THIP Chapter 64

The boy’s hand was warm and strong, but he was careful not to grip too tightly or hurt her. Once they were a fair distance away from the classroom, Xi Yan stopped walking.

Noticing that the girl had stopped behind him, Mu Liuyin turned around—only to see Xi Yan standing motionless, her pale eyes fixed on their joined hands.

Still fuming from what had just happened, Mu Liuyin had completely forgotten to let go of her hand after pulling her away. Now, seeing her gaze fall on their clasped hands, he quickly released her.

“You—” Xi Yan started softly.

“You okay?” Mu Liuyin asked at the same time.

Silence fell between them for a few seconds.

What kind of question was that? After everything she’d just been through, how could she possibly be okay? Mu Liuyin stood awkwardly, a little annoyed with himself. His expression remained as indifferent as ever, but he regretted how he’d phrased it.

“I’m fine,” Xi Yan said quietly, lips pressed together. Her eyes held a trace of doubt and caution. “Why did you help me?”

After all, ever since she transferred to this high school, she hadn’t received even a shred of kindness. In a place where everyone seemed to despise her, how could anyone possibly treat her kindly without an ulterior motive?

Still, she couldn’t think of anything about herself that might be worth scheming for. Maybe… this was just another twisted game to torment her.

With that thought, even the flicker of doubt faded from her eyes, leaving only the lingering warmth of his hand against hers.

Mu Liuyin, true to his usual aloof demeanor, gave a cool expression and simply said, “Because I want to.”

No complicated reasons. Just because.

Cold and willful, through and through.

Xi Yan stared at the boy in front of her and fell silent.

Seeing her go quiet, Mu Liuyin felt a subtle pang in his chest. With a sigh in his heart, he said, “Come with me to the office.”

Xi Yan lowered her gaze and silently followed him.

Ten minutes later, Xi Yan walked out of the office looking dazed.

As soon as they had entered, Mu Liuyin had told the two homeroom teachers that he wanted Xi Yan transferred to another class.

Specifically, to his class.

In an environment like this, how could he rest easy without keeping her close?

At first, the teachers refused. But Mu Liuyin looked them straight in the eye and said, “During the first monthly exam, the school already cleared Xi Yan of cheating. That means she’s qualified to join Class A.”

“Besides,” he continued coolly, “over the past month, the school’s surveillance cameras must have recorded everything she’s been subjected to in that class.”

The teachers in the office were stunned. No one expected Ye Zhuoran—the famously aloof and academically focused top student—to speak up for someone else.

For a moment, the way all the teachers looked at Xi Yan changed.

They had seen her being bullied before, but most had chosen to ignore it. Many students at this school came from powerful families—getting involved wasn’t worth the trouble.

But now that Mu Liuyin had brought it up directly, the teachers no longer resisted and agreed to let Xi Yan switch classes.

She still didn’t know why Ye Zhuoran—of all people—would help her, or if this was just the beginning of a new kind of torment. But at the very least, he’d helped her escape the constant bullying.

Xi Yan’s eyelashes fluttered slightly. In a soft voice, she said, “Thank you.”

Mu Liuyin responded with a quiet, indifferent, “Mm.”

Then he led her back to her old classroom. By that time, her desk and books had already been packed up.

When she looked up, she saw that her desk was spotless—not a speck of dust—and her books were neatly stacked on top.

Xi Yan lowered her gaze. For the first time in over a month, her desk looked clean and orderly.

She walked over silently, packed her books into her backpack, and as she reached for the strap to lift it, a hand landed on it. A cool, calm voice said beside her, “I’ll carry it.”

She stared at the hand gripping the backpack strap, and before she could say a word, Mu Liuyin had already picked it up.

High school textbooks were heavy, and her backpack was no exception. Seeing her small, delicate frame, Mu Liuyin had simply decided to carry it for her.

Then, under the stunned, disbelieving eyes of every student in the class, he walked out with her.

And when they returned to his class together, the stares only intensified.

Especially when Xi Yan sat down at the seat next to Mu Liuyin’s—the one no one else had ever dared to take.

But the real shock came when Mu Liuyin placed the backpack on Xi Yan’s desk himself.

That meant… what? The icy academic god Ye Zhuoran had carried a backpack for an illegitimate daughter?!

Forget the girls who had crushes on him—even Xie Shaoke furrowed his brows.

He couldn’t understand why Ye Zhuoran would suddenly help Xi Yan.

Almost everyone in school knew that Xi Yan was the Xie family’s illegitimate daughter. Even if Ye Zhuoran never paid attention to anything outside of academics, there was no way he didn’t know.

Sensing Xie Shaoke’s cold and hateful gaze, Xi Yan’s hands hesitated for just a second as she was organizing her books. Then, as if nothing had happened, she calmly continued unpacking her books one by one and laying them neatly on the desk.

Just then, the bell rang. The Chinese teacher walked in right on time. Having already learned about Xi Yan’s transfer in the office, she wasn’t surprised to see her in class.

Mu Liuyin opened his Chinese textbook and flipped to the page the teacher was covering. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Xi Yan frowning in frustration—while her books had been packed neatly today, some of the pages torn earlier couldn’t be fixed.

He gently slid his book between their desks and shifted his chair slightly closer.

“Let’s share,” he said softly.

Xi Yan pressed her lips together and gave a small nod. Then, almost in a whisper, she said, “Thank you.”

For a moment, they sat a little closer than usual.

Mu Liuyin felt a trace of helplessness rise in his heart. It hadn’t even been a full day, and the girl had already thanked him three times.

He thought to himself: as long as she doesn’t misunderstand and think he has those kinds of feelings for her, that’s thanks enough.

Out of the corner of his eye, he glanced at her. Xi Yan was diligently taking notes.

The Chinese teacher looked at the two of them now and then from the podium, secretly baffled. Ye Zhuoran had always been cold and indifferent, never caring about anyone. So why was he suddenly so attentive to Xi Yan?

At this age, when a boy starts paying attention to a girl, it usually means he likes her. But with Ye Zhuoran’s usual aloof demeanor, it was hard to imagine what his “liking” someone would even look like.

In the end, the teacher chalked it up to the time Xi Yan had scored higher than him on an exam and taken first place in the entire grade.

Academics—maybe that was the only thing Ye Zhuoran cared about.