Chapter Forty-Eight: The Gift of a Scarf

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Seeing the look of anticipation on Jiang Muwen’s face, Wen Yichen found himself at a loss. The cold wind whipped past his tall frame, leaving him feeling a bit disheveled. He stared blankly at Jiang Muwen, as if lost in thought.

After a moment of inner struggle, he finally shoved his hands into his pockets and turned away. “Well, there’s nothing I can do. Who told you to dress so lightly? Now you know what cold feels like?”

“…?”

Wen Yichen’s response clearly caught Jiang Muwen off guard. She had expected him to give her something to keep warm, but instead received such a reply—completely different from what she’d imagined.

“I didn’t know…” she mumbled, trailing after Wen Yichen, her tone tinged with grievance. If she’d known there’d be a sudden drop in temperature today, she certainly wouldn’t have dressed so thinly.

Looking at the white turtleneck sweater beneath Wen Yichen’s autumn uniform, Jiang Muwen suddenly found herself unable to feel the slightest envy—how strange.

Her eyes lingered on his thick sweater, almost sparkling with longing. She nearly wished she could rush over and tear it right off him.

But that was only a fleeting thought. Even if Wen Yichen stood in front of her and offered, she wouldn’t dare.

She rubbed her arms briskly, then quickened her pace to catch up, burying her head deeper into the scarf Wen Yichen had lent her, seeking whatever warmth she could find.

Wen Yichen glanced down at her and sighed, helplessly. She was already so petite, and huddling up like this made her look even smaller. “Are you really that cold?”

“If you swapped your sweater for a sweatshirt, you’d understand,” Jiang Muwen replied, shivering despite herself. She wore only two layers today—a sweatshirt and her autumn uniform. The wind in City A was like a witch’s spell, slipping through her clothes and seeping into her skin.

As Jiang Muwen was speaking, suddenly a backpack appeared before her. Before she could react, Wen Yichen spoke: “Take it.”

“Huh?” she asked, confused, but still reached out and accepted the bag.

She had only taken a few steps forward when a force tugged her back—someone was holding the strap. A moment later, Wen Yichen’s next command reached her ears: “Take off your backpack.”

“Oh…” Jiang Muwen couldn’t quite figure out what Wen Yichen was up to, but after he let go, she obediently did as she was told.

She heard the soft rustle of clothing, and in the next instant, a wave of warmth enveloped her from behind. Her ears burned hot, and her heart fluttered madly in her chest.

Wen Yichen had really draped his jacket over her shoulders.

“If you do this again, I won’t lend you my jacket next time,” he said, taking her bag from her hands. Seeing her standing there in a daze, he added, “What are you doing just standing there? Put the jacket on properly!”

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It was only when Wen Yichen said this that Jiang Muwen snapped out of her daze. She quickly uttered a soft “oh” and obediently slipped her arms into the sleeves.

His autumn uniform was much too large for her, the hem falling past her hips and the sleeves dangling well past her hands, like flowing water sleeves.

On a whim, Jiang Muwen swung the long sleeves back and forth, looking for all the world like a child sneaking around in adult clothes.

After a while, Wen Yichen’s voice sounded beside her again: “Enough playing, put your backpack on.”

Jiang Muwen glanced at him, and for some inexplicable reason, she stuck out her hand, indicating she wanted his help.

Wen Yichen was momentarily taken aback by her reaction, then pursed his lips in resignation. He walked over, slipped one of her arms through a strap, and stood by her side, holding the other strap.

Jiang Muwen couldn’t see the other strap, so she fumbled for it by feel, but no matter how she tried, she couldn’t seem to get her arm through.

Watching her arms flail back and forth, Wen Yichen finally laughed aloud. “Jiang Muwen, which set of morning exercises are you performing now?”

It was only then that Jiang Muwen realized how ridiculous she must have looked. She stopped abruptly, cheeks burning red as she stood there in embarrassment.

Seeing her so flustered, Wen Yichen decided not to tease her any further and simply let go of the strap so she could manage on her own.

The sky was growing dark, and streetlights along the road flickered to life. By now, the two of them had reached home. Just before going in, Jiang Muwen returned the uniform jacket to Wen Yichen and reached for the scarf around her neck, planning to return it too.

“No need,” Wen Yichen’s voice came from beside her.

“Hm?” Jiang Muwen looked at him in confusion.

“It’s for you.”

“…?” Jiang Muwen was stunned, scarcely able to believe it.

“My mom brought back two scarves from S City. I meant to give you one anyway,” Wen Yichen said as he opened the door. “See you tomorrow.”

…

Friday arrived, and with it, the dreaded math class. When the test paper landed on Jiang Muwen’s desk, she froze in place. She flipped through it twice before glumly using an eraser to cover her score.

The teacher was explaining math problems at the front, but not a word seemed to reach Jiang Muwen.

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“How did you do on the test, Jiang Muwen?” Gu Nianxi asked softly.

“Not well… What about you?” Jiang Muwen didn’t have the courage to share her math grade with Gu Nianxi.

“I did badly too—only seventy-five.”

Hearing Gu Nianxi’s dejected tone, and then that score, Jiang Muwen’s heart skipped a beat—what a blow.

“And you?” Gu Nianxi asked in return.

There was no escaping the inevitable question. Jiang Muwen glanced around, then forced a bitter smile. “I… If you flip your score…”

No sooner had she spoken than the math teacher’s voice rang out: “Jiang Muwen!”

The sudden call made Jiang Muwen jump.

“If you’re so good at talking, come up here and solve this problem!”

Being called on so unexpectedly, Jiang Muwen’s scalp tingled—perhaps she’d destroyed a planet in her previous life, and this was her punishment.

“What are you waiting for? Come up—” the teacher urged, tapping the desk with a piece of chalk, the rhythmic sound like a countdown from the underworld, chilling to the bone.

The atmosphere froze; the whole class fell silent. The air was heavy from the start—everyone had done poorly, and the teacher was clearly in a foul mood.

Reluctantly, Jiang Muwen stood and dragged herself to the podium, taking the chalk from the teacher. She stood stiffly in front of the blackboard.

“What’s the matter? Can’t bear to solve this problem?”

The teacher’s voice reached her ears, leaving her both amused and helpless—she had no idea how to solve the problem on the board.

Standing there, Jiang Muwen felt petrified. After a long moment, she turned awkwardly and glanced instinctively at Wen Yichen.

There he sat, head propped lazily in one hand, watching her with calm, unreadable eyes.