to her.

His voice was unexpectedly pleasant: cold, low, a little hoarse, as if unused to speaking.

Meeting those storm-dark eyes, she blanked for a moment. Did he just say… pen?

She quickly rummaged past her colorful pens and handed him a cheap mechanical pencil.

His face was still clouded with shadow as he snatched the pen, tore a piece of scrap paper, and scrawled rapidly across it.

When he slapped the densely written sheet onto her desk, the gust of air stirred her bangs. She followed the graceful line of his hand to the paper — covered in detailed derivations of the exact formulas she’d been butchering.

The handwriting was harsh, powerful, every stroke brimming with restrained violence.

She stared from the first line to the last, and to her shock, the formulas she had failed to memorize even after dozens of repetitions suddenly clicked in her mind.

She realized he must have seen her textbook and guessed what she was studying.

But… why help her?

A chill ran through her. She pulled out a little pink mirror from her drawer, opened it, and studied her reflection.

Ponytail, dimples, fair skin with a rosy flush, watery eyes framed with soft lashes — a delicate, pitiful little face, like a fragile white flower.

Lin Xicai frowned deeper. Glancing warily at him, she thought darkly:
Don’t fall for me. It won’t end well.

Crack—

The pencil in his hand snapped.

At last, as if unable to endure, he shot her a venomous look, stood abruptly, and stormed out like a violent gust, slamming the door behind him.

The classroom buzzed to life the instant he left.

“That was—”

“Him! He’s gone, finally!”

“Finally, we can breathe again. I thought I’d suffocate.”

“About time, I was losing my mind.”

“Who pissed him off this time?”

…

Propping her chin on her hand, Lin Xicai was baffled.

Seriously, what was with this guy?

One moment glaring like he wanted to eat her alive, the next writing formulas to help her. Was he against her, or… into her?

She peeked at the paper again, a flicker of regret in her chest.

What if I hadn’t played around and just seriously followed the strategy? Wouldn’t I have conquered him already?

After all, who writes an entire page of formulas for someone they’ve never even spoken to? How could she not overthink it?

As she stared blankly at the page, two boys suddenly leaned over from behind.

Startled, she nearly dropped the paper. “What are you doing?!”

“How did you do it?” one of them asked, wide-eyed. “He actually paid attention to you?”

“He borrowed a pen from me,” Lin Xicai said.

“And then wrote you a whole page of formulas?” the boy gawked, shocked and oddly jealous. “How’d you pull that off?”

Lin Xicai spread her hands — she was more clueless than anyone.

Later that afternoon, after lunch outside school and a detour to the flower-and-bird market, she returned with a small cactus in her arms.

Humming cheerfully, she pushed open the classroom door — and froze. Sitting at her desk was none other than her mentally unstable deskmate.

She blinked, confused. He had stormed out in a rage earlier, so why was he here again? And earlier than her?

Her good mood soured. With a sigh, she quietly set the cactus on her desk.

Xie Shi’s gaze fell on the little cactus. Thinking it was just some tacky decoration for her flamboyant desk, his eyes flickered with disdain.

But when class began, he realized — it wasn’t.

During biology, then Chinese, whenever she grew drowsy and nearly collapsed, she would jab her finger on the cactus spines. The sting snapped her awake for a few minutes.

And then, when she got sleepy again — jab again.

On and on, endlessly.

Xie Shi stared at her in silence, watching this bizarre ritual with an unreadable expression. Despite his splitting headache, he couldn’t look away.

Lin Xicai’s head grew foggy, the Chinese teacher’s words a deadly lullaby. Her only lifeline was the cactus.

In the past, scholars hung their heads from beams or stabbed their thighs to stay awake. Now there’s me, Lin Xicai, pricking myself with a cactus. Isn’t this just as inspiring?

She almost cried from the strength of her own willpower.

“You there, the girl with the cactus!”

A roar from the podium jolted her awake. Dazed, she looked up — straight into the furious eyes of the Chinese teacher.

“You! Stand up! Is a cactus really that fun? You’ve been playing with it the entire class. I’ve been watching you this whole time, and you still won’t stop. No self-control at all!”

Playing?

She thought I was playing?!

Lin Xicai was stunned. More wronged than Dou E herself.

“Teacher, I wasn’t—”

“Wasn’t what? Enough. Bring your parents to school tomorrow morning. Eight o’clock sharp, my office.”

What? Parents?!

Lin Xicai practically threw her hands in the air. “Teacher—!”

But the teacher didn’t even look back, storming out in indignation.

Collapsed in her seat, Lin Xicai nearly wept.

Xie Shi, however, watched her intently, as though peering past the delicate face into a clumsy, foolish soul.

Name: Lin Xicai.

Attribute: Fool.

Hobby: Pretending to study.

Top of the grade? Ha.

Feeling thoroughly miserable, Lin Xicai turned her head and locked eyes with that all-too-familiar, scathing stare.

What had she ever done to deserve this?

She was about to snap back when he beat her to it, speaking to her for the second time:

“Does anyone study like that?”

The words were blunt, cold, laced with mockery — but also, strangely, with a hint of frustrated disappointment.