Xia Yu, the most popular boy in school, was also the handsome and aloof art club president.
Universally recognized as good-looking, also recognized as cool, low-key, and difficult to get close to.
Zhou Ding: Hah, pretentious.
He had long since decided that Xia Yu was unlikable. As a man, the guy had awfully thin arms and legs, especially those hands, which were even more delicate than a woman’s. He was simply a white-faced pretty boy capable of doing nothing but holding a paintbrush.
Zhou Ding firmly believed that there would never be any crossroads between them.
Until one day, the pretty boy rested a hand on his shoulder and asked with a grin, “Want to date?”
Zhou Ding: “…Sure.”
