Chapter 15 Close Stranger

Chapter 15 Close Stranger (Known Stranger)

Bai Yingchuan rested his chin on his hand as he stared out the window. He found Lin Lu quite amusing—always portraying Jiang Ruotang as some ravenous wolf who’d pounce at the sight of him, painting Jiang Ruotang as an overbearing, obsessive fan.

But in reality, Jiang Ruotang had no such thoughts about him and, in fact, knew his boundaries.

When he got home, Bai Yingchuan found Jiang Ruotang’s contact in the class group chat and sent him a friend request.

It wasn’t until past eleven at night that his request was accepted.

Bai Yingchuan: [Thanks for sending Xiao Gao to watch the movie with me.]

Jiang Ruotang: [Smile.GIF I had a class at the studio and couldn’t make it, but Xiao Gao wanted to watch it anyway, so I had him go. He’s got experience handling unexpected situations—he could protect you.]

Polite—nothing more.

Bai Yingchuan clicked into Jiang Ruotang’s social feed. He had shared a song called *Close Stranger*, its melody slow and its lyrics evocative. Aside from that, there were some of Jiang Ruotang’s sketches and watercolor paintings, but all of them were from before Bai Yingchuan transferred to Beicheng Guangyao Middle School.

There was a kitten in a shop window, wearing a cute little bell, squinting while scratching an itch with its front paw—adorable.

There were sparrows lined up on a telephone wire, fluffy little things.

Dew-covered morning glories, their faces turned sunward like children.

Bai Yingchuan didn’t know if Jiang Ruotang’s art was skilled, but it gave him a cozy vibe.

The only watercolor painting was of a sailboat at sea, starlight scattered across the horizon, its weathered sails billowing as if the soul itself were drifting over the waves, returning with the sea breeze.

But as he scrolled to the end, Bai Yingchuan found no paintings featuring himself.

The next morning, Jiang Ruotang and Lin Lu ran into each other at the foot of the school building and chatted as they walked upstairs.

“How’d the movie with Yingchuan go yesterday?” Lin Lu poked Jiang Ruotang’s arm.

“Huh? I didn’t go,” Jiang Ruotang tilted his head. “Wait, Yingchuan didn’t tell you?”

Lin Lu froze. “You didn’t go? Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I replied with ‘I’ll play it by ear,’ didn’t I?”

Lin Lu thought that if Jiang Ruotang hadn’t gone and Bai Yingchuan hadn’t mentioned anything all night, maybe Bai Yingchuan hadn’t even watched the movie.

“I sent Xiao Gao instead. He watched it and then drove Bai Yingchuan home afterward.”

Jiang Ruotang’s words left Lin Lu stunned. “You could’ve told me you weren’t going! How could you send Xiao Gao?”

“Why not? Didn’t you say you had a family thing and couldn’t make it? And that the tickets were too pricey to skip…?” Jiang Ruotang looked genuinely confused.

“But you can’t just let Yingchuan watch a movie with a driver! How’s that look?”

What Lin Lu was really worried about was whether Xiao Gao might have said something unfavorable about him to Bai Yingchuan—and how he’d smooth that over.

Before Jiang Ruotang could respond, Bai Yingchuan’s voice came from behind them.

“Xiao Gao keeps to himself but looks out for people. Watching a movie with him was comfortable.”

Lin Lu stiffened, turning to see Bai Yingchuan with his hands in his pockets, lingering behind them. He had no idea how much of their conversation Bai Yingchuan had overheard.

“I just thought you might not be familiar with Xiao Gao and that it’d be awkward watching a movie together.”

Lin Lu was fast on his feet with excuses.

The corner of Bai Yingchuan’s lips curled into a cryptic smile.

Jiang Ruotang, unfazed, turned and continued upstairs. Bai Yingchuan tilted his head slightly, watching Jiang Ruotang’s receding figure.

Jiang Ruotang wasn’t a particularly tall guy, but his legs were long for his frame. With his school blazer buttoned up, his waist looked slender.

There was something about his back that inexplicably stirred an urge to protect, yet at the same time, his posture carried a quiet strength that inexplicably drew Bai Yingchuan’s gaze.

“Yingchuan?” Lin Lu’s voice snapped him out of it.

“Let’s go. Upstairs to class.”

At that moment, Bai Yingchuan’s mind flashed to Jiang Ruotang’s paintings. He wondered what Jiang Ruotang was like when he painted.

Once they entered the classroom and took their seats, Lin Lu leaned in close to Bai Yingchuan.

“Yingchuan, what’s that scent on you? It smells amazing!”

Bai Yingchuan’s gaze slid past Lin Lu, flickering toward Jiang Ruotang—but Jiang Ruotang was already absorbed in his practice test, tackling the last tough problems, completely uninterested in their conversation.

“*Forbidden Springwater*.”

It was the cologne Bai Yingchuan had worn yesterday, thinking he’d meet Jiang Ruotang. And this morning, on impulse, he’d applied a little more.

But neither yesterday nor today had Jiang Ruotang cared.

“*Forbidden Springwater*?” Lin Lu’s eyes lit up. “Isn’t that the exclusive release? It’s not even released domestically yet… Did the brand send it to your mom?”

“Mhm.” Bai Yingchuan was used to this kind of thing.

Though Beicheng Guangyao was just a middle school, many of its students came from well-off families.

Luxury bags, perfumes, skincare—these were all familiar topics among the students, let alone for someone like Lin Lu, whose father was the head of an entertainment company.

“I love the slogan for *Forbidden Springwater*—‘The world rots in coldness, but you alone are gentle as a spring.’”

From the back row, Geng Yu chimed in teasingly, “As expected of the movie star’s son—even your cologne’s next-level. Not like me, I can’t even tell the difference between perfumes and colognes. But my family’s laundry detergent is some imported brand from Country Y—my mom’s always going on about how ‘high-end’ it smells.”

“Oh, I know that brand! It’s got that warm amber scent. My mom wanted to buy it too, but apparently it’s sold out,” Geng Yu’s deskmate joined in. “My mom’s obsessed with F-brand perfumes now—wild camellia, valley orchids…”

Just like that, the students in front and behind Lin Lu dove into comparing their families’ perfumes and laundry detergents, as if staying quiet would make their lives seem less luxurious.

Bai Yingchuan didn’t join the conversation—he’d never cared much about these things. Whatever Bai Yue or his assistants brought him, he’d use if he liked it and regift it if he didn’t.

Jiang Ruotang stayed silent because topics like these held no meaning for him. And this atmosphere—everyone jockeying to one-up each other about how “high-end” their household scents were—struck him as petty.

When they grew up, they’d realize that whether a scent was “high-end” or not depended entirely on who was wearing it.

If you were someone of value, even a one-yuan sulfur soap would be seen as edgy and unique.

By then, Lu Guifan had already entered the classroom. He set down his bag and began collecting practice tests from the last row forward.

When he reached Geng Yu’s seat, Geng Yu sneered dismissively. In his eyes, someone like Lu Guifan—who had to study hard just to earn a scholarship—wasn’t even in the same social class.

“Oh, Prez, does your family even use scented candles? White Pine? Or maybe Magnolia Blast? Oh wait… you probably still use bar soap, right? Is that why your uniform’s all shrunk?”

At that, Jiang Ruotang’s brow furrowed. He really wanted to ask where Geng Yu’s superiority complex came from—was he dropped as a baby?

Probably to make Lu Guifan give up on collecting the papers, Geng Yu's deskmate also egged him on, "His family owns a rubber factory, so of course, it smells like rubber at home!"

A vein throbbed in Jiang Ruotang's forehead. At the start of the semester, the principal had emphasized during the morning assembly the need to curb the pursuit of luxury and comparison. In his previous life, Jiang Ruotang hadn't noticed it, but now, hearing these two morons yapping, he realized Lu Guifan's high school years had actually been filled with verbal abuse and ostracization from these people.

Lu Guifan's thick black-framed glasses were old-fashioned and heavy, masking all his emotions.

The school was a microcosm of society, and these so-called rich kids drew boundaries with him based on their so-called living standards. Lu Guifan couldn’t care less what they said—it didn’t affect him, except for their constant delays in handing in the papers.

"So, are you submitting the practice sheets or not?" Lu Guifan asked.

Geng Yu leaned back with a smirk, "Come and look for them yourself! If you find them, they're yours!"

"Either hand them in or say you won’t. Have you watched too many soap operas and now have nowhere to act out your entitled brat act?" Jiang Ruotang shot him a cold glare.

Geng Yu froze. If this had been last semester, Jiang Ruotang would have joined them in mocking Lu Guifan.

After all, coming to class early every morning was annoying enough, and running into Lu Guifan doggedly collecting homework usually made them take it out on him.

Not just Geng Yu, even Lin Lu was stunned. He tugged at Jiang Ruotang's sleeve, "Ruo Tang, why are you so harsh? Geng Yu was just joking."

"Only if others find it funny." Jiang Ruotang glanced at Lu Guifan and raised his right hand. "Class monitor, I’m stuck on the first math problem. Come teach me. I’ll hand it in once I finish."

Lu Guifan looked at Jiang Ruotang, as if assessing his sincerity. Jiang Ruotang's eyes were like polished amber—clear, bright, and so genuine they were impossible to refuse.

Two seconds later, Lu Guifan walked over and stopped by Jiang Ruotang's desk, taking the pen from him with one hand and scribbling the solution on scrap paper.

"This question tests the concept of the latus rectum of a parabola..."

Lu Guifan had initially thought Jiang Ruotang was just annoyed with Geng Yu and had called him over as an excuse. But when Jiang Ruotang tilted his head up to look at him, the questions he asked showed he was genuinely thinking.

At first, Lu Guifan leaned on the desk with one hand, his handwriting on the draft paper somewhat messy. But as Jiang Ruotang asked more questions, he gradually bent down, and the formulas and explanations he wrote became more structured.

He watched Jiang Ruotang neatly write down the answer—his time hadn’t been wasted.

Honestly, Lu Guifan didn’t care about whatever "Bai Yusong" or "Magnolia Storm" Geng Yu was talking about.

But when he lowered his head, he could catch the faint scent of mint and citrus mixed in Jiang Ruotang's hair—refreshing with a hint of sweetness.

When Jiang Ruotang was focused, his short, thick lashes lowered, and every slight flutter sent a flutter creeping into Lu Guifan’s chest through his gaze.