Chapter 23 Class Monitor, Let’s Chat for a Bit

Chapter 23: Class President, Let’s Chat for Five Cents’ Worth

Cai Ji stood with his head lowered, holding a plastic bag containing takeout containers.

From another street corner came a young man with dyed blond hair, a cigarette clenched between his teeth. He walked up to Cai Ji, gave him a disdainful glance, and rudely grabbed the plastic bag from his hand.

The blond-haired guy spoke while waving his cigarette near Cai Ji, nearly burning his cheek several times. Jiang Ruotang watched, his heart racing.

Damn it! What the hell? Cigarette butts were hundreds of degrees—getting burned wouldn’t just hurt, it’ll scar!

Jiang Ruotang clenched his fists, about to step forward, only to remember he was too weak to stand properly today.

No problem. He still had his human Siberian Husky.

Jiang Ruotang called toward the shop door, “Zhao Zhangfeng, come out for a sec—”

“What? I’m in the middle of ordering!”

“Come out.”

Hearing the urgency in Jiang Ruotang’s tone, Zhao Zhangfeng thought Grandpa Jiang might have fallen. He rushed out and followed Jiang Ruotang’s gaze to see Cai Ji across the street, head still bowed, backing away as the blond guy deliberately flicked cigarette ash onto his shoulder. Zhao Zhangfeng saw red.

Just as he was about to shout, Jiang Ruotang yanked his sleeve.

Punks like this—reckless and unpredictable—could do anything.

Zhao Zhangfeng still had a basketball career ahead of him. He couldn’t afford even a minor injury.

Jiang Ruotang forced a big smile and called out, “Cai Ji—how much longer are you gonna chat? We’ve been waiting ages!”

Hearing his voice, Cai Ji turned, his wide eyes filled first with surprise, then visible relief.

The blond guy sneered something and raised his hand as if to smack Cai Ji’s head. Zhao Zhangfeng frowned and shouted, “Cai Ji! We’re waiting in line—hurry up!”

Perhaps sensing Zhao Zhangfeng’s imposing presence—his nearly 1.9-meter frame was no joke—the blond guy changed his gesture at the last second to a pat on Cai Ji’s head.

Cai Ji, like he’d been pardoned, finally crossed the street and stood before Jiang Ruotang.

Without a word, Jiang Ruotang threw an arm around Zhao Zhangfeng’s shoulder and the other around Cai Ji, saying casually, “Guys, do me a favor and help me inside.”

Once inside, Jiang Ruotang didn’t bring up what had just happened. He stuck to the original plan and ordered the beef with scrambled eggs over rice, then called out for an eel rice.

Zhao Zhangfeng sighed. “You really never stop with the eel rice, huh?”

“It’s for Cai Cai,” Jiang Ruotang said.

Zhao Zhangfeng, surprisingly, didn’t argue this time.

Cai Ji, however, quickly shook his head. “No, no! I… I don’t need—”

For a student, eel rice was an expensive meal. Only someone like Jiang Ruotang, whose allowance was practically burning a hole in his pocket, could order it as casually as a one-yuan lollipop.

“Thanks for helping me upstairs this morning. And sorry in advance for needing your help again later. I refuse to be carried up by Zhao Zhangfeng.” Jiang Ruotang made puppy-dog eyes.

“You really don’t have to—”

Zhao Zhangfeng snorted. “If he’s treating you, just eat it.”

“Why is it fine when Cai Cai eats eel rice, but you give me so much grief?” Jiang Ruotang grumbled.

“Cai Cai’s all skin and bones—he could use the nutrients. If *you* grow a belly, you’ll lose your charm.”

Their bickering eased Cai Ji’s discomfort.

Once the takeout was ready, Cai Ji naturally took both plastic bags. Zhao Zhangfeng effortlessly manhandled Jiang Ruotang—literally. With one arm, he lifted Jiang Ruotang until his feet dangled. Jiang Ruotang felt like nothing more than an overstuffed duffel bag to him.

The walk back took about ten minutes. Jiang Ruotang figured it was a good chance to chat with classmates his age.

Many things that seemed obvious to Jiang Ruotang—like the rise of chain bubble tea brands or domestic sportswear—were still in their infancy now. Talking with them helped him spot opportunities he might have overlooked.

For example, when the conversation turned to video games, Cai Ji lit up. He went on about everything from overseas titles to popular office mini-games in China, like a walking video game wiki.

When they reached the school building, the stair challenge returned. Zhao Zhangfeng grinned like a troublemaker. Jiang Ruotang barely had time to think *Oh no* before Zhao Zhangfeng threw him over his shoulder and bounded up the steps.

“Zhao Zhangfeng—I swear I’ll throw up on your back!”

That got Zhao to behave immediately. He set him down at the second-floor landing. Cai Ji, following behind, laughed, his curls bouncing. Jiang Ruotang couldn’t understand how anyone could mistreat someone so gentle.

“Cai Cai, if someone’s bullying you, you should report it. If you’re scared to, you can tell us,” Jiang Ruotang said.

Cai Ji paused, then lowered his head again. Instead of giving a perfunctory nod, he whispered, “That person… is family.”

“Family shouldn’t hurt you either,” Zhao Zhangfeng added.

Cai Ji kept his head down. Jiang Ruotang knew every family had its struggles. He didn’t push Cai Ji to resist—everyone had their own choices to make.

At the classroom door, Jiang Ruotang told Cai Ji, “Eat well,” before returning to his seat.

Cai Ji took a bite of the eel rice—rich and tender. Jiang Ruotang’s words, *Eat well*, lingered in his ears, making him feel like crying.

Behind him, Zhao Zhangfeng tore into his protein-packed lunch. Jiang Ruotang, starving, devoured his beef bowl so fast he almost choked.

A bottle of Yakult appeared beside his left hand, set down by pale fingers.

Jiang Ruotang blinked. It wasn’t Lin Lu’s hand—Lin Lu was still face-down on his desk.

Turning, he realized Bai Yingchuan had leaned across Lin Lu to give it to him. Jiang Ruotang was surprised.

“Th… thanks.”

“No problem,” Bai Yingchuan said with a smile.

It almost felt like they were friends.

As for Lin Lu, he’d actually woken up when Jiang Ruotang sat down. The fact that Jiang Ruotang had picked Zhao instead of him for the bank trip stung. He’d been faking sleep to avoid acknowledging Jiang Ruotang.

But he never expected Bai Yingchuan to reach past him and initiate contact with Jiang Ruotang. Lin Lu felt a pang, as if something precious had been stolen right from under him by Jiang Ruotang.

After eating, Jiang Ruotang stood to throw away his trash. Bai Yingchuan spoke up, “I’ll do it. Just sit.”

Jiang Ruotang shook his head. “My muscles are aching from lactic acid. If I don’t move, it’ll just build up.”

With that, he grabbed the plastic bag and shuffled to the garbage can at the end of the hall. After making a show of dumping it in, he ambled back. Passing the restroom, he ran into Lu Guifan, who’d just finished washing his lunchbox.

“Class President! Class President!” Jiang Ruotang hollered.

Lu Guifan turned, drying his lunchbox, and asked dryly, “Need help back to class?”

“No, no. Can we chat for a bit?”

Ah, what's this "nickel's worth of talk" about? Such internet slang—Jiang Ruotang hoped Lu Guifan wouldn't misunderstand him...

To his surprise, Lu Guifan slowly walked to the corridor railing, lunchbox dangling from one hand, and leaned back against it. Sunlight pooled on his shoulders, making him seem much more approachable.

He spoke unhurriedly, "What is it?"

Jiang Ruotang took a deep breath and carefully mentioned Cai Ji's situation.

"He said that blond guy is family, but I'm worried. Even if family can't be a source of support, they shouldn't be a dark cloud hanging over him. Too bad I'm only a classmate—everything depends on Cai Ji's own stance. Still, I think the teachers should know about this. If something really happens, they won't be blindsided."

Lu Guifan was the most trusted by the teachers. If he spoke up for Cai Ji, they might take the matter seriously.

"Alright, I understand. Anything else?"

"N-no... nothing else..."

Jiang Ruotang didn’t mention how much he liked the way Lu Guifan listened—never quick to offer opinions, yet those simple words, "I understand," somehow made him feel safe.

Lu Guifan extended his hand toward Jiang Ruotang.

"Huh?"

"Five cents."

Only then did Jiang Ruotang remember his earlier remark. He had no idea how to explain that it was just a viral catchphrase from a Spring Festival comedy sketch.

"If you don’t have it, I’m leaving."

Just as Lu Guifan turned to go, Jiang Ruotang actually dug out a coin from his pants pocket—must've been left over from getting game tokens.

"I have it! Here, take it!" He handed the coin to Lu Guifan.

Lu Guifan let a small smile slip, and Jiang Ruotang realized he was joking too.

Wait—no, the real shock was that he even knew how to joke?

"No refunds. Next time."

As he moved past Jiang Ruotang, the latter blurted out, "Then I’ll schedule another nickel's worth—"

Lu Guifan turned his head slightly, his poker face back in place, leaving Jiang Ruotang unable to guess his mood.

"...Not allowed?"

Jiang Ruotang felt a pang of disappointment, his face clearly falling.

He’d assumed that because Lu Guifan ran with his joke, it meant they’d crossed into friend territory.

"Depends when."

With that, Lu Guifan took the coin.

Jiang Ruotang let out a relieved breath when, as Lu Guifan passed the classroom window, he spotted his reflection smiling in the glass.

That smile—Jiang Ruotang would happily watch on repeat.

The week flew by, and soon it was the weekend.

On Friday evening after evening study hall, Lin Lu and Jiang Ruotang headed to the school gates together.

Lin Lu broke the silence: "Ruo Tang, you're really not coming to Bai Yingchuan’s welcome party on Sunday?"

"No, I've got to hit the art studio."