BTO CH12

Coming face-to-face with “oneself” was a bizarre sensation. Having just woken up, Xu Sheng was still somewhat dazed, thinking for a moment that he was trapped in a dream. Only after a beat did he register that this was the fantastical reality he and Shao Zhan were currently living through—one stranger than any dream.

Shao Zhan had woken up earlier and had already accepted the fact that he was still “Xu Sheng” today. Handing over the backpack, he said, “Go to the classroom and hand in the homework.”

He usually never brought his schoolbag back to the dorms; the modest amount of homework assigned by the subject teachers could easily be finished during the ten-minute breaks between classes. Now, however, doing schoolwork between classes was out of the question.

Xu Sheng took it and swung it in his hand. Recalling what he usually did during morning self-study, he noted with a hint of envy, “You can go back to sleep for a bit. Head over to the classroom after the others finish their morning drills. I barely ever show up for morning study hall.”

Xu Sheng’s attendance rate for morning study was indeed abysmal. If he managed to show up three days in a single week, the teachers would suspect the sun was rising from the west.

Showing up every single morning would run counter to his usual routine.

Shao Zhan remained silent for a moment, bypassing the topic of going back to sleep. “Bring out the copybooks.”

Xu Sheng pointed toward the desk, signaling him to inspect them himself.

The first few pages of Xu Sheng’s practice were written with reasonable care, following the stroke orders step-by-step. That patience, however, failed to survive past the first few leaves. By the fifth and sixth pages, the strokes grew messier, chasing speed over quality; the practice grids simply could not contain him.

Youth was arrogant by nature, and an uncontainable wildness bled through every line.

By the final pages, Shao Zhan watched in disbelief as Xu Sheng abandoned running script altogether, inventing an entirely new font and pioneering his own artistic school.

Carrying his bag, Xu Sheng shadowed Shao Zhan. Taking advantage of him flipping through the pages, he propped one hand against the desk corner, leaned in, and pleaded relentlessly: “Zhang Feng remembered it wrong. I’ve never described you like that. Am I the kind of person to badmouth classmates behind their backs? My counteroffer isn’t even asking for much. If ten pages won’t cut it, how about fifteen?”

Shao Zhan shut the copybook, crushing Xu Sheng’s hopes with a single sentence: “If you write like this again tomorrow, it’s thirty pages a day.”

Xu Sheng: “…”

Once the copybooks were inspected, the two decided to exchange notes on their everyday classroom habits to handle any unexpected scenarios that might crop up.

After the briefing concluded, Shao Zhan delivered a final warning: “No sleeping during morning self-study. Go turn in the homework after morning drills.”

Xu Sheng agreed readily: “Deal. And remember to go to King of Hell Gu’s office to get my comic book back.”

During morning self-study, Xu Sheng sat in the classroom daydreaming over an English vocabulary booklet.

At one point, a teacher came in to instruct the class rep to drop by his office later. Glancing at the empty seat beside Xu Sheng, the teacher frowned slightly but said nothing; no one was surprised that Xu Sheng, having endured one full day of morning study, was skipping class the very next day.

Gao Zhibo was now separated from him by the aisle, making it inconvenient to ask questions.

The two classmates in the row ahead were too shy to bother the Study God, given that he had just moved over.

Xu Sheng enjoyed a rare pocket of peace. Even the college entrance exam vocabulary booklet in front of him started looking somewhat bearable. Bored out of his wits, he stared at it for a full half hour and actually managed to memorize most of the words on that page.

After morning drills wrapped up, Xu Sheng counted the homework packets and headed for Meng Guowei’s office.

Meng Guowei was sorting through his lecture slides. Intending to leave the class with a challenging reflection question today, he was wavering between two different prompts. Catching sight of “Shao Zhan” walking in, he waved him over: “Perfect timing. Come here for a second.”

Xu Sheng, who had intended to drop the homework and bolt: “…”

Meng Guowei angled his computer screen toward him. “Take a look at these two prompts.”

Xu Sheng leaned in slightly. Displayed clearly on the screen were two Chinese reading comprehension questions.

He… couldn’t make heads or tails of them.

If he were asked to answer on the spot, he would flawlessly dodge every single scoring criterion.

Fortunately, Meng Guowei wasn’t asking him to solve them; he was simply being indecisive. Finding merit in both, he couldn’t settle on which one to assign: “Considering the content of our next text, which of these reading passages do you think is better for the class?”

As long as he wasn’t doing the problems, anything was fine. Xu Sheng remained remarkably calm: “I think both questions have their merits.”

Meng Guowei nodded in agreement.

Indeed, between the two passages, one was narrative and lyrical, while the other was argumentative.

Xu Sheng glanced at the wall clock. Rather than caring about which question got picked, he was far more concerned with whether Shao Zhan had left the dorms yet and how the retrieval of his comic had gone.

Meng Guowei: “So in your view, which one should we go with?”

Xu Sheng realized that after playing Shao Zhan for a while, he subconsciously tried to mirror the guy’s demeanor. He thought to himself: I’m Shao Zhan right now, the Study God. How would a Study God think?

While Meng Guowei was still agonizing, “Shao Zhan” called out with cool composure: “Teacher.”

Xu Sheng stated calmly, “Both of these questions are equally simple to me… Asking me to choose makes it genuinely hard to tell the difference.”

After grinding through a math problem set in the dorm, Shao Zhan timed his exit carefully.

The flag-raising ceremony had just concluded, and crowds were streaming off the sports field. The mob split into two streams near the basketball courts—one heading toward the academic buildings, and a smaller trickle veering toward the convenience store opposite the cafeteria.

The path to the convenience store overlapped with the dorm route. Several sharp-eyed students spotted him from a distance and gave him a wide berth.

On his second day as “Xu Sheng,” Shao Zhan couldn’t quite put his finger on how he felt.

Taking the stairs two at a time, he made his way up.

King of Hell Gu’s office was on the third floor.

By the time Shao Zhan arrived, a line of students had already formed outside the door, all caught breaking school rules that morning. With the office door wide open, King of Hell Gu summoned them like an emperor holding court, barking after finishing off each student: “Next—”

King of Hell Gu shouted a few times, then looked up: “Xu Sheng?”

Searching his memory, King of Hell Gu couldn’t recall summoning Xu Sheng to his office. Sitting back in his swivel chair with fingers interlaced, he adopted a combative stance to brace for impact: “What are you doing here? Did you break another rule, grow a conscience, and come to turn yourself in?”

Not knowing how Xu Sheng usually reclaimed confiscated items, Shao Zhan opted for a textbook, fail-safe opening: “Director Gu, could I have my comic back?”

Having confiscated the comic, King of Hell Gu had long forgotten about it. He wasn’t the kind of teacher who withheld personal belongings permanently, but Xu Sheng was a repeat offender who constantly tested his limits. He sat bolt upright: “You still have the nerve to ask for it back?!”

Shao Zhan: “…”

Seizing the opportunity, King of Hell Gu began digging up old debts to lecture him furiously: “Not listening in class is bad enough, but you’re running off campus every single day! Did you think I wouldn’t find out about you climbing the wall after school? Just a few days ago, a student reported seeing you brawl with a group of people at an internet cafe. I didn’t even hunt you down, yet here you are delivering yourself to my doorstep! Speak up—what was that internet cafe brawl about?!”

Shao Zhan was rendered speechless.

How could he possibly know what happened at an internet cafe?

He had literally only come to retrieve a comic book.

Legends surrounding Xu Sheng were numerous. While Shao Zhan didn’t follow campus gossip, he had picked up bits and pieces.

Although Xu Sheng was rarely caught climbing over the walls, his habit of constantly slipping outside gradually fueled rampant rumors of “off-campus beatdowns”—one day taking on five guys from the neighboring vocational school, the next day scheduling a fight to the death with some local gangster.

And these rumors, which no one had ever witnessed firsthand, were things Xu Sheng had never bothered to deny.

Fortunately, the bell was about to ring. Noticing a few more students waiting in line behind Shao Zhan, King of Hell Gu decided to manage his time sensibly and skip the lengthy lecture: “Will you dare to read extracurricular books in class next time?”

He was Xu Sheng right now.

If Xu Sheng were standing here, how would he answer?

King of Hell Gu watched as Shao Zhan paused for two seconds, only to utter four ice-cold words that nearly made the director choke on the spot: “I’ll dare again.”

Neither had realized that sometimes, an earnest effort to protect the other’s persona could backfire spectacularly.

The bell rang just as Shao Zhan entered the classroom. As he pulled out his chair and sat down, Xu Sheng put down his pen: “Where’s my comic? What did King of Hell Gu say?”

Shao Zhan relayed the single syllable King of Hell Gu had roared before he left: “He said, ‘Scram.'”

“…”

Surprised as he was, Xu Sheng found it made sense upon closer thought. King of Hell Gu wasn’t easy to negotiate with, and the word “Scram” fit his style completely: “His temper’s that explosive today? Fine, I’ll go get it myself next time.”

The schedule listed this period as Physical Education, but under normal circumstances, it would inevitably be commandeered by another subject.

Someone in the classroom asked, “Class monitor, what are we having this period?”

Class 7’s monitor was a tall boy with a crew cut. Because he was so skinny, he looked a bit like a monkey; aside from “Monitor,” everyone usually called him Monkey Bro: “Yesterday, the math and English teachers were already duking it out for the slot, fighting tooth and nail. Who won today’s period is anyone’s guess.”

The moment the words left his mouth, groans filled the room.

The one who finally entered was the English teacher.

To Xu Sheng, the other subjects were at least taught in a human tongue; forcing himself to stay awake and listen was somewhat manageable. English, however, was something he could neither comprehend by ear nor by eye. Bored to death, Xu Sheng poked Shao Zhan with his pen.

“Stop fidgeting during class.”

“If I don’t move, I’m going to pass out,” Xu Sheng tilted his head back. “Don’t just stick to that one game. Remember to log into the others for the daily check-in rewards.”

Shao Zhan ignored him.

Xu Sheng truly couldn’t hold out much longer. Compared to an English lecture, even this ice block’s face held some entertainment value. Pulling his phone back out, he asked, “Haven’t we added each other as friends yet?”

Their relationship hadn’t warranted adding each other before, but the current situation was exceptional. In this day and age, lacking a direct line meant being unreachable if something went sideways after school.

Realizing this, Shao Zhan didn’t refuse: “Add me after class.”

Xu Sheng slipped the phone into his desk. “Deal.”

Shao Zhan’s QQ handle and profile picture matched his personality, exuding an overwhelming aura of “I have no emotions.” The avatar was a default system icon, and the name was bluntly his real name—simple and crude.

By comparison, Xu Sheng’s flare-heavy selfie avatar looked utterly flamboyant, even if the “selfie” in question was merely a shot of his back against the sun.

Not knowing what to send, Xu Sheng simply left a remark note so the other wouldn’t forget who he had added.

S: Xu Sheng.

The rest of the day’s classes passed without major catastrophe. After the final Chinese period wrapped up, Xu Sheng was summoned once more by Meng Guowei: “Shao Zhan, come here for a moment and hand out these graded exercise books.”

Xu Sheng had only just stepped away.

Having tidied up his materials, Shao Zhan was about to exit through the back door when a boy practically threw himself at him: “Boss—”

Zhang Feng lunged into empty air, quickly spinning around to face “Xu Sheng,” brimming with enthusiasm: “Let’s go!”

Go where?

Zhang Feng added, “The spots at the internet cafe are already claimed! My mom isn’t home today, so I can play a few extra rounds!”

Before Shao Zhan could devise an excuse to refuse, several more figures emerged from behind Zhang Feng, all classmates who used to hang out with Xu Sheng during their freshman year: “Let’s go! The boys haven’t hung out like this in ages.”

With everyone talking at once, Shao Zhan found no room to interject, swept along by the crowd straight out the school gates.

The off-campus internet cafe was already packed. Shoved into a computer chair by Zhang Feng and the others, Shao Zhan pressed the power button, suddenly remembering that he and Xu Sheng had just added each other during class.

He pulled up the chat window with “S”: Get over here right now—

Before he could finish typing the demand, the cafe’s glass door—which always slammed with a loud shudder—swung open with a deafening crash as several young men barged in aggressively! They weren’t old, but they carried an unmistakable street punk air, craning their necks as if hunting for someone.

The cafe was inherently noisy, and irritated by the racket, Shao Zhan looked up impatiently.

That single glance locked eyes directly with the group.

The next second, Shao Zhan watched as one of them began trembling with agitation, pointing a finger straight at him and roaring: “You still have the nerve to show your face here?!” Turning his head, the boy barked, “Big bro, found him! It’s him!”

In an instant, the interrogation King of Hell Gu had aimed at him in the office overlaid perfectly with the scene before him: Speak up—what was that internet cafe brawl about?!