Flirting was all about chemistry.
With Yara Lu, that spark was always missing.
But with her—he never seemed able to stop himself from teasing her.
Nathaniel Fu frowned, his expression gentlemanly yet firm. "Don't ask about Yaoyao and me."
The blush on Celia's face quickly faded. She drew back her hand. "I'm not asking."
With that, she turned to leave. But Nathaniel seized her arm again. "Have you given any thought to leaving the capital?"
Celia lifted her chin. "I won't leave."
"You're not leaving, yet you plan to keep this ridiculous bet and run naked? If you agree to leave the capital, I'll make sure this whole matter disappears. No one will remember it."
Her eyes went cold. "I don't need your help. Let me go."
Nathaniel's grip tightened. His sharp, brooding gaze bore down on her, heavy with oppressive force.
"Celia, are you so sure I won't allow you to go through with this bet? Is that why you're daring me now?"
"Professor Fu," Celia countered, her voice steady, "how about we make a bet instead?"
His brows arched. "What kind of bet?"
"I bet Class 28 will win."
Nathaniel let out a low, derisive laugh. "Fine. I'll bet you. If you win, I'll streak for you. If I win, you'll streak for me."
"…."
Celia's face flamed. She lifted her leg and kicked him hard. "Bah, pervert!"
Then she spun on her heel and ran.
Nathaniel was left standing in the corridor, the word pervert still ringing in his ears. For once, he didn't know how to respond.
Why had she come to the capital?
He hated that she had come.
Because the moment she arrived, his emotions had no longer been his own.
Before her arrival, his life had been simple. Work consumed him, and though his relationship with Yara Lu had cooled, it was still… normal. He hadn't touched her, but he also hadn't questioned it.
But after Celia came, he became restless. Distracted when Yara was near, his thoughts always drifting elsewhere—always toward her.
The truth was, this feeling had been growing even before she came. When he returned to the capital, he had already begun to notice the change. Yara's perfume, once pleasant, had become cloying. The sight of her smudged lipstick left him cold. He couldn't bring himself to kiss her.
That one moment—when Yara turned away from him—had drawn a line between them, too long and too deep.
And then… he met Celia.
It would have been fine if she were just anyone. But she wasn't. She was her. And now, his gaze could no longer stray from her.
So, he wanted her gone.
If she left the capital, maybe—just maybe—he could return to normal.
The long-awaited advanced mathematics exam finally arrived, and the Rocket Class could barely contain their excitement. They swaggered up to Class 28, smirking.
"We've been waiting for this day. You're about to lose miserably."
But Class 28 remained calm and composed. Each student sat with exam papers and pens neatly arranged, some still clutching the review booklet Celia had prepared. They read and reread until the very last minute, determined to give everything they had.
On her way to the exam room, Celia ran into Yara Lu. Yara's lips curved into a smug smile.
"Celia, how many points do you think you'll score on this exam?"
Celia gave her a sidelong glance. "Why don't you take a guess?"
"You're just a transfer student who only got into Tsinghua by relation—and you spent most of class sleeping. My guess? You'll be lucky to scrape forty points." Yara laughed coldly. "Can you even manage that?"
Celia's lips curled faintly. "Then we'll just have to wait and see."
With that, she turned and strode into the exam hall.
Two hours later, the advanced mathematics exam ended.
Peng Li hurried to the Rocket Class, excitement brimming in his eyes. "Director Zhu really outdid herself this year—the exam was brutally tough. I had to wrestle with those last two proof problems for ages. Now, everyone, let's compare our answers."
Peng Li hurried to the Rocket Class, excitement brimming in his eyes. "Director Zhu really outdid herself this year—the exam was brutally tough. I had to wrestle with those last two proof problems for ages. Now, everyone, let's compare our answers."
The Rocket Class erupted with laughter and confidence as they matched solutions, each student boasting about how easily they'd solved the problems. The mood was jubilant, triumphant, as if victory were already in their grasp.
But across the hallway, in Class 28, the atmosphere was entirely different.
There was no loud chatter, no cocky laughter—only the quiet rustling of pages. Each student bent over Celia's review manual, carefully checking the problems one by one, their faces serious and focused.
And in the middle of them sat Celia, her clear eyes calm and unwavering, a faint smile tugging at her lips as she closed her own test paper.
The contrast between the two classrooms was stark.
One side celebrated too soon.
The other was silently preparing to shock them all.