Chapter 31 — Silly, Aren’t You
Yu Fan managed not to sleep in class for two days straight, which made Zhuang Fangqin pretty happy for a minute.
She quickly realized, though, that while he was not sleeping, he also was not listening.
When she caught him pulling out a Chinese textbook in math class yet again, she ran out of patience and hauled him to the office as soon as the bell rang.
“I thought you stopped sleeping in class because you were actually learning,” Zhuang Fangqin said, arms folded in her chair. “So it was just for show, huh. What, scared the class officers will write you up? I thought you never cared about that.”
Yu Fan was dead tired and blurted, “Only because you—”
You made someone supervise me so I would not sleep.
Then you blame him when he does not manage it.
The words felt off when they reached his tongue. He pressed his lips together and forced them back down.
“Me? What about me?” Zhuang Fangqin looked baffled.
Yu Fan slouched against the desk. “Nothing.”
That half-said attitude got under her skin. She twisted open her thermos, warmed her hands around it, and said, “Keep this up and what are you going to do after graduation? With your scores, you will have to pay under the table to get into a vocational college. You know that?”
“Mm.”
She knew he was brushing her off and could not help glaring at him.
The cuts on his face from the start of the term had all faded, but if you looked closely there was still a very faint mark between the two moles on his cheek.
Her gaze softened without meaning to. More than grades, she worried about Yu Fan’s mind. She had seen him fight. Blood all over his face, but his movements and expression were cold, like pain did not register.
She had suspected he might have violent tendencies.
Of course his family played a part. Growing up in that environment, how was a kid supposed to have the heart to study.
“Forget it. I know talking is useless.” She set down her thermos. “If your midterms are the same self-sabotaging mess, I am coming to your house again for a home visit.”
Yu Fan’s face changed on the spot. He frowned. “I said don’t come again—”
“When you are the principal, then you can give me orders.”
“…”
He straightened without thinking. “It is no use if you go. He cannot control me.”
She did not budge. Truth be told, she had wanted to make another home visit for a while now. It was not just about grades. She wanted to talk to Yu Fan’s father again, do what she could to make him take parenting seriously.
“We will talk after you finish the exam.” She lifted a hand, ending the topic. “Class is starting. Go on.”
When Yu Fan got back, Wang Lu’an was in Zhuang Xianjing’s seat, having Chen Jingshen mark key points for him.
“You are back. What did Fangqin say?” Wang Lu’an asked.
Chen Jingshen put his pen down and looked over. Yu Fan’s face was darker than when he left. That was rare. Normally he went to the office and came back like it was nothing.
“Nothing,” Yu Fan said. He did not notice the glance. He was busy thinking how to stop Zhuang Fangqin from meeting Yu Kaiming.
Change the lock so Yu Kaiming could not come home?
Move?
Or simply drop out.
His thoughts drifted to extremes. Deep down he could not stand the idea of Yu Kaiming coming into contact with anyone he knew.
“Top student, that ‘Evolved Boon for Slow Birds’ is actually great,” Wang Lu’an said. “With the worksheet Fangqin just handed out, I can understand more than half the problems. Think I can hit 80 on math this time?”
“Depends on the difficulty,” Chen Jingshen said. “If you really digest the problems I circled, your score will not be low.”
Wang Lu’an beamed, hugging his book. “Nice, time to go three hundred rounds with these. Yu Fan, let’s skip the billiards hall after school the next few days.”
Yu Fan ignored him.
Only now, after the worst of his mood had ebbed, did it hit him: the simplest way to keep Zhuang Fangqin away was to get a decent midterm score.
The bell rang and everyone returned to their seats.
The last two periods were self-study. Yu Fan took out his phone and messaged Zuo Kuan.
[-: You got midterm answers?]
[Zuo Kuan: The f***… you are not the type to cheat.]
[-: I am this time. You got any?]
[Zuo Kuan: No. Did your teachers not say? They are using signal jammers for the midterms. Lucky you, first time the school is turning those on.]
“…”
Yu Fan tossed the phone into his drawer. It landed on his wadded-up jacket.
The shift exposed what he had been hiding under it for a while now, untouched: the workbook.
His gaze snagged on the two big yellow characters for “Slow Bird,” and he remembered what Wang Lu’an had just said.
It is good?
If Wang Lu’an can handle the “Evolved” version, the regular one should be pretty basic.
Maybe he could follow it.
But it was something Chen Jingshen bought. If Chen saw him using it, would that not be embarrassing?
Yu Fan stole a glance at the guy next to him.
Chen Jingshen was working through problems, pen moving smoothly over the scratch paper. He always wore that straight face when he did questions, occasionally frowning, completely shut off from the world.
Zhuang Xianjing could be putting on a one-woman show in front of him and he would not react. Yu Fan was just opening a workbook. No way he would notice.
That was what Yu Fan thought.
As soon as that sidelong gaze vanished, Chen Jingshen’s pen paused for a beat and his eyes slid over.
His desk mate had his left arm stretched between their two desks in a ridiculous attempt to block a view.
But he was too lean. Chen could still see most of it at a glance.
His desk mate was rummaging around the drawer like a thief.
Out came the bright yellow “Slow Bird.”
Chen Jingshen: “…?”
Yu Fan carefully, very carefully, opened the book. He read quietly for ten minutes, then his head edged sideways—
Before their eyes met, Chen Jingshen snapped his gaze back and randomly bubbled B on his own paper.
Seeing no reaction, Yu Fan exhaled in relief.
The book really was basic. The solutions were detailed. The first pages even used middle school knowledge, and the formulas the textbook flagged were all here too.
Back in early high school Yu Fan had not been as checked out as now. On the placement test he had scored seventy-something in math. Later exams, if he felt like it he wrote what he knew, if he did not, he filled in the multiple choice and then threw zeroes and ones at the fill-ins. His scores slid into single digits. That was one reason Zhuang Fangqin fumed.
He gripped his pen and started reading seriously.
It went fine at first. A few pages later, he began to struggle.
When the bell rang, he was still stuck on a problem. People were already moving, so he had to stuff the book back into the drawer like nothing happened.
“Wang Lu’an,” Chen Jingshen said, turning. “Come here a sec.”
“Huh? What’s up, top student?”
The problem on the scratch paper was one Chen had just made up.
Yu Fan did not care until Chen started reading it out loud. The wording matched half the one that had stumped him.
Huh?
What were the odds?
He glanced over. Chen’s face was unreadable.
Chen explained in detail, even reciting the formula. Yu Fan popped a stick of gum, chewing as he listened.
Now he got why Wang Lu’an liked asking him questions.
At first Wang Lu’an listened like a saint. Then he kept wanting to jump in, only to be steamrolled by the explanation. Finally, when Chen finished, he whispered, “Uh, top student… I already know this one.”
Chen lifted an eyebrow. “Do you?”
“Yeah. It is easy. I have known it since forever.”
“Oh.” Catching with the corner of his eye the way the neighbor had started scribbling furiously, Chen said, “Then you are very good.”
That night, Yu Fan hid “Slow Bird” inside his jacket and took it home.
He showered fast and, rare for him, sat down at his desk.
He could not remember the last time he studied under a lamp. After eighth grade he never took schoolwork home again.
He opened the book where he left off.
Ten minutes later he scrubbed a hand through his hair, annoyed.
Basic or not, it could not erase the fact that his foundation was lousy. The first pages were okay. The farther he went, the longer each problem took.
Midterms were next week. No way this pace would do.
Was last-minute cramming even useful?
He held the pen and felt a bit lost.
With a sesame-seed foundation like his, even if he tried, he was not going to produce some pretty score. Otherwise why did so many students get driven mad by math.
Maybe finding another way to keep Zhuang Fangqin away would be more realistic than studying.
Maybe forget it.
He tossed the pen and was about to close the book when his phone buzzed.
Then buzzed again and again.
Yu Fan leaned back, one leg tucked on the chair, pen hooked behind his ear. He picked up his phone.
Chen Jingshen had sent a few videos.
What? He frowned and tapped one open.
The frame showed an open workbook. It was his “Slow Bird,” turned to the exact page where he was stuck.
Chen Jingshen circled a problem with his pen. Holding the phone in one hand, the circle came out a little awkward.
“Your foundation is low right now, which makes it easy to pull your score up. If you put in the effort, small gains are no problem.” His voice was low and clean, cutting through the neighborhood’s mahjong clatter and a kid crying outside. “You only need to do this one for this point. Connect A to E. Add an auxiliary line here…”
Yu Fan listened in silence for a while. He took the pen from his ear and started moving it along with the voice, unhurried.
He watched each video to the end, pausing and replaying. An hour went by.
He scrolled to the bottom of the thread.
[s: Sent to the wrong person.]
Sent fifty-four minutes ago.
Yu Fan paused and sent a “?”
The phone buzzed again.
[s: Meant for Wang Lu’an.]
[-: ?]
[-: Isn’t Wang Lu’an using the evolved version?]
[s: Oh. I grabbed the wrong guidebook too.]
[-: …]
Yu Fan narrowed his eyes, typed out “Silly, aren’t you,” and was about to send it when another video came in.
In it, Fanfan head-butted at Chen Jingshen’s hand. Chen seemed to be sitting, fingers curved as he scratched the dog a few times. “What. Want to go out?”
Fanfan: “Woof.”
“I cannot hold you.”
“Woof?”
“The older brother from last time? He is busy.”
“Woof woof…”
“Got it. I will ask him.”
The video ended.
[s: That was the one for you.]
Yu Fan grabbed the towel off his shoulder and scrubbed his nose with it, the corner of his mouth lifting for no reason. His thumb tapped the screen.
[-: Silly, aren’t you?]
Next day during self-study, Yu Fan snuck “Slow Bird” out again.
He was almost done with a page when the last problem refused to budge. None of the formulas he tried worked.
Chen’s videos last night did not cover this type.
He frowned and turned his head without thinking. “This one—”
Crap.
F***.
Chen Jingshen looked over. For a second Yu Fan did not know whether he should torch the book or knock Chen Jingshen out.
While he hesitated, Chen calmly gathered his own paper. “Give it here.”
“…”
It is just a question. What is there to be embarrassed about.
And the book was payment for dog-walking anyway.
Yu Fan licked his lips, pulled down the arm he had been using as a blockade. “Oh…”
He tended to chew his thumb when he listened to explanations.
Chen Jingshen finished the problem and he was about to ask for another when a crisp knock cut them off.
The Chinese teacher stood at the door. “Everyone, I will be coming next period to do a pop recitation of ‘A Petition to the Throne.’”
Groans rolled through the room.
“Teacher, can we not,” Wang Lu’an said at once. “Does this mean it will be on the midterm?”
“Stop making things up,” she said. “But it is a major test point. Review.”
As soon as she left, the kids who had been doing math slid everything into their drawers and pulled out their Chinese textbooks.
Chen Jingshen looked back. “Got it now?”
Yu Fan blinked, then came back to himself. “Oh… yeah.”
The awkwardness from earlier seemed to have evaporated.
Then he remembered that the midterm was not only Zhuang Fangqin’s subject. There was physics, Chinese, English… all of them rough.
He put “Slow Bird” away and joined the herd in flipping to “A Petition to the Throne.”
To memorize faster, everyone read aloud. The room buzzed like a sutra hall. With that chorus, even if he read too, no one would notice.
He whispered, barely breathing the words. “At the age of four, my uncle took my mother’s will. Grandmother Liu… Liu…”
Liu what?
How do you read that character?
Back from Baidu, he ground through half the period and finally smoothed out the first section.
He tamped down his irritation and continued. “Upon receiving the grace of the sacred court, I was bathed in righteous governance. The former prefect minister…”
Minister who?
Who the hell can memorize this?
Clawing at his hair, he reached for his phone to Baidu again, and caught Chen Jingshen looking at him. He was smiling.
Those long eyes curved a little. The smile was faint and quiet.
Yu Fan stared for a while before he snapped, “What the hell are you smiling at?”
“Nothing.” Chen straightened his face and looked back down. A few seconds later he glanced up again, the tail of that smile still lingering in his eyes.
“Just thinking that I get to keep sitting next to you. Makes me happy.”
“…”
The Chinese teacher came back in. Yu Fan clutched his book and forced his head forward.
The characters were still packed like ants. His brain felt stiff. The second paragraph just would not go down, so he went back to the top again.
At the age of four, my uncle took my mother’s will. Grandmother Liu… Liu…
Liu what again?
F***, Chen Jingshen is toxic.
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