By day three of Jiang Yue's brand-new life as a public spectacle, he discovered something horrifying.
Trying was exhausting.
Studying, especially, was a slow, humiliating kind of suffering. Not the dramatic suffering he was used to, like arguments and fights and sharp words. This was quiet suffering. Sitting still. Reading things that didn't want to be understood. Watching the clock move like it hated him personally.
The night before, he'd stayed up late pretending he wasn't doing it for Wei Nianzhan, only to realize at 1:00 a.m. that he'd re-read the same paragraph eight times and could now recite it out of spite.
He woke up irritated.
Which meant he arrived at school irritated.
Which meant, naturally, something had to happen.
At lunch, Jiang Yue walked into the cafeteria with Xu Zhe at his side, tray in hand, eyes scanning the room like a battlefield.
The cafeteria was split into invisible territories, as usual.
The athletes took the tables near the windows. The top students took the quiet tables closer to the teachers' line of sight, where nobody dared laugh too loudly. The "popular" group took the center tables, where everyone could see them. Everyone else rotated around these planets like smaller objects trying not to get pulled into someone else's gravity.
And then there was Wei Nianzhan.
Wei sat at the far end, near the wall, with Shen Yichen and two other students who looked like they only spoke in exam answers. Their table was neat. Their trays were arranged like they'd been measured. Their conversation, if it existed, was probably about test strategies and oxygen efficiency.
Jiang Yue stared at that table and felt his irritation sharpen.
Xu Zhe followed his gaze. "Don't," he warned, already smiling like he wanted him to. "Don't start a cafeteria incident."
Jiang Yue scoffed. "Me? Start an incident? I'm just eating."
"You eat like you're trying to declare war," Xu Zhe said.
Jiang Yue ignored him and headed toward an empty table—until Tang Ruo appeared like a well-dressed ghost and blocked his path.
She had a tray too, but she held it like she didn't need it.
"Jiang Yue," she said lightly. "Sit with us."
Jiang Yue raised an eyebrow. "Us."
Tang Ruo tilted her head toward the center tables.
Her clique was there: two girls with perfect eyeliner and one boy with styled hair who always looked like he'd just stepped out of a mirror. They were laughing too loudly, phones out, acting like school was a stage.
Xu Zhe made a quiet impressed noise. "Oh. You've been invited into the royal court."
Jiang Yue stared at Tang Ruo. "Why."
Tang Ruo smiled, bright and sharp. "Because it's fun."
Jiang Yue almost refused out of instinct. But then he noticed something: eyes turning. People watching.
If he sat with Tang Ruo, the rumor wave would shift again. It would become: Jiang Yue is with Tang Ruo.
And if there was one thing Jiang Yue understood, it was using attention like a weapon.
He shrugged. "Fine."
Xu Zhe's grin widened like Christmas. "I'm coming too."
They walked to the center tables.
Tang Ruo's friends looked Jiang Yue up and down with interest, like he was a dangerous new accessory.
"Wow," one of the girls murmured. "You really are handsome in person."
Jiang Yue smiled sweetly. "Thank you. I grew it myself."
They laughed, half amused, half unsure whether he was joking.
Tang Ruo sat down across from Jiang Yue, legs crossed, posture perfect.
"So," she said, casually spearing a piece of tofu. "How's life with Wei Nianzhan."
The table went quiet, ears angled in.
Xu Zhe kicked Jiang Yue under the table, delighted.
Jiang Yue's smile stayed calm. "Peaceful."
Tang Ruo's eyes glittered. "Liar."
Jiang Yue took a bite of his food slowly. "He doesn't talk. It's like living with a dictionary."
The boy with styled hair—Liang Qifan—laughed. "A dictionary? That's harsh."
"It's accurate," Jiang Yue said. "He has definitions for everything. Including me."
Tang Ruo leaned forward slightly. "What's your definition."
Jiang Yue smiled. "Trouble."
Tang Ruo's eyes softened, just a fraction, like she'd expected him to pretend otherwise. Then she said, "And what's his definition."
Jiang Yue glanced toward the wall table without meaning to.
Wei was still there, eating quietly, head slightly lowered, expression unreadable.
Jiang Yue's jaw tightened. "Perfect."
Tang Ruo hummed. "You hate him."
Jiang Yue looked back at her. "I hate everyone."
Tang Ruo laughed, pleased. "At least you're honest."
Around them, other students watched. A few phones lifted subtly. Someone whispered to someone else. Jiang Yue could feel the attention like heat.
Then, across the room, Shen Yichen looked up.
His gaze landed on Jiang Yue sitting at the center table.
It hardened immediately.
Shen leaned toward Wei and said something low.
Wei's gaze lifted.
His eyes landed on Jiang Yue.
For a second, the noise in the cafeteria faded.
Wei Nianzhan was looking at him the way he'd looked at him at the wedding: calm, assessing, like he was counting Jiang Yue's teeth.
Jiang Yue held his gaze and smiled slightly, because he was not going to be the one to look away.
Tang Ruo noticed the glance exchange. Her smile sharpened. "Oh," she murmured. "He's watching."
Xu Zhe whispered, thrilled, "This is insane."
Jiang Yue didn't respond. He forced himself to look away first, because he didn't want Wei to think he could control him with eye contact.
He turned back to his food and continued eating like nothing was happening.
The first strike of the lunch table war was simple.
Tang Ruo's friend took a photo—subtle, angled—of Jiang Yue at their table, laughing, looking relaxed.
Then she posted it to her private story, which was private in the same way the school's gossip chat was private: meaning everyone would see it within ten minutes.
Caption: New company at lunch.
The effect was immediate.
Students' eyes turned more openly now. Whispers grew louder. A few people walked by the center table too slowly, pretending they weren't looking.
Jiang Yue felt the ripple and pretended it didn't satisfy him.
Tang Ruo watched the room like a queen watching her influence spread. "See," she said softly. "Easy."
Jiang Yue raised an eyebrow. "You're using me."
Tang Ruo smiled. "You're using me too."
She wasn't wrong.
Across the cafeteria, Shen Yichen's jaw tightened.
He stood abruptly, tray in hand, and walked toward them.
Wei didn't move. He watched.
Shen stopped at the edge of the center table, shadow falling over Jiang Yue's tray.
Tang Ruo looked up, expression perfectly polite. "Shen Yichen."
Shen ignored her. His gaze locked on Jiang Yue. "What are you doing."
Jiang Yue looked up slowly, calm. "Eating."
Shen's eyes narrowed. "Don't act stupid."
Jiang Yue smiled. "I'm not acting."
A few people nearby went quiet, pretending to focus on their food.
Xu Zhe leaned forward, eyes bright. "Hi," he said cheerfully. "What's up."
Shen didn't look at him. "Jiang Yue. Don't drag Wei into your mess."
Jiang Yue's smile thinned. "Your mess."
Shen's voice sharpened. "Everyone's talking about him because of you."
Jiang Yue's irritation flared. "He's also talking about me, last I checked."
Shen's gaze flicked, sharp. "Wei doesn't talk about you."
Jiang Yue leaned back in his chair. "Then why are you here."
Shen's jaw flexed.
Tang Ruo, amused, stirred her drink. "Is this about protecting Wei's image," she asked lightly. "Or protecting your own."
Shen's eyes flashed toward her, then back to Jiang Yue. "Stay away from him," he said, low.
Jiang Yue stared at him for a beat, then laughed softly. "No."
The single word landed like a slap.
Shen's hand tightened around his tray. "You think this is funny."
Jiang Yue's gaze sharpened. "You think you can tell me what to do."
Shen leaned in slightly, voice dropping. "Wei doesn't need you."
Something in Jiang Yue's chest twisted.
He didn't even know why that sentence hit. It shouldn't matter.
So he made it matter less by turning it into a weapon.
Jiang Yue smiled slowly. "Maybe," he said. "But now he has me."
Shen froze.
Tang Ruo's eyebrows lifted, delighted.
Xu Zhe made a tiny choking sound like he'd swallowed laughter wrong.
From across the room, Wei stood.
Not fast. Not dramatic. Just… stood.
The movement alone was enough to shift the air.
Shen straightened slightly, senses catching.
Wei walked toward them, tray in hand, posture calm, expression unreadable.
The cafeteria watched like it was a live show.
Wei stopped beside Shen and looked at Jiang Yue, then at Tang Ruo, then at Shen again.
"What are you doing," Wei asked Shen, voice quiet.
Shen's expression tightened. "I'm—"
Wei interrupted gently, which was somehow worse. "Go back."
Shen blinked. "Wei—"
Wei's gaze sharpened slightly. "Go back."
Shen hesitated, jaw tight, then finally turned and walked away, shoulders stiff.
Tang Ruo watched him leave with a satisfied smile.
Wei's gaze returned to Jiang Yue.
Jiang Yue stared up at him, chin lifted. "You're here to arrest me too."
Wei's voice stayed calm. "No."
Jiang Yue's smile thinned. "Then what."
Wei looked at the empty seat beside Jiang Yue.
The center table went very still.
Tang Ruo's eyes widened slightly.
Xu Zhe looked like he might faint from joy.
Wei set his tray down and sat.
Right beside Jiang Yue.
The cafeteria practically stopped breathing.
Jiang Yue's heart kicked hard, which made him furious at himself.
Wei adjusted his tray neatly and started eating like he hadn't just detonated the social atmosphere.
Jiang Yue leaned slightly toward him, voice low. "Are you insane."
Wei didn't look at him. "You were going to start a fight."
Jiang Yue scoffed. "So you're here to babysit me."
Wei's chopsticks paused for a second.
Then he said, quietly, "I'm here because it's easier."
Jiang Yue's eyes narrowed. "Easier for what."
Wei's gaze flicked toward Shen Yichen across the room, then away. "For everyone to stop talking."
Jiang Yue laughed, bitter. "They'll talk more now."
Wei took a bite, calm. "Let them."
Tang Ruo watched them like she was watching something she'd engineered. "Wow," she murmured. "Wei Nianzhan sits at our table now. That's a miracle."
Wei's gaze moved to her briefly, polite. "Hello."
Tang Ruo smiled. "Hello."
Xu Zhe stared at Wei like he was a rare animal. "So," Xu Zhe said, unable to help himself, "are you really living together now?"
Wei's tone stayed even. "Yes."
Xu Zhe's grin widened. "And how is it."
Wei paused.
Just a fraction.
Then he said, "Loud."
Jiang Yue choked on his food.
Tang Ruo laughed, delighted.
Xu Zhe slapped the table. "I love this."
Jiang Yue glared at Wei. "You're dead."
Wei finally glanced at him, eyes steady. "After school," he said calmly, "you have fifteen minutes in the bathroom."
Jiang Yue stared at him.
Then he laughed, sharp and helpless. "You really are insane."
Wei returned to his food, calm.
But Jiang Yue could feel it, beneath the calmness: Wei had chosen this seat deliberately. Not just to stop Shen. Not just to stop rumors.
To draw a line.
A line that said: if you want to talk about my family, you talk to me.
Jiang Yue didn't know whether to feel protected or trapped.
He hated that he couldn't tell the difference.
By the time lunch ended, the cafeteria had a new story.
Wei Nianzhan sat with Jiang Yue.
Wei Nianzhan called him family.
Wei Nianzhan didn't let anyone touch him.
And Jiang Yue, the troublemaker, was no longer just a clown in the back row.
He was something dangerous.
Because he was close to the school's untouchable.
As the lunch bell rang, Wei stood, picked up his tray, and looked down at Jiang Yue.
"Go," he said.
Jiang Yue blinked. "Go where."
Wei's voice stayed calm. "Class."
Jiang Yue scoffed, but he stood too, because for some reason his body obeyed before his pride could object.
Tang Ruo watched them walk away, eyes thoughtful now, no longer just amused.
Xu Zhe jogged beside Jiang Yue and whispered, "This is turning into a full series."
Jiang Yue muttered, "I hate my life."
Xu Zhe grinned. "No you don't. You love the chaos."
Jiang Yue didn't answer.
Because he wasn't sure anymore if the chaos loved him back.