Chapter 22: I Can’t Hold It
For two straight days, Yu Fan did not speak to Chen Jingshen.
He also did not sleep.
He also did not touch his phone.
After watching him for forty-eight hours, Wang Lu’an could only sigh. “Even Yu Fan is listening in class now. What excuse do the rest of us have not to work hard?”
It was break time. Yu Fan was currently staring out the window at a bird.
The moment he sensed the person beside him turn a page, Yu Fan snapped his head back. “Who said I was listening?”
Wang Lu’an leaned against Zhang Xianjing’s chair. “You haven’t been on your phone or sleeping for two days. If you aren’t listening, what are you doing?”
“Meditating.”
“…”
Zhang Xianjing swiveled around. “Wang Lu’an, didn’t you say you were going to turn over a new leaf for the next two weeks? Why are you still pinging people to game every night in the group chat?”
“I wanted to reform, but math refuses to give me that chance. Ten problems, I don’t understand ten problems. I can’t even read the solution steps. Maybe I should just drop out.”
“That’s not impossible.”
“…”
They chatted a bit. Wang Lu’an’s eyes drifted, not for the first time, toward Chen Jingshen.
At last, the guy who had been doing problems put down his pen and reached for his water.
Wang Lu’an snatched the bottle first, twisted the cap, then offered it up with both hands like a flunky. “Here, top student, your water.”
Yu Fan: “?”
Zhang Xianjing: “…”
Chen Jingshen paused, then took it two seconds later. “Thanks. What is it?”
“It’s actually not a big deal, but since you asked, I’ll just say it,” Wang Lu’an said.
Chen Jingshen: “.”
“So, my dad plays baseball. His grip… you get it. If I bomb the midterms again, the day of the parent-teacher meeting will be the day I depart from this world. It won’t just be a beating. No allowance either, maybe even kicked out.”
He lowered his voice, testing the waters. “And I was thinking, I heard that in the top-ranked exam rooms, the proctors aren’t as strict?”
Zhang Xianjing: “What are you thinking, Wang Lu’an, asking the class genius to help you cheat? As if that’s possible. Although if it is, could he send me a copy too?”
Yu Fan: “…”
As if. Chen Jingshen is the type who would pile ten bricks on top of his test paper if the person he likes tries to peek. And you want him to help you cheat?
“No,” Chen Jingshen said.
See?
Yu Fan twirled his pen and snorted inwardly.
Wang Lu’an drooped. “Okay, figured it was worth a shot…”
“But I can flag the key points for you.”
“Huh?”
“Not being able to read the problems probably means you picked the wrong workbook,” Chen Jingshen said coolly. “What did you get in math last time?”
“Heh. I outdid myself on the finals. A glorious sixty-one!”
“… What workbook are you doing?”
“‘Higher, Deeper: Advanced Mathematical Thought and Methods for High School.’”
“…”
Even Ke Ting, who never talked, turned around to murmur, “There are a lot of Olympiad problems in that.”
Zhang Xianjing: “How did you ever think you deserved a book with a title like that?”
Yu Fan wanted to ask the same thing.
“How would I know? I walked around the bookstore, saw the title was badass, so I bought it.” Wang Lu’an scratched his head. “So, top student, what workbook fits me?”
“Did you bring last term’s final?”
“Heh, I was scared my dad would see it and beat me again, so I never took it home. It’s been hidden at school all winter break.”
“Let me see.”
Chen Jingshen flipped through the paper, tore off a sticky note, and wrote a short list of titles.
Wang Lu’an read while muttering, “Sh**, your handwriting is gorgeous. Let me see… ‘2017 High School Must-Brush Questions,’ ‘High School Math Knowledge Point Summary,’ ‘Clumsy Bird Flies First, Evolution Edition 2017’…”
Yu Fan: “?”
What is that supposed to mean? Why does he get the “Evolution Edition”?
Yu Fan’s lips moved. In the end he said nothing and went back to watching the bird.
“All right, I’ll buy them after school,” Wang Lu’an said. “Top student, how do you even know these workbooks?”
“I looked them up.”
“You looked this up? Were you bad at math before?”
If he even glanced at the grade rankings, he would never ask this.
“No.” After a beat, Chen Jingshen said lightly, “I looked them up for someone else.”
The bird circled and flew off. Yu Fan stared at the bare branch and clicked his tongue, barely audible.
On the way home, Yu Fan bought a bowl of wontons. The weather had warmed up and he was too lazy to cook.
At the apartment entrance, he heard mahjong tiles clacking inside his door. His expression changed and the key in his hand froze.
He felt someone watching him. Turning, he met the eyes of the little girl from upstairs, peeking around the stairwell.
She sat on the step, only her head sticking out, blinking at him. When Yu Fan suddenly walked over, she went a bit deer-in-headlights. He took two or three steps up, crouched like last time, and glanced at the schoolbag by her feet.
“What are you doing here?”
“Daddy and Mommy haven’t… come home yet.” The moment she finished, her stomach gave a tiny growl. She covered it, cheeks going pink.
Yu Fan grunted, hooked a finger, and set the wontons beside her. “Eat.”
He stood to go, but a tug on his shirt hem stopped him. She looked up at him, then glanced at his apartment door.
Before she could speak, Yu Fan reached out and ruffled her hair twice, casually. He slipped downstairs, unlocked his door, and went in.
A few grown men were hunched over the table, playing mahjong. They looked up when they heard the door and, faced with Yu Fan’s cold expression, their voices and movements shrank. Only Yu Kaiming, seeing him, raised his voice on purpose.
Yu Fan ignored them, went straight to his room, locked the door. Father and son did not exchange a single word.
“Brother Ming, that your kid? Good-looking, but why so fierce, not even a hello. You two fight or what?”
“First time meeting him?” another regular said. “He and his kid have always been like this. Never good.”
“Don’t mind him. He’s spoiled,” Yu Kaiming said, slapping the tiles. “Mahjong!”
Not long after, Yu Fan came out again. He had changed clothes and clearly taken a shower.
“Where the hell are you going so late?” Yu Kaiming clamped a cigarette in his teeth and gave him a once-over.
Yu Fan did not respond. He bent to put on his shoes.
“I’m talking to you,” Yu Kaiming barked, slamming the table.
Yu Fan opened the door. He paused on the threshold, turned back, and looked coldly at him. “Yu Kaiming, let me remind you. Touch my bedroom door one more time and I will knock your teeth out.”
He shut the door and left.
Silence sat for ten seconds. Then Yu Kaiming crushed his cigarette and shot to his feet. “F*** this, if I don’t slice his mouth off today—”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” the others grabbed him. “He’s just a kid talking nonsense. Don’t stoop to his level…”
“Yeah, no need. Come on, keep playing.”
Truth was, Yu Kaiming did not dare chase him. Once people held him back, he puffed himself up a bit longer, then sat down again.
“Brother Ming, there are plenty of ways to deal with a kid,” one buddy offered. “Here’s my tip. Cut his allowance for a week or two. He’ll be obedient in no time.”
Yu Kaiming snorted and pitched a tile. “Only a dumbf*** would give him an allowance.”
“Huh?” The guy blinked. “You don’t give him money? Then where does he get spending cash?”
“His grandpa and his mom both left something for him when they left,” Yu Kaiming said, blowing smoke.
“Your wife… passed so early? Was it an illness, or what?”
At that, Yu Kaiming’s eyes went mean. Someone whispered, “No, years ago she ran off with someone—”
“Pah!” Yu Kaiming spat. “Stinking are we. Just saying her name is bad luck. Son of a b***…”
“All right, all right, drop it. Why bring up that crap? Play. Are we playing or not?”
Yu Fan went to his usual hole-in-the-wall internet café. It was quiet tonight. He found a decent sofa seat and played shooters for a while.
It was a four-man squad game. He insisted on solo-queuing, parachuting into the most crowded part of the map, grabbing a gun to mow people down, getting swarmed and killed, then queuing again. He did it for an hour, venting.
In-game avatars died and respawned again and again. His phone on the table buzzed. Wang Lu’an tagged him in the little group chat, the one for their smoking and card-playing buddies.
【Wang Lu’an: Bro, you at a net café? Cool Boy or somewhere else? I can see you’re online in-game.】
【Wang Lu’an: F***, I DM’d you ten times in the game and you ignored me!】
Yu Fan typed back “didn’t see it,” then dropped a location pin in the chat.
While waiting, he lay back and lazily scrolled up through the history. He stopped at a sudden system line:
[Wang Lu’an invited s to the group.]
?
Why did he drag Chen Jingshen in here? To arrange cards or smokes?
Yu Fan frowned, then couldn’t be bothered to ask. Chen Jingshen had not said a word since joining. He probably took one look, saw Zuo Kuan and the others planning a class skip, and muted the chat.
【Wang Lu’an: Oh, just asking. I’m not coming. I bought the workbooks the top student recommended and I’m going to grind.】
Yu Fan did not reply. He tossed the phone down and queued up again.
After another hour of firefights, Yu Fan was about to start a new match when a noisy group came into the café. They were a pack, loud, and when they realized there weren’t enough adjacent seats, they started to leave.
Yu Fan glanced at the several empty PCs near him, then logged off and stood.
The night air was cool. This street filled up after dark, with late-night stalls already steaming and making things feel crowded.
He stepped out to the corner by the door, pulled out a cigarette, and had just raised the lighter when—
“Woof—”
A low, muffled sound, much too close.
Yu Fan froze mid-flick and looked over. A Doberman was barreling straight at him.
The dog wore a metal muzzle and a leather collar, a leash trailing behind.
He thought it looked familiar. Before he could connect the dots, the dog had reached him and, with great force, rubbed itself against his leg.
The move looked like a bite. Someone nearby shrieked. The only person who did not flinch was the target. Yu Fan did not move. Head lowered, he and the dog stared at each other for a beat.
The rub snapped him out of it. The unlit cigarette was still in his mouth as he followed the leash with his eyes.
There stood Chen Jingshen, face calm, both hands gripping the leash, clearly having been dragged half the block.
They looked at each other, silent.
“Could you give me a hand?” Chen Jingshen asked at last. “I can’t hold it.”
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