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The smooth hum of the Mercedes S-Class faded into the background as Lin Feng stepped out, his polished black shoes clicking lightly against the concrete.
"Thanks for the ride, Uncle Feng!" he said with a wave and a warm smile.
Uncle Feng returned the smile, his weathered face full of warmth. "Be safe, Young Master."
With that, the sleek car pulled away, leaving Lin Feng standing before the towering gates of Shanghai High School.
The same gates. The same polished metal, the same buzzing of students milling around.
But to Lin Feng, it felt… different. Heavy. Nostalgic.
His eyes softened as memories washed over him — the long days, the rushed mornings, the laughs… and Fatty Qiang, his only real friend in school, the one constant in both lifetimes.
He let out a quiet breath, steadying himself.
"Let's do this," he muttered and took his first step in " And right" He whispered to himself.
The moment he crossed the threshold, all hell broke loose.
---
At first, it started small. A few second glances. A murmur. Then, like someone had thrown a pebble in a still pond, ripples of whispers spread.
"Who's that?"
"Is he a transfer student?"
"He looks… angelic?"
And then—
"BRO. That's not a guy. That's a goddess in disguise."
"Shut up. You're just bitter 'cause he's prettier than your last five crushes combined."
A group of boys nearby openly stared. One of them leaned to his friend and whispered, "Bro, respectfully… what's the chance that guy is actually a girl?"
The friend didn't even blink. "Respectfully, are you gay? Second of all, the chance he's a girl is the same as your chance with the school belle."
"…So zero?"
"Big fat zero."
Meanwhile, the girls had entered full fangirl mode.
"Oh. My. God," one girl squealed, hands clasped in front of her chest. "He looks like the male lead from Cold CEO x Cute Wife, but like… even better! Like if the Cold CEO and the warm childhood sweetheart had a baby "
"I WANNA HUG HIM!" another declared, almost in tears. "He looks so soft and warm and—OH MY GOD LOOK AT HISABS!!" She pointed dramatically at his perfectly fitting black chinos and tucked white shirt. "ARE THOSE ABS? I WANNA TOUCH THEM."
One of the boys nearby, clutching his half-open pencil case, groaned. "I don't even have eight pencils, and this guy has eight abs. Life is unfair."
Another chimed in miserably, "Bro… I skipped P.E. for a whole semester and now I regret it."
And then—
"Dude, that's Lin Feng, right?"
"…LIN FENG? The lazy panda? The Simp "
"Can't be. Lin Feng had droopy eyes and slouched like he hadn't slept since 2012. This guy? This guy looks like Jesus on cheat day and anyways that guy was a simp !"
"But look at the jawline! The eyebrows! It's him!"
"No no no. Lin Feng was hot, sure, but this guy—this guy makes me wanna confess sins I haven't even committed yet!"
---
As Lin Feng continued walking calmly, completely unfazed, a group of girls practically burst into metaphorical sparkles.
"He smiled!! Did you see that?!"
"I SWEAR I SAW FLOWERS BLOOM BEHIND HIM!"
"The sky got brighter!"
"I WANNA PINCH HIS CHEEKS—he looks like he would be so nice to cuddle!"
"Girl, control yourself—"
"Don't judge me when you're literally drooling."
"I—WHAT? I AM NOT—" Her friend wiped her mouth furiously, glancing around. "WHO'S DROOLING? DEFINITELY NOT ME."
Meanwhile, Lin Feng, with the calm of a monk and the maturity of a fifty-year-old CEO he was , well not anymore.
Sure, the stares, the whispers, the chaos — it was loud, but… he had better things to do than worry about hormone-fueled teens and their insecurities.
A soft smile curved his lips as he spotted his old classroom building in the distance.
His mind wandered again to Fatty Qiang.
"Bet that guy still brings two lunches and finishes both before homeroom and," he thought fondly but his grin vanished as his face darkened as he continued " Then eats mine.... "
---
Absolutely, here's your next chapter — filled with reactions, drama, humor, and ending on that perfect cliffhanger!
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He smiled softly as he walked across the corridor heading straight toward Science - 2, his old classroom or current classroom .
His steps slowed as he reached the door.
The classroom. His classroom.
How long had it been since he walked through this door? The sight of it tugged at his heart, and he inhaled deeply, soaking in the nostalgia....
And then, with a deep breath , he stepped inside.
---
The effect was instant.
Silence.
Every single head turned toward him.
Chairs creaked. Pens stopped scribbling. Even someone's chewing gum froze mid-pop.
Eyes widened. Mouths parted. Jaws dropped.
He had entered.
Girls—especially those near the door—stared with the intensity of a religious epiphany.
One girl dropped her water bottle. Another her phone. A third? Her entire bag.
The thoughts going through their heads were eerily similar:
"Did I die?"
"Is this heaven?"
"Did God send an angel to take me to heaven? , I knew you loved me god!!!"
"God, I know I failed math, but please let me have this man."
Meanwhile, the boys were suffering.
Painfully. Loudly. Emotionally.
One clutched his chest dramatically. "Was one Lin Feng not enough?! Now there's another pretty bastard?!"
Another muttered under his breath on the verge of tears , "I swear I'm gonna transfer to an all-boys school. I can't handle this level of emasculation."
One poor soul sobbed internally: "How am I ever supposed to get a girlfriend now?! I look like a pimple-ridden potato standing next to him!"
Out loud, he muttered, "Pretty boy…"
A weak, bitter jab born of envy and a bit of shame in his genetics .
But a bold girl, with fire in her eyes and no patience for nonsense, snapped at him:
"You can call him a pretty boy if you were even ten percent as good-looking as him. But you're not. So now shut your mouth, Potato Prince."
The boy shrank like a deflated balloon, his friends snickering around him.
"She's not wrong, bro," one said, patting his shoulder with sympathy faker than oli london's claim that he looks like a k- pop idol.( I won't tell which one you can google, I just saw a meme about this like 5 minutes ago so I added this)
---
Unbothered by the teenage chaos erupting around him, Lin Feng walked in calmly, his expression cool, serene—like a man who'd already lived through board meetings, betrayal, and taxes.
His black chinos swished slightly as he made his way to the back seat.
Same seat…
He scanned the rows until his eyes landed on a very familiar sight.
A fat guy.
Sprawled out across the chair.
Scrolling through his phone.
Munching on chips at exactly 7:45 a.m. like it was a Sunday barbecue.
A smile tugged at Lin Feng's lips.
Fatty Qiang.
He slid into the seat beside him and said casually, "Yo, fatty."
The crunching stopped.
Fatty Qiang lazily looked up, chip halfway to his mouth. "Yo—....."
His eyes met Lin Feng's.
Silence.
The chip froze. His pupils trembled. His jaw went slack.
And then—he jerked upright so fast, he nearly toppled the entire desk.
His fingers fumbled to catch the chip before it fell, and somehow—miraculously—he did but the phone fell, kinda stupid honestly catching the chip instead of the phone but hey I don't judge yeah he's an idiot sorry I do judge .
He blinked again. Then again. Then leaned in.
And in a voice three notches too loud for comfort, he shouted—
"WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU?!"
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[End of Chapter-5 ]
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