Chapter 11: This Mother is Not That Mother
Ji Feng bumped Li Long with his chest and walked straight out of the classroom.
Ji Feng’s arrogance left Li Long looking sour, but he didn’t say another word. Snitching was a despicable act, and he didn’t want to stir up any more trouble. In his view, society would teach Ji Feng a lesson soon enough.
“Alright, students. There’s no point in trying to persuade those who have no self-respect. We don’t have much time left, so let’s keep working hard.”
In a senior high classroom, there was never a shortage of people eager to stir the pot. Once Li Long finished speaking, the whispers began immediately:
“I told you, how could Ji Feng actually turn over a new leaf and start studying?”
“Haha, it hasn’t even been a day, and he’s already dropped the ‘good student’ act. It’s hilarious.”
“Li Long is such a coward, too. Did you see how he acted just now? He looked like he was about to wet himself.”
“Just keep watching the show; we’ve got months of this left.”
Gu Xueting glared at the doorway, her mind filled with disbelief. *He left? He just left like that? He’s not even going to coax me? Is this some kind of ‘playing hard to get’ tactic?*
How could Ji Feng treat her this way? And if he left, what about her phone? Her student ID was still at the front desk of Junhao KTV.
While Gu Xueting struggled with her conflicting thoughts, Wunnuan glanced at the door, flipped through her notes, and lowered her head once more.
***
Ji Feng arrived at the nearby Salted Fish Internet Cafe with a group of rough-looking youths. He believed in keeping his word; since he had promised to have a few rounds of gaming that night, he had to show up. He arrived first, as the others hadn’t made it yet.
Having not played League of Legends in a long time, Ji Feng’s fingers were itching, so he started a game by himself. To his embarrassment, he was relegated to the 5th position as soon as he joined the lobby.
“Mid, 1st pick.”
“Jungle, 2nd pick.”
“Top, 3rd pick.”
“Mid or AD, 4th pick.”
Ji Feng stayed silent for two seconds, then typed: “5th pick, no support.”
“Everyone has a role; if you’re 5th pick and don’t support, who will?”
Ji Feng didn't hold back: “Support your mother. I’m giving you face by playing, and you think you’re qualified to order me around?”
“Your mother.”
“Check the ID ‘jfeng’—2400 Elo in the First Zone. Use your head.”
Ji Feng watched the screen with slight anxiety after sending the message.
“I checked. 49% win rate, 1150 Elo. Who the hell are you trying to fool?”
Caught in the lie, Ji Feng gave a sheepish laugh. “Heh, didn't think I'd fool you. Okay, fine, I’ll play support.”
He immediately locked in Master Yi. Unfortunately, the ‘Happy Wind Man’ (Yasuo) hadn’t been released yet.
“Are you kidding me? Master Yi support? Might as well just quit.”
“Don’t panic, I’ll show you my skills later,” Ji Feng replied confidently.
Thirty minutes later…
“Your mother, your mother, your mother…”
Ji Feng’s fingers danced across the keyboard like a pianist. He didn’t understand why everyone else who was reborn became an instant pro while he remained stuck at a Bronze/Silver level.
“Brother Feng, don’t be angry… we’re here now…”
Dou Ding and his lackeys had been standing behind Ji Feng for a while. Seeing him so heated, they spoke in hushed tones. Usually, their group would have at least one or two skilled players, but they were all remarkably mediocre—the highest among them was 1300 Elo, barely Silver. Seeing Ji Feng’s game in total collapse, no one dared to claim they could carry him.
Ji Feng turned back to them, calmed himself down, and put on a smile.
“When I curse someone’s mother in the game, it’s not their actual mother. This mother is not that mother. This mother is just a projection I’ve invented—a phantom, a kind of spiritual entity. She exists only within the game; she is nothing in reality. It merely represents my rejection of this game and my disappointment in his performance. I’ve had no choice but to create such a mother. Once the game is over, his mother is still his mother. Nothing will happen to her, and it has nothing to do with me.
“However, I wouldn’t mind creating her again next time I run into him. Of course, even though I’m being rude to his mother in the game, if I were to meet her in real life, I would still say, ‘Hello, ma’am!’ This is called having class. Get it?”
“Got it, brother.”
“Sit down. Watch me carry you all to god-tier with Master Yi tonight.”
Four hours later, Dou Ding and the others sat in silence. Ji Feng felt that as the leader, he needed to say something.
“Regarding tonight, it’s hard for me to say. Although I made some mistakes, you guys were so terrible that it doesn’t even make sense.”
Dou Ding didn’t argue; he silently opened the damage panel. Ji Feng’s 40-minute record of 0-16-2 with only 2500 damage dealt stood out prominently. Ignoring his lackeys’ stares, Ji Feng sighed, “Wishing to buy osmanthus flowers and go for wine, but in the end, it is not like the days of my youth.”
***
Over the next two days, the traffic monetization plan proceeded steadily, and Ji Feng rented an apartment to use as a workspace. As for himself, he spent his days in the classroom as if serving a prison sentence.
Except for the daily morning run where he would run into Wunnuan—which served as a minor emotional relief—he barely spoke to any of his classmates. Of course, Wunnuan didn’t speak to him, either. During this time, Gu Xueting tried to find him a few times, but Ji Feng completely ignored her. Gu Xueting ended up sulking, vowing never to pay attention to him again.
Because he was actually trying to study, Ji Feng felt like he was using so much brainpower his hair wouldn't grow anymore. Chinese and English were slightly better; through his own efforts of memorizing and understanding, he could feel slow but steady progress. Math, however, was a different story. He had missed too many foundational lessons, and to Ji Feng, looking at math now was like reading a heavenly script. He recognized every individual character, but once they were combined into a problem, he didn't even know where to start.
At his wit's end, Ji Feng poked his desk with his pen, turned his head, and looked toward the row near the window. After a moment’s thought, he picked up his math textbook and walked over to that seat.
“What’s he doing?”
“No idea.”
“He looks angry. Is he going to hit Wunnuan?”
“It’s possible. I heard Old Huang gave Ji Feng a hard time a few days ago; maybe it’s about that.”
Under the bewildered stares of his classmates, Ji Feng pulled up a chair and plopped down in front of Wunnuan. Wunnuan looked up at him and silently tucked the steamed bun she had been holding into her desk. Her movements were tiny, but they didn’t escape Ji Feng’s notice.
Ji Feng didn't say anything; he just pointed to his math book. “Can you help me explain this problem?”
Wunnuan paused for a few seconds. Her gaze toward Ji Feng was laced with confusion, her brows knitting together as if she were checking to see if he was playing a joke on her.
Ji Feng licked his lips and emphasized again, “I… I don’t get it. I can’t understand a word of it. I’m at my wit’s end.”
Wunnuan frowned, but soon relaxed. Her red lips parted, and she said in a cool, detached tone, “Fine. Where should we start?”
“Right here.”
“Given the function f(x)=…”
Wunnuan didn’t waste any time with pleasantries. She skipped all unnecessary steps, went straight to the point, and began to explain the problem to Ji Feng with complete focus. While she was explaining, an aura radiated from her that was completely different from her usual self. It was confidence—absolute confidence.