Chapter 7
The next day, Yu Fan, unsurprisingly, overslept again.
Resigned, he strolled toward the school gate, already plotting how to bargain with the old security guard so he would not have to go through the pointless routine of climbing the wall.
“It has been how many days since term started, huh?”
Fat Tiger’s voice carried all the way to the corner shop. “Second day of school and you are already late. Planning to skip class altogether after this?”
A line of boys stood at the gate, every face familiar.
Slouched backs, heads down, hands in pockets. Every posture a variation on lazy defiance, every expression sour. None of them had expected Hu Pang to come in person to nab latecomers on day two.
They all looked like trouble, which made the boy at the far right stand out at once.
Hu Pang, out of breath from scolding, clasped his hands behind his back and stopped in front of that one. His tone softened. “Jingshen, what happened this time. Overslept?”
One look at that straight, neat figure and Yu Fan remembered the accursed letter. He made up his mind on the spot, face set, and turned to head for the back gate.
Chen Jingshen must have sensed him. His eyes lifted and locked on.
Their gazes collided. Yu Fan’s gut said this was bad. He quickened his pace on instinct.
“Yu Fan,” Chen called.
The other boys, who had been making frantic faces to tell him to run, “?”
Hu Pang, pivoting on a dime, “?”
Yu Fan, “…”
You did that on purpose, didn’t you?
Half a minute later, looking like doom itself, Yu Fan joined the lineup. He did not spare Chen a glance and went straight to the far left.
“Line up from shortest to tallest. How many times do I have to say it,” Hu Pang snapped, pointing to the spot beside Chen Jingshen. “Over there.”
Yu Fan, “…”
When are you going to cure that damn compulsion.
Grinding his teeth, he shuffled over.
“You were about to run, weren’t you,” the director went on once Yu Fan was in place. “Late yesterday, late again today, and lying to a teacher. Tell me, do you look anything like a student right now?”
“What did I lie about,” Yu Fan asked.
“I asked your Ms. Zhuang. She said your parents are just migrant workers. What did you tell me yesterday?”
“…”
“To say something that heartless. You are beyond saving,” Hu Pang said. “Only your homeroom teacher still bothers with you. One more word to a student like you and I am already exhausted.”
Yu Fan was about to answer, but the boys around him pulled faces like crazy: Don’t, bro, say another word and we will be standing here till noon.
He clicked his tongue inwardly, looked away, and shut up.
After so much talking, the director was winded. He twisted open his thermos, took a drink, and checked his watch.
“Stand straight. Chests up. Stop slouching and show me some energy,” he barked, then turned to Chen Jingshen. “Jingshen, head back to class first or you will miss the start. Keep an eye on the time next time. No more being late, alright?”
“Director Hu, I have a problem with that,” someone in the middle cut in. A boy with a foil perm. “We are all late. Why does he get to leave while we stand here. That is not fair.”
His name was Zuo Kuan, from Class Eight next door. In the director’s book, an even bigger headache than Yu Fan.
Yu Fan might be a delinquent, but he rarely picked fights on purpose. Ignore the truancy and naps and he was almost easy to manage.
Not Zuo Kuan. He led brawls with seniors and kids from the neighboring school, made a scene, and then skated by on family pull with a token demerit.
“Right, Yu Fan,” Zuo Kuan said, looking for allies. “Unfair, yeah?”
“I do not mind,” Yu Fan said on reflex.
If possible, he wished Chen Jingshen would run.
“…”
The director drew breath to blast them again when Chen Jingshen said mildly, “No need, Director. I will take the punishment.”
“You hear that. Look and learn,” Hu Pang said, pleased, then stepped up to Zuo Kuan. “Fair? Add up all your subjects and you still do not match one of his. You want to talk to me about fair…”
He switched targets and lectured Zuo Kuan at length. Yu Fan, beside him, started to doze off on his feet.
When the director was not looking this way, Yu Fan leaned back against the wall and yawned.
A hateful smell drifted his way without warning.
“Did you read my love letter,” Chen asked, voice low and a little hoarse when he spoke quietly.
“…”
You have the nerve to bring that up. At the front gate. In front of the director.
“Ripped it,” Yu Fan said, flat as a knife.
“Mm.” Jingshen slid a hand into his pocket. “I rewrote it last night.”
“?”
Yu Fan snapped upright. Before Jingshen could pull anything out, he grabbed his wrist, quick and sure, and pinned the movement.
Yu Fan’s palm was cool. Jingshen glanced at him and went still.
“Do you not understand human language,” Yu Fan ground out. “I said I do not like men.”
“Yu Fan. What are you doing?!” Hu Pang cried, hurrying over. “Why are you grabbing another student’s hand. Let go.”
Let go? Not a chance. If he let go and Chen fished out a pink envelope, who would take the blame.
“I…” Yu Fan clenched down and struggled for words. “My hand is cold.”
“Put it in your pocket, then. Do not bother other students,” the director said, baffled.
“…”
Yu Fan still did not move. He held Chen’s wrist, body tight with tension.
He was racking his brain for a line when the hand he was holding exerted a clean strength. He could not stop it.
Jingshen drew his hand free. Yu Fan’s heart jumped.
Thank God, nothing came out.
He released the wrist, feeling wrung out, like he had just finished a fight.
The dean had noticed something and frowned. “What were you talking about? What man. What book.”
What kind of demon hearing is that.
“He was recommending study guides,” Yu Fan said without blinking, “suitable for men.”
Chen Jingshen’s eyelid twitched. He said nothing.
“Utter nonsense. What study guide discriminates by gender. And besides, you read study guides,” Hu Pang said suspiciously. “Which ones did he recommend. Say it.”
“‘Middle School Math Points Summary,’ ‘How a Rookie Learns Math,’ ‘Early Bird… 2017,’” Yu Fan recited.
The boys around them, “??”
The director had not expected it to actually be about books. He paused, then nodded. “Those are… indeed appropriate for you. Good.”
Yu Fan had a curse on his tongue and swallowed it at the last second.
Because Chen Jingshen was there, the director did not make them stand long. When the bell rang for first period, he waved them off.
A cluster of problem students walking together made for a formidable sight.
At this age, boys still felt a weird pride in being punished as a group. On the way upstairs they raised their voices on purpose, drawing looks from classrooms left and right.
Yu Fan led the way, annoyed by the noise, and lengthened his stride.
Zuo Kuan hurried up. “Hey, your little study god walks fast. Rushing to class?”
Yu Fan ignored him.
“Damn,” Zuo Kuan went on, eyeing Yu Fan’s face. “I was going to teach him a lesson. Because of him I got chewed out by Fat Tiger. You hate him too, right. How about we—”
Yu Fan stopped dead. Zuo Kuan stopped with him.
He opened his mouth to go on. Yu Fan turned his head and gave him a cold look.
Yu Fan was tall and, here on the stairs, two steps above. The dark weight in his lowered gaze was edged and dangerous, there and gone in an instant.
Zuo Kuan felt nailed in place.
“I told you already,” Yu Fan said after a long moment, voice lazy.
“What,” Zuo Kuan muttered.
“Do not touch anyone in my class.”
It sounded like a reminder, and like a warning.
Yu Fan turned and walked away.
Only when the back disappeared did Zuo Kuan come back to himself and mutter under his breath, “Damn.”
Yu Fan climbed to the fourth floor. At the landing he saw a familiar figure and paused without meaning to.
Chen Jingshen stood there, holding a very familiar sheet of letter paper.
Not done yet, are we.
As expected, the moment Yu Fan reached the landing, that cool voice came again. “Classmate Yu.”
He lost his patience and grabbed Jingshen by the collar. “Do you think I will not hit you?”
Chen let him grab and unfolded the paper with one hand, holding it up to Yu Fan’s eyes.
Yu Fan thought, You have to be kidding me, and braced for impact.
“‘Physics Made Simple,’ ‘Must-Do Problems for Middle School,’ ‘An English Dictionary Even Grade-Schoolers Can Memorize’…”
“These are the study guides I reselected last night,” Chen said, face unreadable.
“…”
“They suit,” he paused as if picking words, “someone with zero foundation.”
“…”
“I hope they help.”
“…”
All day, Yu Fan never once looked toward the front row.
The guy was too tall. One look up and there was that punchable back of the head.
“Are you not sick of that game yet?” Wang Lu’an asked, propping one hand on Yu Fan’s chair. “You have played it all day.”
“Mind your own life,” Yu Fan said.
The bell rang for the end of last period. Zhuang Fangqin entered right on the physics teacher’s heels.
Wang Lu’an bumped Yu Fan. “Quit it. Fangqin is here.”
“Hands off,” Yu Fan said. “Critical moment.”
Luckily, Zhuang paid no attention to this corner.
She went straight to the computer and opened a file from her USB. “Before dismissal, let’s change your seats.”
A new seating chart flashed onto the projector.
“Damn, seat change already. Yu Fan, guess our destined partnership was short,” Wang Lu’an squinted at the screen. “No way. I am with the discipline monitor. She is doing this on purpose.”
“Let me see who you are with. Holy—”
“Holy— Yu Fan. Look at your new deskmate.”
Yu Fan paused his game and glanced up, impatient. “Can you not—”
He broke off when the student at Row 4, Group 3, stood.
Everyone else was still craning for their own names. Only one boy gathered his books and walked to the back.
Wang Lu’an’s desk was a disaster, with one clean corner.
Chen Jingshen set his books on that clean patch and gave Wang Lu’an a silent look.
“Top student, please wait. I will clear it right now,” Wang Lu’an babbled.
Yu Fan reached out and pressed down on Wang Lu’an’s wrinkled textbook.
“What do you mean,” he asked, frowning at Chen Jingshen.
“Your line,” Chen Jingshen said.
Caught between them, Wang Lu’an looked left and right, completely lost.
“What did I say?” Yu Fan asked.
“You said,” Chen replied, “if you like watching, come sit closer.”
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