The monthly exam rankings were brought into the classroom by Song Cong after morning self-study. "The results are out. I'll leave them on the podium for everyone to check."
As soon as he finished speaking, the students rushed forward, instantly crowding the podium. Someone checked their own score and then reported to their deskmate, "You're seventeenth in the class, 360th in the grade."
This announcement set a standard, making those still seated restless. The front of the classroom turned into a beehive.
Song Cong struggled to squeeze out of the crowded area, but conversations about him continued in that space—Song Cong took first place in the grade again, how must the Honor Class feel, he's breaking Tianzhong's tradition.
Returning to his seat, he nudged Jing Qichi, who was resting with his eyes closed. "Your new phone is within reach."
Jing's Mother had made a promise: if his average ranking this semester stayed out of the bottom ten, she would splurge on a new phone for him.
Jing Qichi sat up abruptly, eyes shining. "What's my rank?"
"Results are out?" Chen Huan'er and Qi Qi walked into the classroom arm in arm through the back door. Just as they were about to rush to the podium, Song Cong stopped them. "Huan'er, you're twenty-fifth in the class, 563rd in the grade."
Chen Huan'er was overjoyed. "My ancestors must be smiling down on me!"
In a class of fifty, this was a qualitative leap for a transfer student.
"Me, me." Jing Qichi shook Song Cong's arm, acting coquettishly.
Song Cong smiled at Huan'er and answered absentmindedly, "You're thirty-first, 720th in the grade."
Jing Qichi hugged him tightly. "Lao Song, I love you!"
Song Cong pushed him away with a look of disgust.
Seeing both of them perform beyond expectations, Qi Qi asked nervously and expectantly, "What about me?"
"Not great. Thirty-ninth in the class, in the grade..." Song Cong scratched his head. "Sorry, I forgot."
He said he forgot.
"It's fine," Qi Qi smiled. "I'll check myself."
Squeezing into the crowd, she found her name, scanning from individual subject rankings all the way to the final overall grade ranking. Qi Qi burst into tears.
She couldn't let it show. The girl pretended to yawn, using the chance to rub her eyes.
It was just too painful—an indescribable pain.
Failing the exam was painful, but the response she received hurt even more.
This was Song Cong. The one who could memorize ancient poetry after just two readings while others struggled to memorize them, who had all the math and science formulas imprinted in his mind, who could scribble out answers to any problem thrown at him. How could he forget? He remembered Huan'er and Jing Qichi's rankings down to the last digit. The only plausible explanation was that he hadn't paid attention at all.
Qi Qi had always believed the four of them were closer to each other than to other classmates, and that the bond was equal among them. But at this moment, she felt stung. In the eyes of the person she cared about most, she was completely different from the other two.
Looking over from the podium, Song Cong was showing something on his phone. The three of them huddled together, laughing.
It was like losing balance on a beam. Qi Qi felt herself being pulled strongly by a thought—Jing Qichi was one thing, but Huan'er? She was a latecomer from a small town. Just because she was lucky enough to live in the Family Compound, did that mean she deserved to stand by his side?
She took a deep breath and returned to her seat with her head down.
Noticing this, Huan'er made a "shush" gesture to the two boys and turned to approach Qi Qi, gently patting her back.
A mosquito-like voice of comfort reached her ears. "It's okay. Think about how you studied before. You must have slacked off a bit recently."
Qi Qi lay on the desk, burying her head in her arms."Didn't you always encourage me that there's still time? Doesn't it work when applied to yourself?"
"Alright, this is just the beginning,"
"Don't feel bad. We'll make up for whatever we lack. Let Jing Qichi buy you grilled chicken wings at noon."
Qi Qi couldn't help but laugh. She looked up, "Eat until I soar to the sky?"
"At least show some determination." Seeing her friend's mood improve, Huan'er asked seriously, "Is it still physics and chemistry dragging you down?"
"Yeah," Qi Qi nodded. "I still need tutoring."
"Get it! The best class available, aim for thirty thousand."
Qi Qi was amused again, but then felt ashamed of her earlier dark thoughts. Huan'er knew nothing and genuinely considered her a friend—how could she think such things about her in secret?
She was angry at her own petty jealousy, angry at herself.
Jing Qichi leaned in from the back row, "It's just one monthly exam, why make such a fuss?"
Her anger found its outlet as Qi Qi lashed out, "What have you even done? How come even you're better than me?"
She knew she was venting, but aside from him—the person she'd known the longest—no one else could bear her unfounded outburst.
True to form, Jing Qichi snorted indifferently, "I did absolutely nothing, just got lucky. What's it to you?"
"Ugh, annoying." Qi Qi shoved him and picked up her workbook to start solving problems.
A teenage girl's emotions are like a tempest, a tsunami, the most violent disasters in the world—arriving without warning, unleashing their force recklessly, then vanishing silently, leaving only wreckage behind. Only years later, looking back, does one realize that earth-shattering turmoil was merely a memory in the long passage of time—some deeper, some shallower, some forgotten entirely.
After starting tutoring, Qi Qi's grades improved, and she even scored a perfect mark on an essay—a rare feat in the talent-packed Tianzhong High, worthy of celebration with gongs and drums. She'd long forgotten that minor episode, still walking home with the same four after school each day. She'd turn onto another road first, sometimes riding far ahead while still hearing Jing Qichi and Huan'er bickering in the distance. The noise and laughter lingered in the night, and Qi Qi thought, I wish it could always be like this.
In the end, Jing Qichi missed out on the new phone.
"Missed out" was putting it kindly—he didn't even come close.
Monthly exams, midterms, finals—Jing's Mother even included the next term's first monthly exam as motivation. But as winter gave way to spring, he became a full-blown Jing Zhongyong (a modern-day "child prodigy who never lived up to potential"), never breaking free from the bottom ten in class.
Huan'er's ranking stabilized in the middle of the class, joining the ranks of the ordinary—neither criticized nor praised. Everyone around her was satisfied: her grandparents were told these grades could get her into college (though they didn't understand the difference between Tier 1 and Tier 2 schools), her parents thought her standing in the fiercely competitive Tianzhong was quite good, and even the neighbors said Huan'er had surpassed other kids after just a short time. Ultimately, in everyone's eyes, Chen Huan'er wasn't being compared to her current peers but to the girl who would've still been attending Sishui High had she not transferred.
Compared to that alternative, she was indeed doing much better.
One evening after dinner at the Jing household, Jing's Mother asked her to "tutor" Jing Qichi—with Song Cong absent, the relatively advanced had to take responsibility for the struggling. Reluctantly, Huan'er began reviewing his monthly exam papers.As soon as the door closed, Jing Qichi dropped his facade. "That's enough. If it gets too late, I'll have to send you home."
Huan'er ignored him, spreading out the test papers on the bed and examining each subject one by one.
The boy puffed out his cheeks, pulled over a chair, and leisurely put on his headphones to watch training videos.
The humanities subjects weren't too bad—just some unclear historical dates and politics questions left blank, with subjective sections filled by randomly copying multiple-choice prompts. The science sections, however, had major problems left entirely unanswered. At first glance, it seemed normal, but upon closer inspection, the issues became obvious.
For the same concepts, he could answer multiple-choice and fill-in-the-blank questions correctly, yet left comprehensive problems untouched even when they merely changed the numbers or phrasing. This pattern repeated across math, physics, and chemistry. Chen Huan'er refused to believe he was too dense to recognize what was being tested.
She got up from the bed and rummaged through the bottom shelf of the bookcase—Jing Qichi was too lazy to organize, so all his test papers were piled in one spot. Huan'er knew the layout of this room better than its occupant.
After some searching, she found last semester's final exam papers. Comparing them confirmed her suspicions.
It was as if he was deliberately avoiding high scores.
His grades were already poor enough, and now Jing's Mother had dangled the carrot of a new phone. Had he kicked his own brain like a deflated soccer ball?
Chen Huan'er couldn't figure out the reason. Sitting on the bed, she kicked his chair loudly. When he reluctantly turned around, she threw the monthly exam papers at him. "Why are you deliberately doing poorly?"
Jing Qichi took off his headphones. "What?"
She switched to a definitive tone. "You're intentionally answering wrong."
The boy visibly stiffened but quickly regained his nonchalant demeanor. "Get out of here. Don't blame me just because you can't tutor properly."
Huan'er had her proof. Pointing at the papers, she laid out the evidence: "Here, you solved this difficult fill-in-the-blank, but left the major problem—which is identical—blank? And in chemistry, you wrote out the equations earlier, so why skip the later parts when they just changed the numbers?"
"I didn't know how."
"Bull." Huan'er pulled out the final exam papers. "You've been doing this since last semester. If you don't explain, I'll take these straight to your parents and spell it out for them."
Jing Qichi never expected her to dig up old papers. He snatched them and shoved them back under the shelf. "I just got lucky. Made some wild guesses."
"Not talking? Fine." Huan'er lifted her chin and made for the door.
Jing's Father and Mother were both in the living room. Stepping through that door would escalate things.
"Hey." Jing Qichi grabbed her arm swiftly, his expression conceding defeat. "How do I even explain this?"
Huan'er crossed her arms like a strict teacher, sizing him up. "Did you already know what score you'd get after the exam?"
"I'm not psychic." Jing Qichi frowned. "You think I can predict the future?"
"Talk."
"It's just..." The boy let go of her arm. "I didn't want to score higher than Qi Qi."
After saying this, he turned away, avoiding her gaze.
Huan'er remembered now—Qi Qi had indeed yelled at him, "Why are even you better than me?"
But was that all it took? Just those words?
She wanted to understand fully, yet felt Jing Qichi had already given her the answer.
"Don't let Qi Qi find out. No, don't tell anyone."
Huan'er hesitated, her mind in turmoil.
Though she couldn't pinpoint why she felt so conflicted—it was as if helping him meant conspiring behind their parents' backs, or that this was wrong and should be stopped immediately, or perhaps... Her sluggish mind reeled from the revelation, sensing something faintly beginning to awaken.
"Do me this favor. I owe you."He said it again—one debt repaid, another incurred, an endless cycle like the digits of pi.
Huan'er looked at him and nodded. "Alright."
Jing Qichi had indeed given her the answer.
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