Qing Ye stood at the door of Class 2, Grade 12 and knocked. Teacher Yang Li had already arrived in the classroom. She turned her head and saw Qing Ye, then stepped down from the platform to welcome her in.
The previously chaotic classroom suddenly fell silent at the arrival of this unfamiliar face. Qing Ye walked into the room in her two-toned lambskin flats, calmly turning her head to meet everyone’s gaze. Her eyes swept over the curious stares and suddenly locked onto the figure in black seated at the very back of the classroom.
She had always thought that although Xing Wu, Huang Mao, and the others were also in their final year at An Zhong High, with her grades, she wouldn’t end up in the same class as them. But she hadn’t expected the students here to be so uniformly mediocre—there were no advanced or remedial tracks to speak of. Even Pang Hu was in the same class as her, grinning widely at her now.
If a moment ago Qing Ye hadn’t seen clearly and couldn’t confirm whether the person riding the Ninebot was Xing Wu, now, seeing him in his black tracksuit with his hands in his pockets, she truly began to wonder if underachievers at this school received special treatment or what? How could he brazenly use the teachers’ elevator? Was there no school regulation at all?
Qing Ye gave Xing Wu a brief, indifferent glance before withdrawing her gaze. At that moment, Teacher Yang enthusiastically introduced her: "This student is a transfer student this semester, named Qing Ye. In the coming academic year, she will strive alongside us to face the most important battle of our lives."
As expected of a language arts teacher, Teacher Yang’s welcome speech was both emotional and impassioned. Unfortunately, the students below felt no such inspiration. The male students erupted in excitement, whistling at Qing Ye in unison and waving their books, suddenly feeling that their miserable final year of high school had become much more colorful. The female students, meanwhile, collectively scrutinized Qing Ye with unfriendly stares, examining her from her hair down to her fingernails as if they wanted to strip her bare.
Qing Ye coldly observed the rather abnormal class and turned to ask Teacher Yang, "Where should I sit?"
Qing Ye wasn’t short for a girl, so logically she should sit in the back. But Teacher Yang made no attempt to hide her favoritism, directly reassigning a shorter student from the front row to the back and giving Qing Ye the seat in the first row, right in the center.
The shorter boy reluctantly made three trips to clear out his cluttered belongings. Qing Ye pulled out the chair and sat down at the desk, naturally taking out her laptop from her backpack. Immediately, astonished glances flooded in from all directions.
The entire class was stunned. Where did this transfer student come from? On her first day, before her seat was even warm, she was already using a computer? Was she trying to be this audacious? And in the front row, no less—even the underachievers here wouldn’t dare to act so boldly.
Sensing the stares, Qing Ye looked up and glanced around. Suddenly, she realized that aside from her, not a single person in the classroom had brought a computer.
Her previous international school had a more flexible teaching style. After entering high school, laptops were standard for every student. Teachers would directly demonstrate problem-solving through remote presentations, assign daily topics, and even share teaching materials. So, coming to school without a computer was highly inconvenient.
Clearly, that wasn’t the case here.
A girl with glasses thicker than the bottom of a wine bottle timidly whispered to her, "Qing Ye, we’re not allowed to use computers in class.""???" Which eye saw her "playing" on the computer? She was utterly speechless. Without computers, were all study materials here handwritten? Looking at the densely packed handwritten notebooks in front of the bespectacled girl named Ye Shuiqin, Qing Ye sighed and put away her laptop.
Meanwhile, Fang Lei, sitting a few rows back, looked displeased. She turned to Li Wenhui behind her and said, "Where is that Qing Ye from? Showing off with a MacBook on the first day of school—how disgusting."
Li Wenhui leaned across the aisle and told her, "I just heard Teacher Yang say she's from Beijing."
Fang Lei sneered, "What's so great about being from Beijing? She still has two eyes and one mouth like everyone else."
Xing Wu, sitting behind Li Wenhui, lifted his eyelids to glance at them before lowering them again. He took out his phone and opened Honor of Kings.
Although there were no formal classes scheduled for registration day, the math teacher Old Zhu stormed into the classroom like he was on drugs. He had the front row redistribute the recently collected test papers and roared, "You bunch of trash cans! Everyone who wrote '5' for question 5 in the first section—stand up now!"
Old Zhu was handing back the summer vacation assignment, which Qing Ye didn't have, so she just watched coldly. Then she saw over half her classmates gradually stand up. She had no idea what was happening, and clearly neither did those standing, as they kept joking and shoving each other.
Old Zhu suddenly unleashed his fury: "You still dare laugh? Look at our class—58 students, 42 standing. You 42 have become gods! Are you photocopiers? Or telepathic? How could you all copy '5' for a square root question with such tacit understanding? Trash cans, you're all trash cans!"
"HAHAHAHA..." The entire class burst into laughter.
Only Qing Ye remained seated, wiping her face as if she'd just experienced an Amazon rainforest downpour of spit.
Looking at her roaring classmates, Qing Ye turned pale. What kind of bizarre school had she ended up in? The teacher was having a near-heart attack from anger, yet nobody cared? They were actually laughing hysterically?
The bespectacled girl Ye Shuiqin next to her, noticing Qing Ye's confused glances, whispered, "Teacher Zhu's name is Zhu Fen."
"..." Pig manure??? What a sexy name. Pig manure calling everyone trash cans?
Qing Ye suddenly curled her lips into a smile and glanced back. Even Pang Hu was standing, his bulky frame squeezed between desks. However, the guy at the very back remained seated, head bowed as his fingers flew across his phone. Of course he wouldn't stand—not only had Qing Ye never seen him do homework, his room didn't even contain a functioning pen.
Old Zhu's already sparse hair stood completely on end from rage—though not literally. He'd been rubbing his scalp with a ruler due to headache when it suddenly poofed up. Since the lectern stood right before Qing Ye's desk, she looked up to see Old Zhu's Frankenstein hairstyle and nearly jumped off her chair in fright.
Clearly, her classmates were much calmer. They were thoroughly accustomed to Old Zhu's ruler-rubbing hair habit and deeply suspected his baldness resulted from two decades of dedicated educational hair-rubbing.Then Teacher Zhu Fen began a lecture on the test papers that lasted for dozens of minutes. He went all out, racking his brains and exhausting every trick in the book, all to make these blockheads understand the problem-solving logic. After all, Class 2 was a science-focused class—even if the difficulty of the test papers varied, there was no reason for them to inexplicably fall two blocks behind the liberal arts class. Where would that leave his pride?
So, Teacher Zhu lectured with fervor and zeal, working up a sweat, explaining each question in detail, drawing inferences from one example, and providing various arguments.
Qing Ye felt a headache coming on after just one glance. What could have been explained clearly in a few words had been twisted into a chaotic mess under his approach. Even she found it hard to follow, let alone the blockheads behind her.
The industrial fan overhead spun incessantly, emitting an irritating noise. At the front of the classroom, Old Zhu’s spit sprayed like a showerhead, drifting down continuously. The surroundings were noisy and chaotic—the classroom had only been quiet for a moment when she first entered, and in the dozens of minutes since, it had never settled down. Chalk dust from the blackboard floated toward her hair in visible clouds. Qing Ye was on the verge of losing it.
The moment Old Zhu announced a break, Qing Ye was the first to dash out of the classroom, heading straight to Teacher Yang’s office to request a seat change. The prized center seat in the front row was more than she could handle. She was certain that if she sat through another class there, she’d either drown in Old Zhu’s spit or choke to death on the chalk dust.
Of course, she didn’t use that as her reason when speaking to Teacher Yang. Instead, she gave a practical excuse: she had mild farsightedness, and sitting in the front row made it too difficult to see the blackboard, so she needed to move farther back.
Teacher Yang was immediately concerned and asked if she had been to the hospital, emphasizing the importance of protecting her eyesight at her age and rambling on about the endless journey of learning.
Then, Teacher Yang took Qing Ye back to the classroom to rearrange the seating. The short student from earlier was asked to move his books to the front row, while Qing Ye was assigned to the third-to-last row. The short student had just finished organizing all his belongings and wiping his desk clean after Teacher Zhu’s lecture. Just as he settled in, Teacher Yang called him back to move again. His heart sank like the crashing waters of Niagara Falls.
The short student’s deskmate burst out laughing. In his unrestrained glee, a string of snot shot out of his nose. Qing Ye gasped in horror, turned to Teacher Yang, and said, “Actually, that seat is still too far forward. I can move back a bit more.”
The short student stood frozen in place, unsure whether to move or not.
Just then, Li Wenhui, sitting in the second-to-last row, raised her voice and said, “Picking and choosing over a seat—do you want the whole class to stand up and make room for you?Qing Ye slowly turned her head, searching for the source of the voice, until her gaze firmly settled on Li Wenhui's provocative face. A faint, almost imperceptible smile curled at the corner of her lips. Pointing at Li Wenhui’s seat, she said to Teacher Yang with utmost sincerity, “No need to trouble anyone. I’ll sit there.”
Old Zhu had just returned from the restroom in a hurry. Teacher Yang quickly made arrangements: “Li Wenhui, pack your things and switch seats with Qing Ye. Hurry up, don’t waste everyone’s time. After Teacher Zhu finishes going over the test papers, you’ll be dismissed. Formal classes start the day after tomorrow morning, so all of you need to adjust your body clocks properly.Li Wenhui covered her mouth, staring in disbelief as Qing Ye slightly lifted her chin and threw back a provocative look. She nearly choked on her fury.After Teacher Yang finished arranging things and left, Li Wenhui stood up angrily. Her chair slammed against Xing Wu's desk with a loud thud. Xing Wu slowly raised his head and watched Li Wenhui furiously gathering her belongings, still oblivious as he asked, "Can we leave now?"
Li Wenhui shot Xing Wu a glance, bit her lip, and spat out four words: "I'm changing seats."
She had hoped Xing Wu would say something, but he just uttered an "Oh" and continued playing his game with his head down.
Fuming, Li Wenhui zipped up her backpack and awkwardly carried a pile of things forward. As she passed by Fang Lei, she dropped two words: "Get her."
Compared to Li Wenhui, Qing Ye only had a bag and a few newly distributed books, making her much more composed.
She turned and walked toward the back. The gazes of everyone around fell on her. With every step, she exuded a subtle aura of confidence and strength. Xing Wu had labeled this aura "contempt for all things" from the first time he saw her. Yet, it was merely the confidence accumulated from her privileged upbringing and personal excellence, making her appear like a proud white swan in others' eyes.
Fang Lei kept her head down, tracking Qing Ye's steps and calculating the distance. Wearing a white short skirt, are you? Then let her trip in front of the whole class and give the boys a feast for the eyes.
Just as Qing Ye reached her, Fang Lei stuck out her foot. Everything happened in the blink of an eye, yet Qing Ye didn't even glance down, steadily stepping right on Fang Lei's foot.
Fang Lei immediately let out a sharp cry. Damn, the script's wrong!
Qing Ye walked over Fang Lei's foot as if nothing had happened, heading to the second-to-last row. She even turned back and casually said, "Sorry about that."
Zhu Fen slammed the lectern and yelled, "Fang Lei, are you slaughtering a pig? What's all the shouting for?"
The class erupted in laughter. Fang Lei buried her head, feeling bitter inside.
Xing Wu was immersed in a 5v5 battle when, out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a white figure settling in front of him. He couldn't help but look up at the slender nape of the girl now seated ahead.
Qing Ye calmly arranged her books, then turned around, directly picking up a blank test paper from the corner of Xing Wu's desk and placing it in front of herself. She tossed out a remark: "Thanks, loser."
OpenNovel