Chapter 52: The Class Leader Is Rather Impressed By You

When Chen Shian resolved to rely on his own efforts, he found himself already swept into a certain vortex—unable, it seemed, to follow his original plan.

After the lunch break, Lin Mengqiu entered the classroom just as she had the day before, a sheen of sweat at her temples, carrying her heavy backpack. With a thud, she dropped it onto the desk.

Her expression was as impassive as ever. She pulled out a tissue to wipe her sweat, then unscrewed her water bottle and took a sip. Unlike the other students, who kept their tissues in their desk drawers, hers always sat on the tabletop—and no one ever dared to take one without her leave.

Chen Shian glanced at her bulging backpack, then at her flushed, heat-reddened face, and ventured a question:

“Class monitor, did you go home again?”

“Mhm,” Lin Mengqiu replied without looking up, crumpling the used tissue in her slender palm, and with a swift motion, unzipped her backpack.

Through the opening, Chen Shian caught a glimpse inside—all old workbooks, reference books, and test papers.

Before he could see which subjects they were, the girl's delicate hands had already separated them into two piles and set them in the middle of their shared desk.

“Eighth Grade Math: Nine Sets of Specialized Practice,” “Eighth Grade Math: New Thinking for Exploratory Application,” “Eighth Grade Math: Advanced Practice Papers”...

Chen Shian was taken aback. He picked up one of the books and flipped through it. Just like the seventh-grade workbook she’d lent him yesterday, these too were filled with her own completed exercises.

“Class monitor, are you lending these to me?”

“Mhm.”

What was going on... He hadn’t even finished the seventh-grade workbook she’d lent him yesterday, nor started learning that semester’s textbook, and now she was already offering him all the eighth-grade ones? It was a bit of a surprise.

Seeing his confusion, Lin Mengqiu raised an eyebrow, her expression faintly displeased.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, class monitor. I haven’t finished the seventh-grade workbook you lent me yesterday, and I haven’t studied that textbook yet.”

“You’ll need them sooner or later.”

“Well, that’s true.”

“Are you not planning to borrow them?”

“...”

Chen Shian turned his head and saw a chill in the girl’s gaze, an inexplicable sense of crisis welling up in his heart.

“Of course I want to borrow them from you, class monitor. Who else could I ask? I found the seventh-grade workbook really helpful—it made a big difference for me. I just didn’t expect you’d give me the eighth-grade ones so soon. It’s a pleasant surprise.”

“...”

“Class monitor, you’re really kind. It’s so hot out, and you went through all this trouble.”

“~~~”

The coldness vanished from her eyes, and her brows relaxed. Her already red, heat-flushed cheeks seemed even redder.

She averted her gaze, organizing her now-empty backpack, and asked casually, “How far have you gotten in English?”

“I’m almost done with seventh grade.”

She was silent for a moment. After putting away her bag, she took out the books she’d need for the next class and added, “Math and English are both core subjects, worth the same on exams. English is easier and can raise your score quickly, but math is the foundation of all sciences. You can’t afford to lag behind in progress.”

“Class monitor, you’re absolutely right. I’ll catch up in math as soon as I can.”

“Mhm.” She paused, then said, “If you have questions, ask me.”

“Thank you, class monitor. Here, have some candy.”

As he spoke, Chen Shian fished out two lollipops from his drawer and placed them on her desk.

He’d bought a whole handful yesterday—these were the last two. He’d given Lin Mengqiu two last night as a “desk-mate fee,” but those were long gone. Who knew if she’d eaten them?

After setting the lollipops on her desk, Chen Shian began to sort his books. He’d only been at the school two days and already had a stack of books and workbooks on his desk as tall as anyone else’s.

By the time he glanced back at Lin Mengqiu’s desk, the two lollipops had disappeared. Nor had he seen her eat them—he wondered where she’d stashed them.

Her cheeks were still red with heat, but her expression was cool and distant, an oddly endearing contrast, like a lychee in June—its red peel covered in tiny spikes.

Chen Shian quietly sent a current of cool air her way.

Sensing something, she turned to look out the window, then, puzzled, glanced back and resumed reading.

…

There were three classes that afternoon: math first, then PE, then Chinese.

During science periods, Chen Shian studied math on his own, and of course, during math class as well.

He didn’t rush. First, he leafed through the eighth-grade workbook Lin Mengqiu had just given him, to see how far he could get with a seventh-grade foundation.

Unfortunately, not far at all—seventh-grade math really was very basic.

Someone like Lin Mengqiu would know: it didn’t matter how solid your middle school math was. If you jumped straight to high school math, you’d still be lost. But you couldn’t skip the basics, either. Chinese, English, even biology—you could start with high school material if needed. But not math.

Flipping through the workbook, Chen Shian noticed something interesting—

In Lin Mengqiu’s seventh-grade workbook, there were frequent little doodles labeled “Crying Bunny.” In the eighth-grade ones, almost none.

He surreptitiously pulled out the second-semester seventh-grade book and glanced through it. The frequency of the “Crying Bunny” doodles visibly dropped.

No more difficulties, perhaps. Or, when she did encounter troubles, she’d learned to hide her feelings.

They say girls mature earlier than boys, and adolescence often brings dramatic changes in personality. Maybe, starting in seventh grade, she’d begun to discover her own way of surviving in the world.

Chen Shian had no way of seeing into her past, nor did he know what she’d been like as a child. But from these objects that had accompanied her from childhood into adolescence, he could still glean a few faint clues.

Unable to resist, he whispered, “Class monitor, how were your grades in the second semester of seventh grade?”

Lin Mengqiu listened intently to the lesson, ignoring him.

“Hmm?”

But if she didn’t reply, this pesky guy would just keep staring at her, waiting for an answer.

So annoying! Minus one point for you!

“Top five.”

Chen Shian blinked. He recalled that when he’d asked about her first semester grades yesterday, she’d said “top ten.” So now it was top five.

He knew that when people answered this way, it almost always meant they were tenth, or fifth—no need to say it outright.

“What about eighth grade?”

“First.”

“Ninth grade?”

“First.”

“What about your first year of high school?”

Lin Mengqiu turned to look at him.

Chen Shian fell silent, not daring to ask further.

Lin Mengqiu finally had peace. She stole a glance at him out of the corner of her eye—he was already in a state of flow, completely absorbed in his math.

…

After math class, the classroom buzzed with excitement—next was PE.

In the school’s relentless, high-pressure atmosphere, the two PE lessons a week were everyone’s legitimate excuse to relax.

Chen Shian had been to one PE class before, where the kids just played around, and the PE teacher had doubled as the math teacher.

But things were clearly different now, and he was curious about high school PE.

“Class monitor, what do we do in PE?” he asked, closing his workbook.

Lin Mengqiu could hardly believe it.

Not because he didn’t know about PE, but because he always seemed to have so much to say…

Ever since eighth grade, her deskmates had rarely spoken to her—her cool, distant, and reserved manner put people off. If they had questions, they’d rather ask someone else. She enjoyed the quiet.

Even her high school deskmate had been the same.

But not Chen Shian. He seemed oblivious to the invisible wall around her—he spoke when he wanted, asked questions when he wanted, exuding a rare, natural ease. People like that were either simple-minded or had extraordinary inner strength.

Clearly, Chen Shian wasn’t simple-minded. So Lin Mengqiu felt a grudging respect for him, and a helplessness—beside his relaxed manner, she felt like a cornered, prickly little hedgehog…

“Hmm?” Chen Shian prompted.

See? If you ignored him, he’d just stare at you until you answered!

Lin Mengqiu wasn’t socially anxious, nor had she ever imagined someone as thick-skinned as Chen Shian could make her feel socially pressured.

“Wait for the PE teacher’s instructions.”

“Where do we have PE?”

“We line up downstairs first.”

“All right.”

Chen Shian left his seat and went to the podium to wipe the blackboard.

As soon as he walked away, Lin Mengqiu inexplicably felt a sense of relief—

It had always been her deskmates who breathed easier when they were away from her. Now, the roles were reversed.

As soon as “the Taoist” left his safe zone, a few boys gathered around him.

“Hey, Taoist! Show us a dunk later!”

“Yeah, give us a show! We missed it yesterday!”

“I brought my phone today—I have to record your glorious moment!”

Chen Shian’s eyebrow twitched as he saw the basketballs in their hands.

Again?

I still haven’t apologized to Uncle Lin yet!