Chapter 14: Desk Partner Reviews the Spectrum of Life and Death

Upon arriving in Class Five, Chen Shian was unfamiliar with his classmates. He had no idea why others were so surprised that he was assigned to sit with Lin Mengqiu. Confident in himself, he reasoned that the issue could hardly lie with him; therefore, it must be something about Lin Mengqiu.

Though all he heard were fragments of whispered, ambiguous comments, Chen Shian was clever enough to catch some key points. For instance: she was the class monitor; she was hard to approach; she had the authority to change desk mates at will; rumor had it she kept a little notebook specifically for deducting points; and, she was the most beautiful girl in the class.

This explained the note of envy he detected in the voices of several boys. Chen Shian found this amusing—afraid of her as they were, they still envied anyone who could sit beside her. Wasn’t this just human nature’s duality?

Beautiful and aloof girls often made boys awkward in their presence: either they tried to show off, or they became tongue-tied and timid. But Chen Shian was not like that—not because he was face-blind, but because his heart was as steady as a rock.

Having already organized his desk, Chen Shian noticed Lin Mengqiu had put down her pen and seemed disinclined to continue with her exercises. Naturally, he struck up a conversation, “Are you the class monitor?”

“Yes,” she responded swiftly this time. She could tell that if she didn’t answer, this young priest would just keep staring at her until she did.

“Is Principal Lin your father?”

This time, Lin Mengqiu didn’t reply immediately. Instead, she turned to look at him, but saw nothing deliberate in his expression—it was as casual a question as asking about the weather.

“Did he tell you that?” She answered with a question, her assertive nature immediately apparent.

“No, but you and the principal do look quite alike.”

“Did he arrange for you to be my desk mate?”

“That you’ll have to ask Principal Lin. I didn’t know about it beforehand.”

Chen Shian wasn’t lying; he truly hadn’t known that the principal’s daughter was also in Class Five, much less that she was the class monitor or that he’d be seated next to her. No doubt there was some intention to look after him, given Lin Mengqiu’s excellent grades and his own poor academic foundation.

Lin Mengqiu understood her father’s intentions only too well. If her father hadn’t intervened, Teacher Liang would never have dared assign her a desk mate. She was top of the class and the best science student in the entire grade. Unless she was meant to help someone, who would they have found with better grades than hers to sit beside her?

The brief exchange left Lin Mengqiu with no ill feelings toward Chen Shian. She simply disliked being disturbed. She wasn’t interested in his identity as a priest, and even thought his wearing of a Daoist robe to school was a bit attention-seeking. Still, his upright and pleasant appearance did suit the robe, so she decided to forgive him for it.

This was, in fact, an unfair assumption. Having lived on the mountain for years, Chen Shian always wore Daoist robes and had no other everyday clothes. Accustomed as he was to his attire, he was unaware of the school’s rules. After all, he was a priest—what else would he wear? Now that he had received his new school uniform, he’d wear it tomorrow. Though he cared little for others’ opinions, he knew he ought to respect the school’s regulations.

“You’re a Daoist priest?” Lin Mengqiu asked.

“I am,” Chen Shian replied, as naturally and unassailably as if he were confirming his gender.

Lin Mengqiu grew even more puzzled—when had her father struck up a relationship with a Daoist priest?

Regardless, as class monitor, she felt some obligation to look after the new student, even if her role was more about authority than genuine care, and even if she wasn’t particularly good at looking after others.

“If there’s anything you don’t understand in class or about your studies, you can ask me,” she said. The words, meant to be warm, came out cold and distant. Lin Mengqiu turned her gaze away, thinking this would likely be her longest conversation with this new desk mate.

Usually, when met with such an aloof attitude, others would know to keep their distance—especially at eighteen, when saving face was everything. But Chen Shian, neither shy nor annoyed, took the opportunity to ask her a few more questions:

“Is the cafeteria still open?”

“Yes.”

“Can I get my meal to go?”

“It’s an extra yuan.”

“Is it okay to leave books in the classroom?”

“It’s fine.”

“Alright, thank you.”

It was clear that Chen Shian wasn’t asking these basic questions to be difficult; he genuinely needed the answers.

Having received her replies, he selected a few books for his backpack, pushed his chair back under the desk, and prepared to leave.

Having just answered such naïve questions, Lin Mengqiu realized the priest had no idea how school life worked. Seeing him ready to go, she couldn’t help but add a final reminder:

“Evening self-study starts at six-thirty.”

“Isn’t it six forty-five?”

“Our class requires everyone to be here by six-thirty.”

“Alright. Teacher Liang said I’m excused tonight, but thank you for reminding me.”

After the young priest left, the seat beside Lin Mengqiu was empty once more, save for the extra desk and chair that took up space. While she found them inconvenient, she hadn’t yet found a reason to change desk mates.

Hopefully, you won’t give me a reason.

Lin Mengqiu spread out her test papers and quietly resumed her work. Those who’d bet that Chen Shian wouldn’t last the night as her desk mate were likely to lose heavily.

It seemed the rumors were true.

Unbeknownst to him, Chen Shian had already been added to Lin Mengqiu’s “Desk Mate Survival List.”

Having spent most of the day at school, it was only now that he found time to wander the campus alone.

The setting sun stretched the shadows of the academic buildings, spilling broad swathes of orange across the red track of the sports field. Classes wouldn’t officially begin until tomorrow, but most first-year students, as well as returning second- and third-years, had already arrived. It was easy to tell them apart—even someone like Chen Shian, who had never attended school before, could spot the difference: those, like him, who wandered the grounds in ordinary clothes were all new students.

His Daoist robe drew more than a little attention. Now and then, Chen Shian caught snippets of whispered curiosity:

“Why is there a Daoist priest at school?”

“He’s actually pretty good-looking!”

Having grown up on a mountain with limited social interactions, Chen Shian had never paid much attention to his own appearance. According to his master, he wasn’t bad-looking: tall, standing at a full 1.8 meters, well-built, with regular features and a calm, mature demeanor rare in someone so young.

He found himself wondering what he would look like in a school uniform, once he shed the Daoist robe.

After a leisurely circuit of the campus, Chen Shian made his way to the cafeteria. It was only a little after five, but there were already quite a few students buying dinner—fortunately, there was no need to queue.

He watched others order their meals, then produced his meal card and stepped up to the counter.

Seeing a Daoist priest, the woman serving food paused in surprise. “What would you like, young master?”

“Could I have some braised pork, shredded pork with dried tofu, shredded potatoes, and greens, please? I’d like it to go.”

“Takeout is one yuan extra,” she replied, expertly filling his order into the meal containers. Perhaps it was the auspicious aura of his Daoist robe, but the woman—who’d had trembling hands all afternoon—found that her hands were steady as she packed his meal, filling his containers to the brim.

After a moment’s thought, Chen Shian said, “Auntie, could you please prepare another identical set to go?”

It was all local, homestyle dishes—nothing he wasn’t accustomed to. He ordered a second portion to bring along when he visited Principal Lin later. Whether or not the principal ate it, it would be rude to show up with only one serving.

Soon enough, both meals were ready. “Do you have a meal card, young master? If not, you can scan to pay or use cash.”

“I have one.” Chen Shian tapped Principal Lin’s meal card on the machine.

Beep.

Payment successful. Balance: 782 yuan.

Principal Lin’s teacher’s card had an 800-yuan meal allowance per month. With Chen Shian’s eating habits, this was more than enough. It was already the last day of August, and yet this was the card’s first use. Principal Lin usually didn’t use his card in the cafeteria—he paid with his face.

Unused balances reset each month, so Chen Shian felt less guilty about using it. Still, he made a mental note to remember Principal Lin’s kindness. Now that he was desk mates with Lin Mengqiu, he could keep an eye on her if needed.

For now, he was short on funds and could only treat Principal Lin to a meal using his card. In the future, once he had more money, he’d throw a proper banquet in gratitude.

With the cat still waiting in the office, Chen Shian collected his meals and headed over to pick it up—he still needed to tidy up the rental with Principal Lin.

“Principal Lin.”

“Shian, just in time. The young lady you’re sharing with is back from work. I’ll take you over now.”