I launched an aggressive pursuit of Hugh.

Specifically, I did the following:

Every day, I placed paper airplanes on his usual seat.

It was simple and easy to fold—I only knew how to make these.

And with A4-sized scrap paper, one sheet could make four airplanes, enough for four days.

Each paper airplane was filled with my dense handwriting, and my big, flamboyant characters.

[Hello Hugh, I'm Taylor Parker from Class 3. I like you.]

The paper airplanes were buried under a pile of luxury watches and bank cards, and Hugh didn't notice them.

Until the Valentine's Day, when the gifts on his usual desk piled up like a small mountain.

As usual, he carried the pile of gifts to a corner of the podium, and upon returning, he saw the lonely, shabby paper airplanes left behind. The paper was covered in writing, clearly showing the process of a definite integral calculation.

The paper is covered with handwriting, and you can clearly see the calculation process of the definite integral.

The result of the calculation was hidden inside, and when he flicked his finger, he saw the bolded line of text I had written.

The next second, Hugh turned around and locked eyes with me.

I froze for a moment, my heart skipping a beat.

He then nonchalantly withdrew his gaze.

As if that glance was just a coincidence.

I waited anxiously until class was over.

When the bell rang, I immediately waited on Hugh's usual path and, as hoped, managed to block him.

"Hi, I'm Taylor, the one who gave you the paper airplane."

He looked down at me, his gaze lingering on my worn-out shoes for a couple of seconds, and said, "Hmm."

Up close, I realized how striking Hugh's face was.

My once steady heart now raced rapidly, and my palms were sweating.

My brain stalled, and all the words I had prepared slipped my mind.

Hugh moved his right hand, and only then did I notice that he was still holding the draft paper.

He pinched the paper between his index and middle fingers and shook it at me.

"So, what's the result?"

Seeing me frozen, he repeated. "I couldn't solve this problem, so what's the result?"

I never write down the answers to problems, so I didn't know the result either.

I quickly snatched the paper from his hand and did the calculations in my head.

Suddenly, an idea struck me, and I smiled slyly.

"The result is a bit long. How about we discuss it while walking? To the cafeteria?"

Hugh raised an eyebrow, and before he could respond, he was interrupted by a loud commotion nearby.

"Taylor!"

Interrupted, I turned impatiently.

A flashy, arrogant rich kid in a flashy Gucci outfit, with an oversized bouquet in hand, approached amidst the clamor.

The Gucci kid looked down at me. "Do you know who I am? Be my woman, and I'll give you 50,000 a month, ensuring you live comfortably."

My lips twitched. Is this how rich kids now pursue people—so straightforward and crude?

I glanced around instinctively, but Hugh had already disappeared without me noticing.

The stairs were packed with students leaving class; there was no sign of Hugh.

I frowned in annoyance and said, "Sorry, not me."

The Gucci kid looked surprised. "Hey, I'm serious. You're just a poor girl. Stop pretending. If you're interested, reconsider your answer."

He sized me up and sneered. "Before you act all high and mighty, consider your own situation. Wearing shabby shoes and pants, and still trying to act like..."

"No need to consider. Thanks for the offer, but I don't need money and don't want to date you."

I pulled out a bright red rose.

"Just borrowing this. Thanks, bro."

Behind me, the Gucci kid angrily threw the flowers to the ground, kicked the door of a nearby classroom, and made a loud, thunderous noise that drew everyone's attention.

I took advantage of the crowd and ran to the cafeteria.

When I found him, he was already sitting by the window with a simple meal.

I grabbed a few dishes and sat down across from him.

Ignoring Hugh's slightly surprised look, I complained. "You didn't wait for me, and I had a hard time finding you."

I handed him the rose.

"I forgot that confessions need flowers. Here's this for now. I can't afford flowers yet, so I hope you don't mind. When I have money, I'll get you a big one."

He took the flower and placed it aside.

"I thought..."

Seeing his plate full of green vegetables, I added two chicken legs to his plate. "Thought what?"

Hugh stared at my actions in surprise, then smiled and shook his head.

"Nothing."

It was the first time I saw him smile, lazily, with a glimmer in his eyes.

I was momentarily mesmerized.

When I came to my senses, he had taken back the two chicken legs I had added.

"You eat them; I'm not very hungry."

I had never seen him eat meat before. I didn't expect him to be so considerate of me, despite his own financial situation.

I was moved and wanted to win him over even more.

I really didn't want to eat that cafeteria chicken leg; it was both dry and tough, and it seemed like they had poured soy sauce recklessly.

After thinking for a moment, I grabbed another chicken leg and said firmly, "No way, you have to eat it. I went out of my way to buy these two chicken legs, and I usually can't even bear to eat them myself. You can't trample on my kindness, or it would mean you look down on me for being poor."

I added. "After you finish this chicken leg, I'll tell you the calculation results."

Hugh's gaze shifted from my face to the chicken leg, he swallowed hard, and after a moment, said with difficulty, "Alright."

I happily withdrew my hand, knowing that he really wanted to eat it. His reason and craving were at odds, which was why he looked so reluctant.

Watching him chew slowly, savoring each bite, taking many chews with every mouthful.

I was extremely satisfied.

This chicken leg would surely become a cherished memory for him, like a rare delight after a long drought.

Seeing him enjoy it so much, I took a bite myself.

My teeth almost broke.

Looking up, I saw he was eating with tears in his eyes, and my heart seemed to break.

On impulse, I held his hand.

"Hugh, though I'm poor right now, you won't be at a loss with me. I might not be able to give you fifty thousand, but I can promise you a chicken leg every week. I will do my best to treat you well."

See, no wonder I chose him.

Amy Ross offered fifty thousand right off the bat, and he was indifferent.

I promised one chicken leg a week, and his tears immediately fell.

Poverty reveals true love.

I am indeed his true love.

That night, a post appeared on the campus forum.

The cover photo was of Hugh and me eating chicken legs face to face, holding hands and looking at each other with teary eyes.

Caption: [Are these two poor souls together? They were spotted eating together.]

The comments quickly soared to 99+.

[Damn, it looks real. They were always so independent, and now they're eating together. Something seems off.]

[Crying over a chicken leg? They've redefined my understanding of poverty.]

[Amy offered fifty thousand to confess to Hugh, and yesterday Arthur also offered fifty thousand to confess to Taylor. They both refused, but now they're together?]

[Impressive. To be honest, both of them have a kind of naive foolishness.]

[LMAF. Do they believe love is worth a fortune? Two poor people have no future, and they're both studying finance.]

[The finance world isn't short of handsome men and beautiful women; it's short on resources. They probably don't realize what they're missing out on. Poor people have poor fates, narrow visions, and will remain poor even if they have children.]

[Upstairs, they might not even make it to marriage, just splitting up.]

My roommate Remi showed me the post on her phone. I glanced through it quickly and then returned it to her.

Campus gossip is quite interesting. Even though Hugh and I are still in the early stages, people are already discussing when we'll break up or have kids.

Remi looked at me hesitantly and asked, "Taylor, are you really with Hugh?"

I shook my head regretfully.

Since after dinner, Hugh had run off, leaving without paying or hearing the calculation results.

I only had time to leave a phone number.

Then I rushed back to the dormitory. My already worn-out shoes were practically falling apart by the time I arrived.

I rushed into the bathroom and threw up until I was dizzy.

My roommate Iris, who saw the forum, commented, "You probably can't handle eating meat; simply put, you're like a pig who can't eat fine food—unworthy and poor."

I didn't bother responding to her sneering remarks.

She was just jealous. I remembered she had also confessed to Hugh, offering twenty thousand.

Unfortunately, Hugh isn't a materialistic man. Money won't win his heart.