The Rich, Beautiful Senior and the Odd One Out in the Frame

That afternoon.

The whistle had just blown for a break from the grueling military training, and the formation fell apart in an instant.

A group of freshmen in cheap camouflage uniforms wailed as they rushed toward the shade at the edge of the sports field.

The four men from Room 504 snagged a spot beneath a large camphor tree.

Han Dong sprawled on the grass, limbs splayed, and took off his camouflage cap to fan himself furiously.

"I can't take it anymore."

His throat was parched as he complained between heavy breaths.

"Is Jiangcheng's weather trying to roast us to death? I swear the soles of my feet are smoking. Make me stand at attention for another half hour, and you can have Northeast China-style teppanyaki."

Chen Ziang was struggling with the heat too.

He usually cared the most about his appearance, but by now, a large patch on the back of his short-sleeved camouflage shirt was soaked with sweat and clinging uncomfortably to his skin. Frowning, he took a packet of tissues and carefully wiped the sweat from his neck.

Zhao Yifan sat beside them without a word, silently unscrewing his water bottle to drink.

Just as the freshmen lay sprawled haphazardly across the ground, a small commotion suddenly arose at the edge of the field.

Several people were walking over from the entrance.

They weren't wearing military training uniforms, and Jiang University Campus Media News Department work badges hung around their necks.

At the front was a young woman.

She was dressed simply.

She wore a loose white shirt of excellent quality with a pair of washed-blue straight-leg jeans. She had no extra accessories or heavy makeup, and she carried a DSLR camera fitted with a telephoto lens.

It was an utterly ordinary outfit, yet as she walked over, it was as though a barrier had instantly shut out the sticky heat around her.

An aloof coolness and purity seemed to come from her very bones.

It carried a natural air of distance.

A moment ago, Han Dong had been sprawled on the ground, yelling that he was about to be roasted alive. Now he caught sight of her out of the corner of his eye and sprang up as though he'd been electrocuted.

He shot out an elbow and jabbed Lu Chuan hard in the side.

"Brother Chuan!"

Han Dong kept his voice down, but it was trembling.

"Look, look!"

His eyes went round as he stared fixedly at the edge of the field.

"A world-class beauty! She's definitely a top-tier senior! Look at her bearing, her legs, her face... oh my god, I didn't get into this university for nothing."

Lu Chuan had been resting against the tree trunk.

Jabbed by Han Dong, he looked up in that direction and cast a casual glance.

Just one glance.

Lu Chuan's gaze paused for half a second.

Of course he recognized that face.

Shen Zhiyi.

Jiang University's campus belle, a second-year journalism student, and a true, top-tier rich beauty.

The sight of that flawless face slowly brought memories of his previous life to Lu Chuan's mind.

In his previous life, he had sharpened his head to a point trying to worm his way into Jiangcheng's most exclusive circle. At several high-end campus gatherings and events hosted by campus media, he had deliberately created opportunities to approach her.

Back then, Lu Chuan's head had been full of vanity.

He had thought that if he could win over a wealthy heiress with a background as powerful as Shen Zhiyi's, it would be like stamping his "rich second-generation" identity with the most authoritative seal.

After that, who in Jiangcheng would dare question him?

He had gone to great lengths for that purpose.

He studied the origins of the coffee beans she liked.

He memorized the background of the art exhibitions she frequented.

He even looked up the minimalist aesthetic philosophies of the brands she wore.

The two of them had indeed had a few brief encounters.

But every one of them had left Lu Chuan feeling utterly defeated.

Shen Zhiyi was impeccably well-bred.

There was no fault to be found in how she treated people; she spoke politely and conducted herself with perfect propriety. Yet that very flawless courtesy carried a cold barrier no one could cross.

Whenever she looked at someone, her gaze was always quiet and still.

Under those cool eyes, Lu Chuan had always felt an uncontrollable sense of guilt in his previous life.

He was a "fake young master" trying desperately to keep up a disguise. Facing a girl like Shen Zhiyi, who had truly been nurtured by the deep foundations of a distinguished family, even his confidence when he spoke hung suspended in midair.

He was always afraid that one wrong word or one gesture out of place would let her see straight through his cheap veneer.

That tangled feeling of inferiority intertwined with vanity had tormented him for a long time.

In the end.

Because of the lingering cowardice in his heart, he had quietly backed down after a few fruitless attempts.

At the thought, Lu Chuan leaned against the rough bark and let out a soft breath.

He had been given another life.

Once again, on this sports field reeking of sweat, he saw the face that had once made him feel ashamed of his own inadequacy.

Yet not a single ripple stirred in Lu Chuan's heart.

He no longer needed to prove his worth by attaching himself to any rich beauty.

He now had the large apartment in Quiet Garden, the Continental GT parked in the underground garage, and ten million in cash flow at his disposal. Most importantly, he had a stable, orderly life that belonged entirely to him.

He didn't need to look up to anyone.

Nor did he need to curry favor.

Shen Zhiyi and her companions followed the track, slowly approaching the shade.

As she drew closer, a subtle undercurrent began to stir among the freshmen who had been lying haphazardly on the grass.

Chen Ziang cleared his throat.

He silently straightened his back and reached up to smooth out the sweat-soaked collar of his camouflage uniform, which had curled up slightly. Even in his training uniform, he tried to show some of the composure and elegance of a local young master.

Han Dong also quickly abandoned his earlier, half-dead state.

He wiped the sweat from his face and tried to arrange his long legs into a seated pose he thought looked cool.

Some of the other boys nearby began joking loudly with their companions, trying to attract attention with their volume; others deliberately stretched to show off their muscles.

Male animals spreading their peacock feathers before the opposite sex was on full display at this age.

And while everyone else was trying to make their presence felt.

Lu Chuan simply looked away.

He remained lazily propped against the camphor tree, without deliberately adjusting his posture in the slightest.

He picked up the mineral water bottle beside him, unscrewed the cap with one hand, and tilted his head back for a drink.

The lukewarm water slid down his throat.

Looking at the rather dazzling sunlight across the field, Lu Chuan wasn't thinking about the senior at all.

Once military training was dismissed.

Going to the noodle shop on the back street for a bowl of hot noodle soup, adding an extra fried egg, and stopping by the supermarket for laundry detergent would be far more meaningful than trying to make his presence felt in front of anyone.

The perspective shifted to the edge of the track.

Holding the heavy DSLR, Shen Zhiyi slowly wandered along the formations' rest area.

She had come with an assignment today: during the freshmen's military training, she needed to capture a few candid photos showing the vitality and natural demeanor of young people, for the cover of the next issue of the welcome campus magazine.

"Zhiyi, the light's good over here."

The department head beside her pointed at the large group of freshmen in the shade.

"Try taking a few wide shots."

Shen Zhiyi nodded, raised the camera, and pressed her eye to the viewfinder.

Her finger rested on the shutter, and she pressed it several times, but her brows drew together slightly.

She wasn't satisfied.

No matter how she looked at it, the scene in the viewfinder felt awkward.

The moment those boys realized the lens was pointed at them, their reactions were practically identical.

They either suddenly tensed up and struck stiff, deliberately handsome poses; or turned straight toward her lens and stared fixedly at it; or deliberately shoved and jostled one another to get into the shot, their movements exaggerated beyond belief.

They were all too restless.

Too deliberate.

There was none of the pure, relaxed naturalness of young people that she wanted.

Somewhat disappointed, Shen Zhiyi lowered the camera and sighed softly.

Her personality was naturally on the cool side, and she was somewhat averse to an environment so full of people eager to show off.

"No good?" the department head asked.

"They all look posed."

Shen Zhiyi shook her head and casually turned the resistance ring on the telephoto lens.

She raised the camera, ready to try another direction, and swept the lens aimlessly toward the row of camphor trees at the far end of the field.

The lens swept swiftly past one restless face after another.

Past Chen Ziang, who was trying hard to sit up straight.

Past Han Dong, who was putting on a cool-guy act.

Suddenly.

Shen Zhiyi stopped turning the lens.

Under the compressed perspective of the telephoto lens, the image settled deep in the shade.

Right in the middle of a group of boys desperately straightening their clothes, making a racket, and trying to draw attention.

A boy in a cheap camouflage uniform slipped silently into her viewfinder.

He wasn't looking at the camera.

Nor was he looking at her.

He simply leaned casually against the rough tree trunk, one leg slightly bent and the other stretched out at ease.

The boy had his head lowered as he tightened the cap on his mineral water bottle with one hand.

His expression was utterly calm, without the slightest trace in his eyes of the restlessness or desire to show off that should have belonged to someone his age. He looked at the lawn in the distance, bleached white by the sun, his whole bearing deep and languid in a way that was utterly out of place on this noisy field.

Like an outsider who had wandered in by mistake.

That absolute air of relaxation stood out against the tense peers around him, jarring yet arresting.

Through the viewfinder, Shen Zhiyi looked at that unguarded, clean-cut profile.

Somehow.

Her hands paused slightly on the camera.

Her heart seemed to skip half a beat, and she couldn't help freezing for a moment.