It took Shen Daining five years to learn one thing: hide yourself.
A score of 110 on the math test is just right - you won't be noticed by teachers, discussed by classmates, or told that "girls don't have enough stamina". She sat in the fourth row by the aisle, using a mechanical pencil that had lost paint, and always crossed out the smartest lines when writing drafts.
Until Lu Zhiheng sat next to her.
Ranked first in the whole grade, the professor's family has zebra limited editions neatly arranged in the pencil case. It took him half a semester to spell out the real Shen Daining from the papers she deliberately miscalculated, the crumpled and discarded draft paper, and the unlogged computer in the corner of the room during lunch break.
"You are obviously better than me. Don't you know it?"
He knows. She knows better. She just didn't dare to admit it - because admitting meant facing the teacher who told her that she had "not enough stamina", facing her mother who couldn't even afford the city racing fee, and facing the invisible wall between them.
This is a story about talent, class and secret love. It is also a story about a girl who goes from the back of the page to the front.
The back of the paper is empty. Front - it's you.
