December 13, Sunday, Sunny
In accordance with Yuying's traditions, this afternoon is designated as a half-day for free activities.
Following two rounds of autumn rain, the weather has turned distinctly chilly. Most students now require padded cotton jackets as a desolate autumn wind and drifting leaves whisper of the impending winter.
The "Elite Initiative," decided upon during a recent Academic Affairs Office meeting, has also entered its trial phase. Participation is restricted to students who have ranked in the top 50 for two consecutive major examinations. Anyone who drops out of the top 80 even once, or fails to enter the top 50 twice, will have their eligibility revoked.
"Damn it, you have no idea how brutal my life is lately. I have to go to the English office every single evening for an hour of listening practice. The kicker is that Old English just stares at me the whole time. It's creepy as hell," Yang Zhao complained, running over to Class 5 to vent.
Across the entire grade, only three top-tier students require English remediation. The other two suffer merely from slightly weak reading comprehension, meaning they just need to aggressively memorize vocabulary and drill specific question types.
Yet Yang Zhao is the only one hauled in for daily listening practice—and the crucial problem is that listening exercises instantly make him drowsy, though he dares not fall asleep with their English teacher, Old Chen, glaring right at him.
Listening to his good buddy, Lin Zimo twitch a corner of his mouth. "Your listening scores are entirely based on blind guessing. Do you really expect to improve without practicing?"
"I'm not going abroad or working for a foreign enterprise, so why the hell should I practice?" Yang Zhao muttered with dissatisfaction.
"Man, I really envy you top students," gloated a boisterous boy standing nearby.
His name was Wang Shuai, a mutual friend of the two. Lin Zimo had been classmates with him and shared a dorm for three years, while Yang Zhao had only joined their class when the grade was split.
"Envy my ass. The moment the monthly holiday starts, I'm telling Aunt Lian that you have zero drive and refuse to study properly," Lin Zimo sneered.
Of course, he was just joking. He knew it was already quite an achievement for Wang Shuai to maintain his current grades; he simply found Wang Shuai's gloating face irritating.
"Go ahead and tell her. Just last month she was asking when you'd come over to my place for dinner," Wang Shuai laughed.
"Hey, I'm telling you, it looks like Su Qing and Yang Zhendong have hit a rough patch recently." Unwilling to discuss grades with these two unfilial wretches—which was far too damaging to the ego—Wang Shuai pivoted to a new topic.
At that, Yang Zhao was instantly wide awake, his expression turning giddy. "What kind of rough patch? Did they break up? Doesn't that mean Old Mo is back in the game?"
After all, he was well aware that his good friend held a bit of a crush on Su Qing.
Lin Zimo was dumbfounded on the spot. *Hold on, buddy, why do you always pull this stunt right before every single exam?*
*Are you an undercover operative planted by your homeroom teacher, Old Zhang, specifically designed to ruin my mental focus?*
*I've told you repeatedly that I merely appreciate beauty from afar! Why do you keep feeding me gossip about her? Do you take me for that kind of guy?*
"What's going on? Fill me in," Lin Zimo asked sneakily.
*You really read people accurately, my good son—you actually know what your old man wants to hear.*
***
Su Qing had been feeling rather distressed lately. Over the past two weeks, her boyfriend had been getting entirely too chummy with other girls.
She had already warned him once, yet merely two days later, the exact same behavior had resumed.
Perhaps those two girls were unaware that the two of them were dating, but surely he knew he had a girlfriend?
Could he not exercise a modicum of restraint and propriety?
Whatever. She would deal with it after the exams on Tuesday.
Su Qing looked down at the book in her hands. The examinations were scheduled for tomorrow.
A wave of panic rippled through her heart, for her study efficiency over the past fortnight had sunk to unprecedented lows.
She refused to let her exam results turn into an absolute disaster, forcing herself to calm down.
Meanwhile, Yang Zhendong felt like he was walking on air. The phrase "riding high on success" could hardly capture his current mood; ever since his grades had improved, girls frequently came to him with questions, occasionally resulting in subtle physical contact—it was simply marvelous. *My girlfriend told me to watch myself a couple of days ago.*
*Hahaha, she's just jealous. What she needs is a little stimulation to see if I can steal a kiss this monthly holiday—we haven't even kissed yet.* The more he thought about it, the more pleased with himself he became.
"Is that it? That's all?" Yang Zhao smacked his lips in disappointment after hearing the story. "How boring."
"You don't get it. You don't understand Su Qing. The two of them are going to break up sooner or later," Wang Shuai said with the air of someone who had seen through the vanities of the world.
"You understand? Have you ever even dated?" Lin Zimo leaned back in a tactical retreat.
"Nope."
"Then what the hell are you talking about?" Lin Zimo and Yang Zhao both shot him an identical look of disgust.
Of course Wang Shuai didn't understand these matters; he spoke simply because he had accidentally overheard Zhou Jingmin mentioning the night before that an obstacle stood between Su Qing and Yang Zhendong's relationship—though she never specified what that obstacle was.
Yet it always felt as though Zhou Jingmin knew precisely what the obstacle was and simply refused to spell it out. (Zhou Jingmin: *I did spell it out! I've practically been spelling it out every single day!*)
*No good, I can't calm down,* Su Qing thought, rubbing her temples. She lowered her pen and raised her head to look out the window not far away, where a bright and radiant boy leaning against the railing was chatting with two humanoid creatures beside him.
Laughing and talking, he shone like a brilliant star amidst the darkness.
Today the boy wore a white padded jacket and black cargo pants, his posture exceptionally upright—straight as a towering poplar tree, almost as if he had military training...
And on his face rested those "country-bumpkin" glasses of his. *There, that's better. Don't go taking your glasses off for no reason; save it for special occasions.*
Su Qing sighed again. In truth, her recent distress stemmed not merely from Yang Zhendong's intimate proximity to other girls, but primarily from the realization that she felt virtually no genuine jealousy regarding his behavior.
She even found herself wishing he would push things further so that she could...
Su Qing shook her head, dislodging those wicked thoughts from her mind.
Her high ponytail bounced back and forth with the motion, looking utterly adorable.
Gazing out the window, Su Qing fell into a trance. In reality, she had known him longer than most people—dating all the way back to before the start of junior high.
She still remembered it was an entrance examination for Yuying, held roughly two months into the second semester of the sixth grade of elementary school. It was during that very exam that she had first encountered him.
She vividly recalled the scene of their initial meeting: he had sported a bowl cut, wore those exact same glasses, possessed a tiny face, and stood quite short—barely over a meter and a half.
At the time, she was already well over a meter six. Su Qing had never seen such a cute, exquisite boy and had desperately wanted to reach out and ruffle his hair. She even told her aunt, who had accompanied her to the exam, that she had spotted an adorable little radish-sprout today.
When the test concluded, she made a mental note of his name—Lin Zimo. It had a rather nice ring to it, and his handwriting was exceptionally neat, unlike her own, which looked like a turtle crawling across the page.
Ever since that day, she had begun diligently practicing her calligraphy.
On the day of freshman orientation at Yuying, she was assigned to Class 12.
The very first thing she did upon entering the classroom was scan the roster for familiar names, but alas, he was not there.
Throughout the week-long military training that followed, she kept a lookout among the other classes, hoping to catch a glimpse of that cute little radish-sprout.
Yet with over fifteen hundred students spread across the grade, a whole week of searching yielded nothing.
*Could he have failed the entrance exam? That shouldn't be right; he looked awfully smart,* she sometimes mused to herself.
Finally, during the first class-reassignment assembly after military training, she heard his name called out: "Lin Zimo, Class 18!" It was the first time she had laid eyes on him in over five months.
*Huh? How did the little radish-sprout turn into a big radish-sprout?* She felt a flutter of surprise. The little radish-sprout was now nearly as tall as she was; thankfully she had grown a bit over the summer vacation, otherwise she'd never be able to ruffle his hair.
*Su Qing, Class 18! Su Qing, Class 18...* she chanted hopefully in her heart, but things rarely went as wished, and she was assigned to Class 19 instead.
Moreover, because each floor of the teaching building housed only six classes, Class 18 and Class 19 were separated—one on the third floor, the other on the fourth.
Fortunately, the small... er, big radish-sprout was indeed quite bright. Nearly every monthly exam placed them together in the top testing room.
It was just that the radish-sprout had received a bit too much "fertilizer"; within a single semester, his height surpassed her own, shattering her lingering dreams of ruffling his hair.
When class reassignments rolled around the following year, they still failed to land in the same room, and she remained stranded in Class 19.
The good news, however, was that he was assigned to Class 20, finally placing them on the same floor. Furthermore, walking back to Class 20 required passing right by Class 19, meaning if she simply secured a "scenic viewpoint" near the hallway, she could openly admire her radish.
You ask why she was able to secure a window seat? Naturally, it was because their homeroom teacher, Old Zhu, permitted students to select their seats based on academic rankings.
That evening brought even better news: he had been appointed as the class representative for Class 20 by their homeroom teacher Chen Wei, who simultaneously taught mathematics to both classes.
*Well played, Old Chen. Excellent taste,* $\varphi(*\bar{O}\tilde{O}*)$—*though come to think of it, what kind of standing does this big radish-sprout have to hold the exact same position as me?*
*Warm and cozy, perfect score?*
*How could anyone get a full score on a test that difficult?* (Yuying's characteristic placement exams were at least 1.5 tiers harder than usual). *And then look at my 135—a bit embarrassing. Seems I'm hardly qualified to talk.* (/▽＼)
Following Old Chen's usual routine, after every weekly quiz he would have the class representatives from both classes cross-grade each other's papers.
Though she had previously reserved deep complaints for this practice, she once again betrayed her conscience: *Surely students helping teachers reduce their workload is entirely reasonable, right?*
*I was merely happy to be of assistance to the teacher, absolutely not because I was thrilled to share a closed room with a certain someone.* *^____^*
And thus, with perverse anticipation, she looked forward to the post-quiz paper-grading sessions. It was during these moments that she first caught sight of the radish-sprout without his glasses...
The afternoon sunlight cascaded over the boy. The hair across his forehead fell just slightly over his eyebrows, while the strands at the temples and nape were cropped clean, leaving the top slightly longer and beautifully textured. (In short, a textured crop—an option for anyone whose school enforces strict hair regulations.)
Above all, she struggled to find the right words to describe his face. Delicate? Handsome? Sun-kissed? None of those seemed quite accurate. If forced to choose a word, she would call him pretty—truly pretty. He would undoubtedly look stunning in girls' clothing.
At the time, her unruly face had flushed red. A stack of papers that should have taken a single class period to grade remained less than half-finished, while the radish-sprout finished his batch and cast a puzzled glance her way, as if wondering why she was moving so slowly.
And then he just walked away... just like that.
*Wait a minute? Shouldn't a normal person ask if they need assistance?*
*That other guy from earlier always asked, even though I never made him help.*
*Is there something wrong with me grading carefully? I'm going to inspect your answers right now, and if there's even a single discrepancy, you're not getting full points!* ╰（‵□′）╯
Back then, she had entertained such childish thoughts—only to find that this fellow had written out his solutions in even greater detail than the answer key, effortlessly earning a full score...
Still, grading his papers was an absolute joy; she only needed to glance at the final answers.
She had naively assumed the two of them would gradually grow closer, yet until the high school entrance exams, aside from:
"Are our class papers graded?"
"Thanks!"
"Just leave the papers with me."
They seemed to have had nothing else to say. Oh, and perhaps one more sentence: "Tell your class representative to come down to the office, Teacher Chen wants to see them." ╮(︶﹏︶)╭
After the exams concluded, she spent quite a while regretting her inaction. *(˙-˙)* *Why wasn't I more proactive at the time?*
She was consumed with remorse, yet whenever she hovered over his QQ profile and considered clicking add, her finger simply refused to press send.
*Whatever. Perhaps we'll never cross paths again.* \varepsilon=(´o｀)sigh.
Yet at the Yuying freshman welcoming ceremony, she laid eyes on him once more.
At first, she rubbed her eyes in disbelief, then burst out laughing. *Two months apart, how did the radish-sprout turn into a dark little potato? He got so tanned!* （??｀）σ
Even so, she was overjoyed. They would get to study together at the same school for another three years. (*^_^*)
***
Yet, what a pity... even with all these class reassignments, they never once landed in the same room.
Perhaps the two of them truly lacked the fate to be together.
In truth, the real reason she never dared confess her feelings to him was that back in the third year of junior high, she had witnessed someone else confessing to him—only for his reaction to deal a crushing blow to the suitor's self-esteem...
Almost every single evening, she would watch him stand in the hallway, answering questions and untangling academic puzzles for his classmates.
He remained unfailingly kind and helpful, readily extending a hand even when students from other classes sought him out.
Whenever she saw him explaining problems to other girls, an agonizing pang would twist in her chest. She had often wanted to ask him for help with her own studies, too.
Yet if she approached him with questions, she would do so with an ulterior motive—and the potential consequences of that motive were something she feared she could not accept.
She considered herself cowardly and selfish. Lacking the courage to voice her true feelings, she simultaneously loathed seeing him chat and laugh with other girls.
That emotional state had already begun to impair her normal studies and daily life.
Though it pained her with regret that she never got to ruffle your hair or see you in girls' clothing, I truly have to let you go now.
:-(, it's just that...
***