After leaving the study room, Xia Fu added a new subject to her schedule. Every Wednesday at 7 p.m., she now had to attend Zhou Hongxia’s project seminar at Yingcai Academy. The topic was the Financial Modeling Competition from the summer break. Xia Fu would report her recent study progress at the seminar, exchanging insights with other top students in the elite class.

Knowing this was a rare opportunity, Xia Fu gave it her all, with her enthusiasm for learning visibly high.

What teacher wouldn’t like a motivated student?

Zhou Hongxia was pleased with her. Besides sharing her email and office address, she added Xia Fu to her project group chat, tagging a doctoral student and telling Xia Fu to reach out to senior students with any questions. Just as Fang Jingcheng had predicted, Zhou Hongxia seemed intent on mentoring her.

Having a professional mentor boosted Xia Fu’s progress tremendously, making her feel hopeful about achieving a top spot in the competition. However, since it was a team project, her personal excellence alone might not be enough to secure a win.

As the saying goes, “Three heads are better than one.” F University certainly didn’t lack bright minds, so standing out among well-coordinated teams required other strengths, too.

In the seminar, Xia Fu was now the main speaker, while Fang Jingcheng, a true member of the elite class, was more like a pleasant backdrop, adding a touch of charm and atmosphere. Despite his willingness to help Xia Fu with extra lessons outside of class, his grades had only climbed from borderline to average. During meetings, he would add comments to Xia Fu’s points, though it was clear she had prepped him beforehand—something anyone else could’ve done.

Still, it wasn’t enough. By Zhou Hongxia’s standards, mediocrity and subpar performance were practically the same. She only appreciated capable students. Watching Fang Jingcheng whispering to Xia Fu with a smile, Zhou Hongxia slowly drew a black “X” on her paper.

The Fang family’s child was little more than a sponsorship, in her view. Zhou Hongxia’s students were never mediocre; if they were to do something, it would be done to perfection.

“Jingcheng, Xia Fu, don’t leave yet. Let’s discuss the competition,” Zhou Hongxia called out as the seminar ended, asking the two to stay behind. When the last student shut the door behind them, she smiled at Xia Fu and asked, “Have you planned out your division of tasks for this competition? Have you considered adding more team members?” Her tone was warm and friendly.

Officially, Fang Jingcheng was the team leader for this competition. To help him present a good image to his family and teachers, she had made every effort to include him in key areas. But it seemed that, as expected, some things just couldn’t be rushed.

Xia Fu couldn’t help but steal a glance at Fang Jingcheng, nervously gripping the fabric on her lap.

“We hadn’t thought about adding anyone. It’s just the two of us, and we agreed on the division of tasks beforehand. Jingcheng has a good public image and is fluent in English, so we’ll prepare all materials and questions beforehand, and he’ll handle the English presentation,” Xia Fu said. She had already considered the gap between herself and the others, knowing Zhou Hongxia’s concerns were valid.

“An all-English presentation is certainly a highlight. Jingcheng’s presentation skills are solid; he just needs to stand there, and he’ll grab everyone’s attention,” Zhou Hongxia nodded, acknowledging Xia Fu’s answer. She wore a kind smile, but her fingers continued tracing a line on the paper. Suddenly, her tone changed.

“But the problem lies in explaining the principles and analyzing data. What if he encounters a tricky question and can’t answer?”

Xia Fu’s throat tightened, and her voice became slightly dry. She tried to defend Fang Jingcheng. “Um, maybe if we practice more scenarios beforehand? We could invite some experienced seniors to help us prepare.”

“I understand your intentions, Xia Fu. Don’t worry; I’m not insisting that you add people,” Zhou Hongxia sighed, looking into Xia Fu’s eyes with a calculated move she had prepared.

“But a competition isn’t like writing a paper. You won’t always be able to help him.”

It was clear that she knew about Xia Fu and Fang Jingcheng’s relationship. Zhou Hongxia, a seasoned journal reviewer with a sharp eye, had deduced the real author behind Fang Jingcheng’s “coached” responses by reading Xia Fu’s notes.

Sure enough, the moment Zhou mentioned “writing papers,” Xia Fu froze, her face draining of color as she tried to keep calm, looking vulnerable.

Under the table, Fang Jingcheng subtly offered his hand, his palm lightly pressing against Xia Fu’s pinky finger, a silent gesture to ease her anxiety.

Stay calm, Xia Fu, she reminded herself. Hadn’t Fang Jingcheng once said that Teacher Zhou wouldn’t mind about the “coaching”? But it still felt wrong to her, and she was uncomfortable with the idea of exposing their hidden arrangement.

Such a good kid, though clearly not good at lying.

Zhou Hongxia softened her tone to convey that she had no ill intent. “Helping a classmate is good, but if he struggles with questions on the spot, the whole presentation’s credibility could be questioned.”

“In crucial moments, you’ll need to step up.”

Was Teacher Zhou suggesting she step into the spotlight?

This unexpected shift left Xia Fu in a daze. She blinked, confused, and asked, “Me? Presenting in English too?”

Presenters and writers usually had distinct roles in these competitions—it wasn’t like an Apple keynote where engineers presented, too.

“Yes, you’ll present too. I noticed you’re quick with English literature; you must have a solid foundation.”

Her speed was thanks to online translation tools and memorizing terminology, but her spoken English was still clumsy, and her language scores weren’t outstanding. Not wanting to hide the truth, Xia Fu mumbled, “My speaking is quite poor… I don’t usually get much practice,” then shyly nudged Fang Jingcheng’s pinky, hoping he’d come up with something.

“Don’t worry; the more you practice, the better you’ll get at it,” Zhou Hongxia insisted. Fang Jingcheng remained silent, his eyes fixed on her with an encouraging smile as clear as a cloudless sky.

His silence puzzled Xia Fu. Why? Was he actually considering Teacher Zhou’s suggestion?

Once Teacher Zhou left, Xia Fu apologized to Fang Jingcheng. “Sorry, I wanted you to shine on stage…”

Her reason for competing was financial, not fame, and it was Fang Jingcheng who made her connection with Zhou Hongxia possible. She didn’t want any complications.

But Fang Jingcheng didn’t seem to mind. His father always had low expectations for him, and the improvement he’d made with Xia Fu’s help would already be enough for his family. For him, the competition was a minor hobby; his focus was always Xia Fu.

Zhou Hongxia’s high regard for Xia Fu was a bit beyond his expectations, though. People at her level tended to be intimidatingly ambitious.

But their goals aligned. Just the thought of standing beside Xia Fu on stage filled Fang Jingcheng with a thrill, wave after wave of joy—

He would show Fang Siyu just how polished this gemstone could become.

“It’s no big deal. The final ranking is what matters. As for speaking practice, I can teach you,” he grinned, full of energy, contrasting his usual drained look after seminars.

“You always tutor me; I finally get to be ‘Little Teacher Fang,’ don’t I? Wow, I’m excited.”

“To fix pronunciation, we should start with phonetics, record your voice, and compare it with a standard,” he said eagerly. “Can you wait for me to prep?”

Speaking well and teaching were two different things… After working with him for a while, Xia Fu understood his level. Still, seeing his enthusiasm, she couldn’t bring herself to discourage him.

Learning was never a waste, and he didn’t mind her on stage. Xia Fu relaxed, nodding, “Alright, Little Teacher Fang, I’ll wait for your special English lessons.”

“Sounds great! I’ll be right back.” Fang Jingcheng’s eyes lit up. He immediately disappeared after arranging for someone to send Xia Fu a video lesson and an app for practicing pronunciation.

The material he provided was remarkably comprehensive, with an instructor who spoke in a clear British accent and simple explanations. She could even compare her pronunciation with the app.

After only half a day, “Little Teacher Fang” returned mysteriously, eager to demonstrate correct pronunciation.

“Move closer, hold my chin, and watch my tongue and cheek muscles,” he instructed.

Xia Fu put her hands on his chin, finally getting her wish to touch his face.

As she gazed at his handsome face, the closeness felt like they were waiting for a first kiss, but all she focused on was his soft features, just as she had imagined.

His teeth were dazzlingly white, despite his coffee habit. His tongue, slightly longer than hers, moved like a flexible sea anemone, wet and soft.

Had he gone to the dentist just to show her?

Lost in her thoughts, Xia Fu felt her breath quicken, and she gently let go of his chin, trying to shift her attention. “Alright, I got it.”

But Fang Jingcheng wasn’t letting her off so easily. He had found joy in this “teaching” session and wanted to continue.

“Did you get it? Now, open your mouth like I did and let me see.”

“No way!”

Get away! She hadn’t gone to the dentist—this was so embarrassing!

Flustered, Xia Fu placed her hand on his cheek and pushed his head back.

Fang Jingcheng wasn’t upset. Instead, he leaned fully into her palm, brushing her hand with his lips, his beautiful face adorned with a playful smile.

“What’s the matter—”

His breath lingered in her hand, making his words blur into a soft whisper.