Chapter Twenty-Four: Who Gave You Permission to Move?

No matter how cautiously the students whispered among themselves, word, in the end, could not be contained. Inevitably, the news made its way—by some inscrutable twist of fate—into Jiang Muwen’s ears. Of course, when it reached Jiang Muwen, it also reached Wen Yichen as a matter of course.

One person told ten, ten told a hundred. Although this gossip circulated only within the class, it still unsettled Jiang Muwen. If it had simply been rumors that Wen Yichen liked her, she might have felt a bit pleased, but some classmates could not resist embellishing the tale. When recounting the story, their tone would take on a note of incredulity; when calling her a fool, the words acquired a cutting edge.

And the source of it all was Zhou Yao.

During a break, Yin Lizhe was just returning to the classroom when Zhou Yao, who sat in the front row, accidentally sent her pen flying. She intended to pick it up herself, but the pen rolled away, coming to rest beside Yin Lizhe’s foot—a small, unwelcome coincidence that life sometimes delivers.

In the next moment, Zhou Yao froze. She was somewhat afraid of Yin Lizhe, even though he had never spoken a word to her.

What she did not expect was that Yin Lizhe was not as fierce as rumor would have it. He glanced down at the pen near his foot, then looked up at Zhou Yao.

His gaze was sharp by nature, making it hard for anyone to meet his eyes for long. He slowly crouched down, picked up the pen, and straightened up with unhurried calm.

Yet he did not return the pen immediately. Instead, he rested his free hand on Zhou Yao’s desk, then leaned down toward her.

His bright eyes fixed on her, a chill in their depths. Without a word, he made Zhou Yao instinctively shrink back.

“Who said you could move?” The words were cold, drifting into Zhou Yao’s ears and compelling her to resume her former posture.

She looked up timidly, only to meet Yin Lizhe’s icy gaze. He stared at her as if he might devour her whole.

“Is… is there something you need?” Intimidated by his presence, Zhou Yao stammered.

In truth, Yin Lizhe had little business with Zhou Yao—he only wished to ask her one thing…

“Did that rumor start with you?” Yin Lizhe asked.

Zhou Yao stared at him, too scared to speak.

Seeing her reaction, he took her silence as confirmation and did not press further. His face remained impassive, his long fingers tapping lightly on the desk, betraying nothing of his mood.

“Listen carefully,” he said, his voice soft but menacing in her ear. “If you ever spread such embellishments again, I won’t be so polite.”

His gaze never left her, cold and unyielding, as if he might let fly an arrow at any moment.

What truly bothered Yin Lizhe was not the rumor that Wen Yichen liked Jiang Muwen, but Zhou Yao’s embellishments—telling everyone that Jiang Muwen was a fool, that she had joined their class only to drag down the average.

Each time Yin Lizhe heard someone say such things about Jiang Muwen, something within him grew restless.

The air grew heavy with silence, all attention subtly drawn to the pair, yet no one dared approach to overhear their exchange. To the others, it looked as though a tyrant was bullying a classmate.

The quiet lingered. Yin Lizhe slowly raised his eyes, scanning the room before letting his gaze settle once more on Zhou Yao.

Then he lifted the hand holding the pen. The pen landed on the desk with a crisp, sharp sound, startling Zhou Yao so much that she instinctively recoiled.

Still, Yin Lizhe did not immediately release the pen. His deep, inscrutable eyes remained fixed on Zhou Yao.

After a while, he finally let go, then walked to his own seat.

The moment he sat down, the air erupted with whispers, pent-up interest bursting forth. Everyone began speculating about what Yin Lizhe had just said to Zhou Yao; some even crept over to her desk, quietly inquiring about their conversation.

Zhou Yao seemed still shaken—though Yin Lizhe had done nothing to her. To her classmates’ questions, she responded only that it was nothing.

As soon as Yin Lizhe sat down, his fierce demeanor vanished. He turned around with a grin, looking playfully at Jiang Muwen.

Jiang Muwen had witnessed everything. So when Yin Lizhe suddenly turned to her, she instinctively leaned back, as if to avoid him.

“Boss, your little brother has already warned the rumormonger. She shouldn’t spread stories about you anymore.” Yin Lizhe wore a self-satisfied smile, like a child seeking praise after a good deed.

“….” Jiang Muwen took a moment to process his words, then finally murmured a soft thank you.

“No need to thank me. As long as I’m here, no one will dare call you a fool again,” he replied with pride.

As soon as Yin Lizhe finished, Wen Yichen, seated behind Jiang Muwen, instinctively looked up, his gaze settling on the two in front.

Jiang Muwen said nothing. She lowered her eyes, and her gaze dimmed—she was indeed not clever. Without Wen Yichen, her situation might have been far worse. Zhou Yao’s words had torn open her wounds, and every new whisper seemed to rub salt into them.

No student likes to be called stupid or the worst in class—at least Jiang Muwen could not bear it.

“Hey—don’t be upset, boss!” Seeing her silence, Yin Lizhe grew flustered. Comforting girls was not his forte, so he simply sprawled across her desk, gazing up at her, watching for any sign of her mood. “Don’t be sad! I’m behind you, aren’t I? As long as I’m here, you’ll never be at the bottom.”

“I’m not upset,” Jiang Muwen said, casting him a glance as she pulled a workbook from her bag and set it on the desk.

“You’re lying. Look at your face… How about I make a funny face for you?” Without waiting for her permission, Yin Lizhe contorted his features in a comical grimace.

When Jiang Muwen ignored him, he awkwardly freed a hand and patted her. “Boss, look! If you don’t, my face will cramp up.”