**Chapter 845: An Angel's Facade**
On a crisp autumn day, one month into the senior year of high school, Zhan Jingrui took a day off.
The reason? Auntie Tang wasn't feeling well, and Uncle Tang didn’t want to bother Hu Jiasheng or Tang Nannan at work. Having just gotten his driver’s license over the summer, Jingrui worried Uncle Tang might struggle alone, so he drove them to the hospital.
He navigated the chaos—waiting in line for registration, paying fees, accompanying Auntie Tang for tests—handling it all with the composure of a young man stepping into responsibility.
After the examination, the doctor recommended hospitalization for observation. While Uncle Tang supported Auntie Tang, Jingrui went to handle the admission paperwork.
On his way downstairs, he shared an elevator with a mother and daughter.
The mother, stylishly dressed with immaculate makeup, spoke sternly to her daughter, who wore faded straight-leg jeans, a plain white T-shirt, and long, loose hair. The girl kept her head down, silent throughout.
*"Do you have any idea how hard my life is? At your age, I don’t expect you to share my burdens, but can’t you at least stop dragging me down?"*
*"For our future, I have to have this baby. Just go back to school and don’t distract me, okay?"*
*"Drop this topic. I’m not young anymore—this pregnancy isn’t easy. You don’t want anything to happen to me, do you?"*
Jingrui had no interest in eavesdropping, but the elevator was too small to avoid hearing.
When they reached the first floor, he prepared to leave and forget the exchange—until the mother suddenly gasped.
Turning instinctively, he saw her wobble on her high heels, caught by her daughter.
Their eyes met.
*...Another Jingge?*
He couldn’t tell if all pretty girls looked alike or if his vision was faulty, but the resemblance to his sister was uncanny.
---
After a full day at the hospital, Uncle Tang insisted Jingrui return to school the next morning.
*"I’ll call if anything happens. Go—your studies come first."*
Back in class, during first-period English, the teacher entered with someone trailing behind—a girl with pin-straight black hair and a half-empty backpack.
Before introductions, whispers erupted:
*"No way, her? I just heard the gossip about her last week. She got expelled from No. 12 High."*
*"That innocent face? Total act. My friend says she’s trouble—the quiet, manipulative type. Boys, watch out, or she’ll ruin you without lifting a finger."*
The bell rang. The teacher introduced their new classmate, urging applause.
*"Finally, a goddess in our class!"* Jingrui’s deskmate muttered.
Jingrui glanced up at the podium—once, twice—then lowered his gaze.
After scattered clapping, the teacher prompted, *"He Yao, introduce yourself."*
He Yao swept the room with hollow, unreadable eyes.
*"I’m He Yao."*
Silence.
Assigned to the back row for her height, she settled at an empty desk—no textbooks, no supplies.
Ten minutes into the lesson, the English teacher, unnerved by her blank stare, pointed to a male classmate.
*"Share your book with her. And He Yao—get your textbooks by next class. This is *senior year*. Unacceptable."*
All eyes turned as He Yao dragged her desk over. The boy obligingly split his book between them.
Her porcelain skin and delicate features, though expressionless, somehow made even the awkward boy beside her seem tolerable.
By the second, third, fourth period—then the next day—He Yao remained glued to his side, borrowing his materials.
The boy didn’t mind. His girlfriend did.
---
During break, Jingrui headed to the restroom with friends.
*"Drama alert,"* one snickered. *"Might wanna stick around. Things could get physical."*
Jingrui ignored him. Returning later, he found the classroom eerily calm—no sign of the confrontation.
But his desk had been rearranged.
His deskmate, still seated, raised his hands in surrender.
*"Not me. I know better than to touch your stuff."* A jerk of his thumb. *"They fought. He Yao put your things back."*
Jingrui followed the gesture.
He Yao now sat alone again, desk pushed against the wall.
No books. No expression.
Sunlight bathed half her face as she gazed out the window, lost in thought.
Her flawless skin, pale as a peeled egg, bore five vivid finger marks.
The scene could’ve been cinematic—a fragile beauty, wronged yet serene.
But Jingrui felt no pity.
From the moment he’d seen her, he’d recognized the act.
Just like his sisters, Zhan Jingge and Jiang Jingtian—
Angelic faces, peerless in others’ eyes.
Yet no one knew their true rebellious, scheming natures better than him.