Chapter 11

A stack of draft papers fell onto the desk of the math class representative.

Song Cheng sat down beside him. “Class rep, are you free? Can you explain this problem to me?”

The class representative, surnamed Hou, was a short boy with the nickname “Monkey.” Song Cheng thought he really did resemble a clever little monkey, no wonder he was so good at math.

Monkey was used to classmates seeking his help during evening study sessions. He picked up his pen with ease and glanced over the entire sheet of paper, but then paused, staring for a moment.

He glanced at Song Cheng.

Song Cheng met his gaze. “You don’t know how to solve it either?”

It wasn’t that Monkey didn’t know. It was that his keen attention to detail made him notice something odd: Song Cheng had jotted down a set of formulas on the edge of the draft paper, and where a number should have been written after cos90, a mysterious abbreviation had taken its place.

He wanted to ask but didn’t dare to directly question Song Cheng. It was eating him up inside, so after explaining the problem, he casually pointed to the abbreviation, trying to probe without being too obvious.

“cos90 equals 0, right? Did you forget and just write down some random letters?”

Song Cheng glanced down. He was right.

When Wen Xiangyi had looked back at her, Song Cheng had pretended to be busy and silently recited the trigonometric values to herself. And now, on the light beige draft paper, she had scribbled:

cos90 = wll

How childish.

Song Cheng chuckled internally, but outwardly remained composed. “It’s not wrong.”

Monkey: “Huh?”

After thanking him, Song Cheng left, calm and collected.

While standing, she had a broader view and pretended to casually glance in Wen Xiangyi’s direction.

Wen Xiangyi was quietly focused on her problems, holding the warm milk in both hands, shrinking into herself. Her side profile appeared gentle and obedient.

Hmph, Wen Xiangyi might be lazy and uninterested in everything else, except when it came to bothering her. Unlike Song Cheng, who was diligent and hardworking. Calling Wen Xiangyi a “zero” was spot on.

But occasionally, Wen Xiangyi could be quite well-behaved.

See? She was obediently warming her hands with the hot milk Song Cheng had bought her.

As for drinking it? Song Cheng didn’t have high hopes. Wen Xiangyi never drank anything of mysterious origin, so she wasn’t expecting much.

Feeling a sense of accomplishment for completing such an important task, Song Cheng happily returned to her seat.

The sound of her pen scratching against the paper seemed to possess a magic that made her not want to stop. Soon, the draft paper where she had written the childish formula was completely filled. She folded it over and continued writing furiously on a new sheet.

The evening study session flew by.

As the end approached, He Nianyao finally pulled herself out of the sea of problems. By now, only the boarding students remained in the classroom, making the place feel quiet and a bit desolate. Everyone started glancing around, daydreaming, fidgeting with their hands, or secretly playing on their phones, waiting for the bell to ring.

He Nianyao glanced at her deskmate and couldn’t help but admire her.

Even though Song Cheng’s grades were at the bottom of the class, her level of concentration was undeniable. With only five minutes left before dismissal, few in the class could stay focused on their problems like she could—He Nianyao certainly couldn’t.

After gathering her things, He Nianyao fidgeted, waiting for Song Cheng to stretch before starting a conversation with her.

Just as Song Cheng had finished her homework, she was hit with bad news:

“I heard the midterm schedule for next week has been posted.”

Next week?

Midterm exams?

What?

What!

—

Girls’ Dormitory, Room 509

Since the evening study session ended, Song Cheng had been distracted no matter what she was doing.

It had been less than a week since she returned to high school on Tuesday, and yet her life had completely flipped upside down.

On previous nights, she might have been cooking dinner for Wen Xiangyi in their 500-square-meter penthouse with the fresh air system running. Or perhaps they would be out partying together, living a life of luxury. At worst, she might be working overtime on her two-meter-wide bed, sleeping on a mattress worth millions.

But now?

She was standing on a tiny two-square-meter balcony, hand-washing smelly socks in the chilly autumn wind.

That could be overlooked—those were just external things.

But the midterms were next week!

She hadn’t even been studying for a full week yet, and now the exam time was fast approaching. How was she supposed to handle this?

Song Cheng was overwhelmed with sorrow.

Fate was being too cruel to her.

The glass door didn’t block sound, and inside the dorm, her roommates were also discussing next week’s big exam.

Li Xueshan: “The exams are next week. Are you going home this weekend or staying here to study?”

Zhou Ying: “I’m staying at school to review, not going home.”

Li Xueshan: “You never go home anyway. What about you, Lü Wei?”

Lü Wei: “My mom’s on a business trip this weekend, so I’m not bothering to go back.”

Li Xueshan: “Then I’ll stay too. How about we go out and have fun together on Saturday afternoon?”

Huh?

Song Cheng suddenly remembered the weekend self-study sessions. At No. 3 High School, students could voluntarily stay on campus for self-study over the weekend.

In the past, Song Cheng barely attended classes, spending her weekends hanging around the training fields and playgrounds. So much time had passed that she had completely forgotten this option existed.

Great, she thought. She would stay for self-study and make the most of her time by asking classmates to help her with problems. With this decision made, Song Cheng felt much less panicked. She hung up her socks and went back into the dormitory.

Li Xueshan wanted to go out and have fun on the weekend, but Lü Wei and Zhou Ying, unlike her, were not as carefree. Neither of them wanted to go shopping or see a movie before the midterm exams. Li Xueshan was pouting when she saw Song Cheng come in, and her attention immediately shifted to another topic.

Li Xueshan: “Song Cheng, Song Cheng, did you report Lin Hang yesterday?”

Song Cheng: “Yes.”

Li Xueshan, feeling sorry for Lin Hang, asked, “Why would you do that?”

Song Cheng: “Do you really want him to pursue Wen Xiangyi?”

Li Xueshan: “Of course not.”

Song Cheng fell silent, her gaze clearly saying, “Take a good look at what you’re doing.”

Li Xueshan froze for a moment, then realized, “Wait, are you saying you don’t want him to pursue Wen Xiangyi either?”

She seemed to have discovered something, yet at the same time, nothing at all.

Lü Wei couldn’t help but laugh. “I heard that Song Cheng warned that if she found out anyone in Class 5 was dating early, she would report them to the teacher.”

What was all this about? Was that really what she had meant back then?

Song Cheng corrected, “I didn’t say I’d report them to the teacher.”

Zhou Ying was more concerned with something else. “Song Cheng, are you not doing sports anymore?”

Lü Wei added, “I was about to ask the same thing.”

Li Xueshan: “Wait, what? Why aren’t you doing sports anymore? Don’t you want to go to college?”

Song Cheng: “?”

Lü Wei and Zhou Ying both grew tense at once.

Would Song Cheng beat up Li Xueshan for saying something like that? If she did, they wouldn’t be able to stop her!

Song Cheng thought to herself, how come she never noticed how witty her high school roommates were?

Not wanting to argue with the kids, she brushed it off. “I don’t want to do sports anymore, so I transferred back.”

Song Cheng’s explanation was brief, and she turned back to her own things. She filled up the last bit of space between the bed and the desk, creating a small, enclosed area.

Being a quiet person by nature, Song Cheng usually kept to herself, and most of the time, she moved about silently. The three others exchanged glances but didn’t pursue the conversation any further.

—

The next day, the homeroom teacher took over the morning reading session. Old Li officially brought up the upcoming midterm exams, which was followed by a long pep talk and some motivational advice.

“You are about to face your first midterm exam in the second year of high school. You must take it seriously. Use your remaining time wisely, review according to your plan, and revisit the problems you’ve gotten wrong. Just approach the exam like you do your daily exercises. Whether you succeed or fail, it’s all part of your path forward…”

The exam schedule had been released: two days of exams. Each student was also handed a midterm goal sheet.

Song Cheng received a small rectangular slip of paper passed down from the desk in front of her. The first row was for subjects, the second row was for entering expected scores, and the final row was for class and school rank goals.

Old Li continued, “Everyone has their goal sheets, right? Fill in the target scores for each subject and the rank you hope to achieve.”

As he spoke, his gaze slowly scanned the classroom and briefly rested on Song Cheng, who sat in the last row. “You don’t have to turn it in to me. Just keep it for yourself after you fill it out.”

Song Cheng breathed a sigh of relief.

Good, no need to submit it.

She had no idea what her current academic ability was, so she couldn’t fill out the form accurately.

In fact, the more she thought about it, the more she realized that an early exam was actually a good thing. It would give her a thorough assessment of her proficiency in each subject, allowing her to understand how far behind she was compared to her classmates. Afterward, she could address her weaknesses and come up with a more targeted study plan.

Song Cheng slowly convinced herself. Feeling much more relaxed about the midterms, she returned to her usual mindset.

Classes resumed as usual, and after the large break period and physical exercise, Song Cheng picked up some hot water and, while at it, went to the vending machine in the hallway to buy a drink for He Nianyao.

Just as she inserted the coins, someone quietly appeared beside her. She didn’t pay much attention until she heard a familiar voice—it was Wen Xiangyi.

Wen Xiangyi: “Song Cheng, are you buying a drink too?”

Song Cheng: “I’m getting orange juice for He Nianyao.”

Wen Xiangyi murmured an “oh” and then gazed at the display window of the vending machine. “I’m here to buy some milk.”

Song Cheng instinctively glanced at the vending machine with her. Wen Xiangyi’s favorite brand wasn’t available. Last night’s bottle had been bought at a small supermarket, and Wen Xiangyi probably wouldn’t be bothered to go there again.

Wen Xiangyi seemed troubled. “Which one do you think I should buy?”