As they approached the teaching building, the air was filled with a noisy hubbub coming from all directions. Every single classroom was the same, resembling nothing less than a chaotic vegetable market.
Youth in all its glory, Hu Fan thought to himself with a silent sigh, lengthening his stride.
"Holy cow, bro, you're finally here. Cutting it a bit close, aren't you?"
"Late? How is this late? We don't even have classes today."
Hu Fan casually dropped his backpack onto the desk, sat down next to Wang Hao, and picked up the thermos from his bag to rehydrate.
"You've got a great spot here—right in the dead center. You must really want the teachers to spot you if you try to sleep in class."
Hu Fan glanced at the podium less than a meter away, looked around the room, and then turned to shoot Wang Hao a rather unfriendly glare.
"You think I wanted this? It was already arranged by the head teacher. The seating chart is posted right up there on the bulletin board."
Wang Hao rolled his eyes in speechlessness. It wasn't like he wanted this either, but what could he do? In this classroom, heaven was vast, earth was wide, but the head teacher was the ultimate authority. You just had to accept your fate.
"Fine, whatever."
Hu Fan rubbed his nose in a fit of sudden guilt and hurriedly changed the subject. "The textbooks are all handed out—what's on the agenda next?"
He looked down at the various new textbooks piled on his desk, grabbed the backpack he had just tossed down, and hung it over the back of his chair.
Too lazy to fish a pen out of his bag, he looked left and right, casually snatched the black pen off Wang Hao's desk, and began signing his full name across his brand-new textbooks.
"Nothing much. We just hang around until the last period of the morning, the old lady comes in to give us some instructions, and then we're free to go home."
"Alright then, still an hour or two left. That's not bad."
Hu Fan glanced at the watch on his wrist.
Sitting right in front of them, Qiao Yingzi listened to their conversation, her right hand gripping her pen so tightly that her fingertips turned white. With a surge of resentment, she wondered why someone with such a lazy attitude toward studying could possibly take first place.
Having her long-held position as top student snatched away left her not knowing how to face her mother, and a sour ache twisted in her chest.
"Yingzi, what's wrong?"
Seeing her white-knuckled grip and the book she hadn't flipped through for ages, Huang Zhitao looked at her best friend with concern.
"Nothing's wrong. I just found an article I really like and got a bit lost in it."
Qiao Yingzi reined in her emotions and replied with a feigned, carefree smile.
"That's good."
Huang Zhitao looked down at the short prose piece, suddenly struck by a passing thought, and swallowed the words she had been about to ask.
She couldn't help glancing sideways at the two boys sitting behind them—so carefree, so relaxed. She sighed inwardly: it probably wouldn't be easy for Yingzi to win back first place, and she shuddered to think how her mother might pressure her.
"Let's work hard together!"
Huang Zhitao leaned close to Yingzi's ear to whisper words of encouragement, her fist clenched as if to represent their unyielding determination.
"Yeah, let's work hard together."
All of Qiao Yingzi's lingering unwillingness transformed into a surge of courage and drive.
The two girls exchanged a smile, and Yingzi felt much of the bitterness in her heart dissipate, making her feel a lot better.
Over in the office.
Li Meng glanced at the hour hand on her watch. It was right at eleven o'clock. She took a deep breath, picked up the class roster and enrollment guide from her desk, and headed toward Class One of the freshman year.
Tap, tap, tap...
The sound of high heels echoed down the corridor, growing louder and louder. The students who had been goofing off in the classroom a moment before instantly quieted down, snatching up their textbooks and putting on a show of earnest studying.
As a veteran teacher, Li Meng wielded serious deterrent power over these students. Just a single first meeting was already proving effective.
"Everyone in our class should be here now, right?"
Li Meng swept a piercing, authoritative gaze across the students in the room—her opening display of dominance for the new class.
"Alright, no more nonsense. Let's do a round of self-introductions. My name is Li Meng, your head teacher, and also your Chinese teacher.
"I expect you all know what Class One represents. I hope you will maintain this 'number one' status in the future and always put your studies first in your hearts.
"Very well, let's have the students come up one by one to introduce themselves."
Li Meng clapped her hands, picked up the class roster, and walked over to stand beside the podium.
Hearing her call his name, Hu Fan stood up and walked toward the platform.
To be honest, the first day of school was always like this; he was already used to it.
With forty students in the class, at roughly a minute or so per person, that was nearly an hour right there.
Doing the math in their heads, the students began desperately shortening their introductions. After all, everyone was eager to get home for the weekend, and they certainly couldn't let the head teacher drag things past the bell.
As the final self-introduction wrapped up, Li Meng checked her watch: twenty past eleven. Excellent—half a minute per person, snappy and efficient.
She gave a light laugh and stepped back up onto the podium.
"Alright, since you're all being so efficient, the teacher won't drag her feet either. Let's aim to wrap things up before the bell."
The school's daily schedule, the timetable, the subject teachers, as well as the cafeteria, meal cards, and all sorts of other trivial little matters were explained by Li Meng one by one in clear detail.
Down in the seats, the students pricked up their ears and listened attentively. Although these were petty details, they were still crucially important to them.
Some students even picked up the pens on their desks and hurriedly jotted things down; after all, the palest ink is better than the best memory, and it would be bad if they forgot something later.
"Is there anything anyone didn't understand?"
"No."
Seeing the teacher's inquiring gaze, the students below shook their heads in response.
"Very well. I've explained everything to you crystal clear today, and I expect that when you come back to school tomorrow, you won't have forgotten it all."
"Yes!"
Glancing at the clock hanging at the front of the classroom—only five minutes left until the end of class—the students answered with exceptional volume, a clear sense of joy ringing in their tones.
Looking at the clearly distracted students below, Li Meng felt a twinge of helplessness. Knowing that nobody would retain a word she said right now anyway, she wisely decided to save her breath.
She would just wait until formal classes started tomorrow to whip these distracted little brats into shape.
Ring-a-ding-ding, ring-a-ding-ding.
The dismissal bell rang, and the quiet teaching building instantly erupted into life.
"Alright, class dismissed. Be careful on your way home."
"Goodbye, Teacher."
Sensing their pure, unadulterated joy, Li Meng couldn't help the corners of her mouth curving upward as she walked out of the classroom with her files.
"Is there anything good to eat around here?"
"There's a stir-fry place that's pretty good. I went there once during summer vacation."
"Great, let's go there."
Hu Fan and Wang Hao discussed their lunch plans as they walked down the stairs.
Hu Fan had promised to treat earlier and had yet to make good on it, a debt Wang Hao had kept firmly in mind. Since neither of their families would be home for lunch—everyone was still at work—they could go out and feast.
Just as they reached the school gates, a familiar figure came into view: Qiao Yingzi's mother, Song Qian. Sure enough, she looked precisely the same as she did in the TV drama.
Hu Fan gave her a casual glance and quickly looked away. This woman was major trouble, and he had zero desire to get involved.
Being ordinary classmates was quite enough; getting caught in the crossfire as an innocent bystander would be the absolute worst.