Zhang Shu handed over his composition paper, "My writing has improved so much, shouldn't you thank Teacher Sheng?"
Sheng Xia glanced at it—47 points.
This was considered a high score. Previously, his compositions had always been below 45, so these few points were significant.
But what did this have to do with her? And—Teacher Sheng? She had never tutored him on his writing.
Sheng Xia remained silent for a long while. Zhang Shu, sounding impatient, said, "Didn’t Lao Wang say we should share resources? Go tell him then. I’ve done my part as a classmate—it’s you who won’t accept the goodwill."
This…
When had Lao Wang ever said that? At the very least, he hadn’t mentioned it to her.
Hou Junqi turned his head, watching Zhang Shu with amusement: Since when was A-Shu so obedient? And would Lao Wang even use an idiom like "share resources"?
Hearing Zhang Shu’s "explanation," the surrounding classmates lost interest in the gossip and stopped crowding around, returning to their own tasks.
Sheng Xia sighed in relief and replied, "How about tomorrow? If I go back too late, my family will worry."
Her reason was sincere, her tone gentle. Zhang Shu suddenly felt like he was being unreasonable. Shouldn’t helping someone be met with better treatment?
He waved his hand dismissively. "Whatever. It’s your grades—why should I care?"
Sheng Xia felt the words "thank you" stuck in her throat. Faced with his impatient expression, she couldn’t bring herself to say it. In the end, she just pressed her lips together, nodded, and left the classroom with her backpack.
What kind of forced expression was that?
Zhang Shu averted his gaze, irritably slapping his test paper onto the bookshelf.
"A-Shu?" Hou Junqi sidled up, eyes gleaming mischievously. "What’s up with you?"
Zhang Shu lifted his head, shooting him a "none of your damn business" look before lowering it again to continue working on his problems.
Hou Junqi, undeterred by the rebuff, only grinned wider, muttering, "Interesting, interesting." The next second, a draft notebook smacked him on the back of the head.
...
Late at night, Sheng Xia tossed and turned. She still didn’t know how to report her grades. The school had a parental monitoring system—had Wang Lianhua already seen them? Thinking of Wang Lianhua’s disappointed expression, her frustration barely restrained, Sheng Xia rolled over again, wide awake. She sat up and turned on some English listening exercises to lull herself to sleep.
But it was futile. The English words buzzed in her ears but refused to enter her brain.
Sheng Xia knew full well how hard Wang Lianhua had it. She wanted all three of her daughters to succeed, to be independent and strong, to have the ability and courage to fight against fate. But so far, not one of them had lived up to her expectations.
Sheng Xia’s grades were decent—just decent—and her personality was soft, lacking any real edge, making her seem indecisive.
Wu Qiuxuan, on the other hand, had a strong personality—too strong—and her grades were a mess.
As for Zheng Dongning… needless to say, just growing up healthy and regaining her social skills was already something to be grateful for.
Sheng Xia remembered her childhood—coming home from school only to practice piano or calligraphy, memorize formulas or ancient poetry. Even punishments were tied to studying. If she hadn’t played the piano well enough, she’d be made to stand with a posture-correcting wooden frame strapped to her back, reciting classical texts from the TV screen until she could recite them from memory.
Looking back now, it had undoubtedly contributed to her literary foundation. But at the time, it had been nothing but suffering.
By the end, the wooden frame would dig into her arms until they ached, and she’d start crying. Wang Lianhua would then hug her and cry too, saying, "Mom doesn’t want to do this either, Xiaxia. You have to be better, or you’ll regret it like Mom did..."Sheng Xia could only choke back her sobs, saying, "Mom, I was wrong. I'll work hard, please don't cry."
She picked up her phone again and opened the chat interface with Sheng Mingfeng. A while ago, he had transferred her a thousand yuan, which she hadn't accepted and had returned.
Sheng Mingfeng had left a message: "Focusing on your studies? Don't push yourself too hard. Go out and relax with your classmates on the weekend."
Sheng Xia typed a few words but then glanced at the time and gave up, turning off her phone and sinking back into the darkness.
...
The next day was spent entirely going over test papers, leaving Sheng Xia feeling dizzy and overwhelmed.
During Chinese class, the teacher read Sheng Xia's essay aloud as a model for analysis, concluding, "Sheng Xia's essay is highly instructive. Everyone should study and analyze it more. Zhang Shu, didn't you learn a lot from the essay writing class? Your essay this time was quite good. Learning isn't just about picking up phrases and sentences—that's hard to master quickly—but the structure, approach, and choice of themes are all worth studying. You all..."
Sheng Xia kept her head down, avoiding everyone's gazes, when suddenly a crumpled paper ball landed on her desk.
She turned her head to see Zhang Shu propping his chin on his hand, raising an eyebrow at her.
She stealthily unfolded the note under the desk.
Zhang Shu chuckled at her furtive movements—the way she hunched over was practically an advertisement of guilt.
[Impressive, impressive]
The note bore four wildly scrawled characters.
Sheng Xia frowned.
[Boring], she wrote back.
[Then chat with me?] he tossed back.
Now that they weren't desk mates, passing notes across the aisle was much more conspicuous. Sheng Xia didn't want to reply, but his long legs stretched over, occasionally nudging the crossbar of her chair.
She glanced sideways at him—his gaze was fixed on the teacher, the picture of attentiveness...
How could he be like this?
With a soft sigh, she could only reply: [Talk after class]
She thought that would be the end of it, but he threw another note: [Received]
He really was so annoying!
Sheng Xia crumpled the note and tossed it into her trash bag.
As soon as the bell rang, several people crowded around Sheng Xia's desk, wanting to see her essay. But there was only one copy. Someone asked, "Sheng Xia, do you have any of your old essays?"
After a moment's thought, she replied, "They're all at home."
"Can you bring them sometime for us to look at?"
"Okay," Sheng Xia agreed, feeling a bit embarrassed.
Back at her previous school, her essays had been praised to the skies by teachers, but none of her classmates had ever sought her out like this to learn. She could write well, but when it came to analyzing or explaining, she didn't know where to start.
The crowd didn't disperse until the next class was about to begin. Lu Youze, sitting diagonally behind her, tapped her shoulder. "Sheng Xia, can I borrow your essay to look at?"
"Sure."
As Sheng Xia picked up the test paper to hand it back, a corner was suddenly pinched between someone's fingers. She looked up to see an arrogantly handsome face.
Zhang Shu looked at her and said flatly, "Didn't you say we'd talk after class?"
Sheng Xia: ...
She glanced at Lu Youze, who gave an understanding smile. "You can explain to him first. I'm in no hurry."
"Mm." Sheng Xia shot him a grateful look before turning back to Zhang Shu, her expression neutral again. "I don't know how to explain. I can only write."
Zhang Shu frowned. Why did she look so reluctant when talking to him? Weren't her eyes just full of warmth a moment ago?
"You explained your speech draft pretty well before, didn't you?" Zhang Shu sat down, facing her.Occasionally, classmates passing through the aisle would block their line of sight, but Zhang Shu would tilt his head, not missing a single expression on her face.
Sheng Xia said, "You have strong comprehension. Maybe you should take a look at it yourself first."
This was the truth. Last night, she had quickly glanced at his essay and noticed significant improvement. At the very least, he had moved beyond the rigid five-paragraph argumentative structure, and his word choices were no longer forced or formulaic.
She recalled how, during a previous composition class, he had studied her essay for a long time—likely analyzing its logic and structure.
It had to be said that even in subjects like Chinese, which relied more on accumulated knowledge, he still had his own effective methods.
A quick learner.
That was talent.
"Is that supposed to be a compliment?" Zhang Shu asked.
Sheng Xia was taken aback. Was his focus a bit off? She nodded hesitantly. "Mm."
"Alright," Zhang Shu said, taking her test paper with unexpected agreeability. "I'll take another look."
Sheng Xia sighed imperceptibly.
He spent the entire day reviewing it and still hadn’t returned it by evening self-study, leaving Lu Youze waiting in vain.
Sheng Xia asked, "Are you done reading it?"
Zhang Shu replied, "I need to analyze it a bit more."
No way around it.
After exams, evening self-study was naturally Lao Wang’s "big brother advice" time, and Sheng Xia was the first to be called out again. This time, whispers spread through the classroom.
Lao Wang seemed particularly attentive to this new student.
Sheng Xia was also a little nervous. She knew what Wang Wei wanted to talk about, but she hadn’t figured out how to respond.
Sure enough, Wang Wei started with some comforting words, assuring her that it was normal to struggle with adjusting to a new environment and that fluctuations in grades were to be expected. She just needed to stay calm and adapt. Then came the pivot—after "but," it was the usual spiel about time being tight and how she had to adjust to the environment and teaching style on her own.
Sheng Xia nodded lightly throughout, saying nothing.
Wang Wei asked, "What’s the biggest challenge you’re facing in your studies? You can tell me."
Saying "nothing" would be too dismissive. Though Wang Wei’s advice was clichéd and unoriginal, his concern was genuine. After some thought, Sheng Xia said, "A lot of the problems are just variations of the same thing, but I still make mistakes. I don’t know what to do..."
"I see," Wang Wei stroked his chin, thinking for a few seconds before asking, "Do you keep a mistake log?"
"Yes."
"Bring it to me later. There’s a method to organizing mistakes—it’s not just about copying them down," Wang Wei said, then seemed to remember something. "Why don’t you ask Zhang Shu? His mistake logs are excellent. The one he made in his second year was so good that he sold copies to the stationery store by the north gate. They reprinted it for underclassmen, and it sold out fast..."
At this, Wang Wei chuckled. "That kid, really... I don’t even know how to describe him."
After this aside, he returned to the topic. "Almost every second-year student had a copy of his mistake log. If it sold that well, it must be decent."
Sheng Xia’s face paled at his words.
Mistake... log? The thing he had copied and sold was a mistake log?!
Not... that other thing?
Seeing her uneasy expression, Wang Wei understood—Zhang Shu wasn’t exactly warm toward girls. He said earnestly, "Don’t be afraid. Sometimes, peer help is more effective than asking the teacher. If you don’t understand something, just ask him. If he refuses to help, tell me, and I’ll reprimand him!"
"Th-thank you, teacher.""Alright, go ahead and call Zhang Shu over for me."
Sheng Xia returned to her seat in a daze, murmuring, "Zhang Shu..."
Why did her tone sound so resentful?
Zhang Shu frowned and looked up.
"The teacher wants to see you."
"Oh." Zhang Shu gave her a suspicious glance before leaving.
The classroom had grown accustomed to this familiar sequence, but Sheng Xia's expression was truly puzzling. The gossipmongers couldn't help but speculate.
"I heard Zhang Shu was flirting with Sheng Xia. Wonder if it's true?"
"Look at how worried Wang Wei is—seems pretty likely."
"With his potential to be the top scorer, of course he'd be nervous."
"Poor Sheng Xia, caught up in this mess for no reason."
"Who knows who started it? Wasn't Zhang Shu always chasing Chen Mengyao?"
"Maybe he got tired of that. Isn't the grass greener closer to home?"
"Complicated."
"Interesting."
Was he selling... mistake notebooks?
A single mistake notebook could be worth several hundred yuan?
This was beyond Sheng Xia's understanding as a "low-scoring student with too many stationery items."
If that was the case—she had completely misunderstood him.
Then, what expression did he have when he saw that criminal law book?
Speechless, shocked, angry, or just tossing it aside as a prank?
She couldn't imagine.
Sheng Xia rested her forehead in her hand, lost in thought.
"Xia Xia, what's wrong? What did Wang Wei say?" Xin Xiaohe asked, noticing her pale expression.
Sheng Xia looked up, snapping out of it. "N-nothing."
Seeing Xin Xiaohe still eyeing her skeptically, Sheng Xia added, "He told me to ask Zhang Shu more questions."
"Oh~" Xin Xiaohe nodded knowingly. "Don't worry! Zhang Shu might act all aloof, but he’s fair—it’s just his personality. He’s not actually scary, and he’s pretty thorough when explaining things."
Realizing she might have been praising Zhang Shu too much, Xin Xiaohe stuck out her tongue. "It’s fine!"
"Yeah." Sheng Xia nodded.
She really had been narrow-minded, unfairly accusing a classmate like that.
An unprecedented wave of guilt washed over Sheng Xia.
Wang Wei and Zhang Shu talked for a long time. It wasn’t until the bell rang that Zhang Shu finally returned to the classroom. His demeanor showed no signs of abnormality—still as relaxed as ever. Thirsty from all the talking, the first thing he did was gulp down water.
Sheng Xia’s gaze drifted from his bobbing Adam’s apple as she called out, "Zhang Shu."
Zhang Shu set down his cup, swallowing before responding, "Hmm?"
"I’m sorry," she said.
Zhang Shu: ...?
Classmates nearby: ???!!!
OpenNovel