Chapter 10: Lime

Taking advantage of the lunch break, Lin Zhiyi made his way to the school backyard.

A gentle breeze swept through, carrying the faint scent of fresh grass; the school must have mowed the lawns that morning—he found the aroma quite pleasant.

From afar, he spotted a girl searching through a flower bed.

The instant she looked up, he recognized her as the short-haired girl who’d brushed past him in Old Ma’s office yesterday.

She rummaged back and forth among the grass and shrubs—not just scanning, but parting layers of leaves and branches, her gaze intent, unwilling to miss a single spot, murmuring softly under her breath,

“Where on earth is it?”

It seemed something important had been lost here.

Lin Zhiyi watched for a brief moment, then turned to leave.

This had nothing to do with him; they were strangers, and barging in to help would only seem suspicious.

Better to hurry to the tuck shop for bread—any later, and his favorites would be gone.

A cream bun, and maybe… a pork floss one; the salad hot dog sounded good too.

Mulling flavors as he walked, he was nearly at the shop when he passed a school janitor.

They should’ve simply crossed paths, no interaction, but he happened to glance over.

That one glance revealed, in the worker’s cart amid piles of trimmed dry grass, branches, and debris, something shiny.

It might’ve gone unnoticed without close inspection, but a stray sunbeam hit the silver material, making it gleam conspicuously in that instant.

Lin Zhiyi peered closer: it was a dainty woodland-style hair clip, shaped like a white gardenia ornament.

The design looked terribly familiar.

Of course—yesterday evening, when the short-haired girl had nearly collided into his arms, this very accessory had been pinned in her hair.

So, this was likely what she was hunting for.

Perhaps it’d fallen near the plants and been swept up as discarded trash by the groundskeeper, who might not have even noticed.

Either way, the item the girl was so earnestly seeking wasn’t where she’d assumed.

Lin Zhiyi spoke up.

“Excuse me—that’s my classmate’s hair clip; mind if I take it back to her?”

The worker handed it over without question.

His steps toward the tuck shop halted.

Time to turn back.

He returned to the spot, finding the girl still searching relentlessly, though her posture was hardly graceful: upper body half-buried in the flower bed, hips thrust outward, nearly diving headfirst into the foliage.

Good thing hardly anyone came here.

Hey, any higher on that skirt and I’d see your panties—ah… her rear shifted, white.

Lingering here risked painting him as a peeping creep on girls; Lin Zhiyi called out a few times, but not knowing her name, he settled for “Classmate!”

No response after several tries, so he tapped her shoulder.

The girl turned in confusion, her eyes locking instantly on the accessory in the boy’s hand.

The young man asked softly,

“Is this what you were looking for?”

“Ah! That’s it!!”

The girl erupted in excitement, leaping forward in one bound to snatch it, planting a light kiss on it, tiny teardrops beading at her eye corners.

She cupped it gently in clasped hands, her voice quivering,

“I thought I’d never find it…”

“Then I’ll be off.”

“Wait,”

His sleeve was tugged; Lin Zhiyi turned back in bemusement, just as the girl stepped closer, eyes sparkling as she gazed at him.

“You really saved me—I’ve got to thank you properly!

Huh… you’re the guy from the office yesterday…”

“No need—just a small thing,”

Lin Zhiyi said mildly.

“I only found it by chance; didn’t take much effort.”

“You’re… Lin Zhiyi?”

The girl leaned in to read his name badge pinned to his chest, reciting it, then looked up, her bright eyes fixed unwaveringly on him.

Lin Zhiyi froze a bit, because she was too close—close enough to catch the sweet, fruity fragrance on her breath.

“What? Is the name weird?”

“No no,”

She realized the intimacy of the distance too, cheeks tinting pink as she stepped back—too hastily, nearly tripping over herself.

She pointed to her own badge, beaming,

“So, introductions: I’m Zhao Qingning…

And now we’re friends!”

Sunlight danced on her shoulder-length hair, tips swaying with her lively gestures.

Her eyes were clear and doe-like, sparkling with every turn.

“This means the world to me—nothing’s too much to thank you with!”

She couldn’t suppress her grin, reiterating it.

“No big deal.

Then I’ll grab that bread—hope my flavors aren’t sold out.”

Zhao Qingning looked shocked.

“You haven’t eaten yet—just to help me find this?”

Yeah, who’s gonna make up for my missing nutrients?

“Here!”

She rummaged in her uniform pocket, producing something to hand over: a candy.

You actually have one?

Thanks, then.

Lin Zhiyi unwrapped and popped it in.

The candy burst tart and sweet on his tongue, a curious flavor—like lemon.

Though eating sour on an empty stomach wasn’t smart; now he felt even hungrier, appetite whetted.

Question: three a.m., starving, only digestive tablets at home—eat or not?

“Right.”

Lin Zhiyi asked as if suddenly recalling something.

“Hm?”

“Why’d your hair clip end up here?”

“Ugh… Miss Zhang threw it from upstairs.”

She traced an arc from the teaching building’s window above with her finger.

“Dunno what’s with her these days—loses it at any girl dolled up; she even made one from our class cry.”

She stuck out her tongue, face indignant.

Lin Zhiyi nodded, fully getting her frustration.

That explained it; their English teacher, Miss Zhang, practiced the way of ruthlessness—even he, who ignored gossip, had heard whispers.

If memory served, this Miss Zhang was still in phase one; a year from now, she’d endure divorce—her husband finally unable to stomach life with her.

After that, her students’ suffering truly began.

Miss Zhang plunged fully into the demonic path: any whiff of puppy love, and she’d report both parties’ parents; even sans evidence, mere suspicion warranted classroom tirades.

She wielded it as her blade, vowing to sever every budding romance.

Students nicknamed her behind her back—the kinder ones “Fahai” or “Blue Dad,” not blue buff, but antonym to matchmaker.

It escalated; the classroom became her emotional dump.

This dragged on until Lin Zhiyi’s graduation—that is, Lin Yingyuan’s senior year—when she told him Miss Zhang got audio-recorded and reported, evidence piled high, leading to her dismissal.

Who the righteous soul was that slew this fiend, he didn’t know.

Truly, heroes dotted the land like carp in the river.

But that was post-graduation for him; for same-year Zhao Qingning, it meant her entire high school under this demon’s thumb—brutal.

Fortunately, his English teacher wasn’t her—just subbed once.

He turned to go.

“Th-that…”

The girl’s voice called from behind; the boy looked back:

“?”

Zhao Qingning fiddled with her petite lime-green phone, fingertips tapping the screen to bring up a friend code.

“Add WeChat? We’re friends now, right?”

Such a déjà vu scene; he didn’t refuse.

Ding!

[You’ve added [Lemon Candy] as a friend—come chat with her!]