Who are you?

"This school really has a personality, stripping us of all our odds and ends the moment we arrive." Uesugi Hara glanced at Ayanokoji beside him and couldn't help but grumble.

Recalling the look the staff member gave him during the inspection, Uesugi Hara felt his face burn—was it really necessary to pat him down from head to toe, only to pull out a few coins in the end? Did they have to give him that look of wanting to say something but holding back?

Ayanokoji, listening from the side, felt the corners of his mouth twitch imperceptibly. He had known for years that Uesugi Hara hadn't been doing well, but he hadn't expected him to be in such a sorry state.

Still, he remained calm and followed the lead of the conversation: "Yeah, the rules are quite strict."

"Sigh, I wonder if I'll be able to get by in this school." Uesugi Hara sighed, his tone filled with helplessness.

He suddenly patted Ayanokoji on the shoulder and leaned in closer: "Hey, Ayanokoji, if you ever make it big, you've got to look out for your good brother, yeah?"

Ayanokoji moved aside without a word, putting some distance between them, and said flatly: "We'll see when the time comes."

"Fine, let's go check the class assignments first." Uesugi Hara raised an eyebrow when he saw him dodging, but he cheekily leaned back in.

Are you kidding? He'd already lost face by pulling out those coins in front of so many people; if he didn't rely on Ayanokoji to share some of the attention, was he supposed to bear all those scrutinizing gazes alone?

Ayanokoji was at a loss with this old "friend." The guy was fine in every way, except for being completely shameless and having no sense of boundaries. Helpless as he was, he still spoke up: "Let's go, it'll be inconvenient once it gets crowded."

The two arrived in front of the bulletin board. Uesugi Hara scanned the list for Class A and didn't find Ayanokoji's name, feeling a bit disappointed: "Looks like we aren't in the same class."

Ayanokoji actually felt a sense of relief—thank goodness they weren't in the same class. If he were really in the same class as this guy, there was no telling how much trouble he'd stir up. On the surface, however, he remained calm and said flatly: "Seems we aren't fated to be together."

He quickly found his name on the list for Class D.

Uesugi Hara caught a glimpse of it too, and as his eyes swept over the Class D list, he spotted the name "Kushida Kikyo." A meaningful smile suddenly curled the corner of his lips: "Class D, huh... looks like things might get interesting, Ayanokoji."

Ayanokoji nodded thoughtfully. He knew Uesugi Hara wouldn't say something like that for no reason; there had to be a cause.

But he didn't ask further. As long as it didn't affect his peaceful college life, it was fine.

"Well, Ayanokoji, see you next time." Uesugi Hara waved at him and turned to walk toward his own class.

Ayanokoji watched Uesugi Hara's retreating back in silence, wondering what he was thinking.

In the Class A classroom, Uesugi Hara found his seat—the same old spot in the back by the window.

He had just sat down and hadn't even had a chance to survey the classroom when someone approached him.

"Uesugi-kun, long time no see."

Uesugi Hara looked up at the white-haired little girl leaning on a cane. She wore a confident smile, as if she had known him for years.

Yet, he searched his memory and truly couldn't recall knowing a girl with a limp like this.

"Sorry," he raised an eyebrow, his tone filled with confusion, "do we know each other?"

The smile on Sakayanagi Arisu's face froze instantly.

She had already learned from her father, Sakayanagi Narimori, that Ayanokoji would be coming to Advanced Nurturing. That news alone had been enough to excite her, but she hadn't expected to see the name "Uesugi Hara" on the class assignment list as well.

At first, she thought it was just a coincidence of names, but when she saw him in the flesh from a distance earlier, she had almost lost control of her emotions.

Suppressing the unnatural flush on her face, she walked step by step to Uesugi Hara's desk, full of anticipation for their reunion, only to be met with that question.

What now? This is so awkward.

Just as Sakayanagi Arisu stood frozen, some hushed whispers from the surroundings provided a timely distraction.

"Who is that white-haired girl? She looks so unique."

"I think she's the daughter of the Chairman, Sakayanagi Arisu, right?"

"The Chairman's daughter? Then why would she take the initiative to talk to that guy..."

"Even if that guy is a little bit more handsome than me, why isn't she talking to me instead!"

"I suggest you go look in a mirror in the bathroom; I can't believe you have the nerve to say 'a little bit more handsome'."

The surrounding chatter wasn't loud, but it drifted precisely into Uesugi Hara's ears. The moment he caught the keywords, a lightbulb seemed to go off in his head—Chairman's daughter = rich girl = money!

The confusion he felt a second ago vanished, his eyes instantly clearing. A familiar, warm smile plastered onto his face, his tone so enthusiastic that it was as if his earlier confusion had been a hallucination: "Oh, it's Classmate Sakayanagi! It really has been a long time. I didn't recognize you for a second, please don't take offense."

As he spoke, he leaned in closer, his "meeting an old friend in a foreign land" enthusiasm so convincing that the students whispering nearby were stunned—it was a shame he didn't study Sichuan opera with that speed of changing faces.

Sakayanagi Arisu was taken aback by his sudden warmth, a flicker of bewilderment crossing her eyes—could he actually remember her?

In an instant, she raised that elegant and composed smile again and asked softly: "It's fine. But I wonder if Uesugi-kun remembers when we last met?"

As soon as those words left her lips, Uesugi Hara's heart skipped a beat.

This question really put Uesugi Hara in a bind. I don't even know you, how would I know when we met?

But he remained as steady as a mountain on the surface. This was a wealthy heiress, after all; latching onto her could save him decades of struggle! He had to treat her well; he couldn't show any weakness at this critical juncture.

He cleared his throat, his tone still as familiar as an old friend's: "Of course I remember. The last time we met... wasn't it... last time? How could I forget something like that."

His words were vague, but his gaze was exceptionally sincere, as if he believed that as long as he sounded certain enough, the other person would believe it too.

Sakayanagi Arisu watched him pretending to be calm, and the composure and elegance on her face finally cracked—who is he trying to fool? Does she look like someone who is that easy to brush off?

Seeing Uesugi Hara clearly not knowing her at all, yet stubbornly putting on a sincere "of course I remember you" act, she couldn't help but let out a soft laugh, her tone tinged with teasing: "It seems Uesugi-kun truly has a memory for important things. But it doesn't matter, forgetting is fine too. We have plenty of time to get to know each other again."

With that, Sakayanagi Arisu leaned on her cane and turned back toward her own seat.

This caught Uesugi Hara off guard, and he couldn't help but mutter to himself: Could it be that he actually knew her?

He sifted through everyone he could name in his mind, over and over, but he simply couldn't find a trace of this little white-haired girl.

Could she have been some insignificant character from the past, someone he had cast to the back of his mind after a single glance?

But someone had just said she was the daughter of the chairman—that was no ordinary status. If he had really met such a wealthy young lady, how could he have absolutely no memory of it?

Uesugi Hara frowned, finding it stranger the more he thought about it. His fingertips tapped the desk unconsciously, and for a moment, he lost the heart to observe anyone else in the class.

Back at her seat, the elegant smile on Sakayanagi Arisu's face faded, and a flicker of imperceptible anger flashed in the depths of her eyes.

He actually didn't remember her?

Back in the White Room, she had played against him with a mindset of certain victory, only to be crushed and left in total defeat. The memory of her embarrassment, of her eyes turning red, still made her feel hot with shame whenever she thought of it. How could she possibly bring up such a humiliating event herself?

But he, on the other hand, truly had no impression of it whatsoever.

She gently tightened her grip on her cane, her knuckles turning slightly white, and a self-deprecating curve tugged at the corner of her mouth. It seemed that the surprise of this reunion was, after all, a one-woman show.