BTO CH17

Xu Sheng was just about to close out a win in this match. Everyone held their breath, especially the teammates queued with him, clutching their phones so tightly they barely dared to exhale.

“Only one left…”

“Is he on the opposite side?”

“Playing this Challenger-tier lobby like a Bronze smurf, zero difficulty. Next match, let’s just hot-drop the Colosseum.”

“Hold on,” with too many people crowding him, Xu Sheng leaned back. “Let me chuck a grenade.”

As he spoke, he began lining up the distance. The bullshit parabola he had spouted earlier flashed a red arc across the screen. The very next second, something pressed firmly against his forehead—only a beat later did he realize it was Shao Zhan’s hand.

With bent fingers, Shao Zhan’s protruding knuckle rested right against his brow, delivering a distinct flick to his forehead.

“Get up.”

The teenager’s voice was edged with frost.

Xu Sheng looked up, finding “himself” standing by the desk. That face was even colder than the voice. Testing the waters, he offered, “I’m about to win. Let me finish this match?”

The expression opposite him remained dark.

Xu Sheng added another line: “Or… wanna play together next round?”

What happened to never breaking character? That original pledge had long been tossed beyond the ninth heaven by Xu Sheng.

Given his nature of never bottling things up and doing whatever he pleased, barely remembering who he was supposed to be over the past few days had already been a miracle. Once the initial novelty of “playing the role” wore off, waking up each morning to find he was still Shao Zhan meant that, alongside helpless resignation, reverting to his true colors was only a matter of time.

Their personalities and tempers were worlds apart; even blood brothers couldn’t necessarily mirror each other flawlessly, let alone two people who hadn’t known each other before this.

If the personas were going down, they might as well crash and burn together.

Seeing Shao Zhan pull his hand back, Xu Sheng heard him say: “Not playing. I want to study. Once you’re done with this round, come over and explain the reflection question from today’s class.”

…

Fuck.

Could this be the legendary mutually assured destruction?

The grenade in Xu Sheng’s hand veered off course, revealing his character’s position. Flustered from having his forehead flicked, he lost focus on the match, and the tides instantly turned.

Final Standing: #2 / 100.

Yet nobody cared about the match results. Compared to the stats, “Xu Sheng” uttering the words I want to study was infinitely more earth-shattering.

Not daring to speak directly to “Xu Sheng,” Hou Jun tapped their “Zhan-ge” on the shoulder instead: “Zhan-ge? What’s the situation here?”

Handing the phone back to Hou Jun, Xu Sheng had no choice but to clean up Shao Zhan’s mess. Rubbing his nose, he improvised: “He… with my guidance recently, he’s realized the importance of studying and intends to turn over a new leaf.”

Spinning this story wasn’t a total loss—Shao Zhan genuinely needed to grind problems anyway, solving them before passing the answers over.

Since he had already taken the narrative this far, Xu Sheng threw in a few extra good words for himself: “Actually, he’s not what you think. He’s very peaceful, never bullies classmates, likes laying out the facts to reason things through, and doesn’t resort to fists easily.”

“You guys probably all have the wrong impression of him.”

“…I-is that so?”

“He really wants to fit in with everyone too,” Xu Sheng patted Hou Jun’s shoulder before getting up. “I’m heading over to explain the problem.”

Hou Jun’s jaw hadn’t shut since it dropped.

Hou Jun hadn’t won the class monitor election unanimously for nothing; he cared deeply about class harmony and was exceptionally attentive to everyone’s feelings. Hearing this, he glanced back toward “Xu Sheng,” who was already seated, catching only that icy profile.

Could it be that buried beneath this iceberg lay an endless reservoir of tenderness?

Hearing this pitch, Hou Jun and the rest of the boys felt exactly the way King of Hell Gu had felt on the first day of the swap, listening to Xu Sheng blow smoke for ten uninterrupted minutes with a straight face.

Is this the Xu Sheng they knew?

The same guy?

Are they sure they didn’t just share the same name?

Did Linjiang Sixth High’s Sophomore Class 7 really have someone like this? Why did it sound so utterly foreign?

They didn’t get time to ponder.

Speak of the devil, and the devil arrives.

Having eaten and drunk his fill, King of Hell Gu decided to drop by the high school department to check on the students before clocking out. Strolling down the corridor from Class 1 to Class 7, he stopped dead at the back door of Class 7 and cleared his throat with a thunderous rasp: “What are you all doing?! Hou Jun! How are you running this class? Are you managing class discipline or not?!”

The boys scrambled back to their respective seats instantly, settling down into obedient self-study.

After evening study wrapped up, perhaps because the gaming camaraderie forged earlier ran too deep, Hou Jun and the others warmly invited Zhan-ge to walk back to the dorms together.

“Zhan-ge, which floor are you on?”

“Third floor,” Xu Sheng packed away the homework “Shao Zhan” had just finished. “Heading back together?”

Hou Jun piped up immediately: “Deal! The Sports Rep and I live right above you, so let’s walk back as a group.”

Shao Zhan capped his pen. While he hadn’t stopped Xu Sheng from mingling with them, he had zero intention of joining this crew.

Yet just as he rose to his feet, Hou Jun—looking as though he had wrestled with his conscience for ages before finally mustering his courage—called out to him: “Student Xu Sheng, please wait!”

Hou Jun had spent the entire evening self-study mulling over what “Shao Zhan” had told him, so much so that he hadn’t even finished his homework.

Thinking it through carefully, Xu Sheng really hadn’t done anything heinous in class, falling far short of the classic “school bully” trope. While the off-campus rumors were murky, you truly couldn’t write off a classmate based on hearsay alone!

Too judgmental!

Besides, this classmate currently showed signs of wanting to reform—the guy had openly declared he wanted to study with his own mouth.

Of course, none of that was the core reason. The real clincher was that the endorsement had come straight from the Study God.

Who would ever question the Study God? In Linjiang Sixth High, the Study God was a divine entity!

Pushing his chair in, Shao Zhan looked up at Hou Jun.

Scratching his head with visible embarrassment, Hou Jun ventured: “Um, well… why don’t you walk back with us too?”

Shao Zhan wondered if his ears were malfunctioning.

Hou Jun sighed: “Truth be told, I’ve been a pretty terrible monitor, failing to see that you actually wanted to fit in with everyone…”

Shao Zhan thought to himself: I genuinely had zero desire to fit in.

To his surprise, the more Hou Jun spoke, the more emotionally invested he became, preaching with full conviction: “Our Class 7 is a big family! Every single student in Class 7 welcomes you with open arms. As long as you reform, turn over a new leaf, and keep your focus on your studies like you did today—”

Having gathered his things, Xu Sheng pushed his chair in just as Hou Jun reached the “big family” part. Standing for less than ten seconds felt tiring, so he hopped up to sit directly on the desk, even taking the lead in clapping enthusiastically.

Tan Kai: “Hear, hear! Well said!”

“Spoken brilliantly!”

Shao Zhan: “…”

Standing frozen for a few seconds, Shao Zhan locked eyes with the ringleader leading the applause, his silence adding an extra layer of frosty menace. Accustomed to being a lone wolf, he was naturally aloof and antisocial; standing there, he practically radiated a neon sign that read Keep Your Distance.

Xu Sheng’s clapping hands paused.

After letting his gaze linger on him for two beats, Shao Zhan turned on his heel and walked straight out.

Hou Jun and the others were left completely bewildered. Xu Sheng scrambled to patch things up: “He’s shy. Nothing else to it—he’s just really shy.”

Tan Kai: “The school tyrant is this innocent and pure-hearted?”

Backed into a corner, Xu Sheng had no choice but to swallow the label: “…Spot on. You could look at it that way.”

Waving toward Shao Zhan’s retreating figure, Hou Jun and the boys tightened the straps on their backpacks and jogged to catch up: “Wait up, don’t walk so fast! No need to be shy!”

The walk back to the dorms was rowdy. A pack of teenage boys huddled together seemed to have an endless stream of things to say. It wasn’t actually that loud, but Shao Zhan’s side was rarely accompanied by this kind of chatter.

The group finally split off once they reached the third floor.

Xu Sheng’s evening self-study had passed reasonably well—no more drowning in boredom, and no more faking deep contemplation over exercise workbooks. The only hitch was when Hou Jun and the others eagerly invited him to the class group chat; unable to whip out his phone, he had to pretend the battery was dead.

Back in his dorm, he flopped onto the bed for a while.

Too lazy to move, he was just about to close his eyes when the phone screen lit up.

Two messages: one from Zhang Feng, and one from the antisocial desk mate across the hall.

The one from his desk mate didn’t even need to be opened—it contained only two words.

Shao Zhan: Calligraphy practice.

Calligraphy, copybooks, twenty pages.

Just thinking of those keywords gave Xu Sheng a pounding headache.

He didn’t reply, choosing temporary evasion, and tapped open the next thread instead.

He had worried Zhang Feng would probe him about the study situation and was brainstorming how to spin it, but clicking into the chat revealed that Zhang Feng’s message had nothing to do with academics. He had sent a link—a massively long string of characters resembling a garbled mess of code.

S: What’s this?

Zhang Feng replied instantly: A forum thread.

S: Can you finish your sentence in one go? What thread? Why are you sending it to me?

Zhang Feng: The campus heartthrob voting is about to kick off! As one of the top contenders, I gotta hustle for votes! Once you click in, hit the button for Zhang Feng to cast your precious vote! Pick me! Huge thanks to all the school producers voting for me!

Xu Sheng’s brain turned over slowly and with great difficulty before he barely recalled what this “campus heartthrob” contest was.

Linjiang Sixth High had a rigid academic system where students generally toed the line. Still, being sixteen or seventeen and in the thick of adolescence, the students maintained plenty of extracurricular hobbies out of sight of the faculty—and this campus heartthrob contest was one of them.

Outside of official administration, the school Tieba forum had practically evolved into a mini-community and dating hub, juggling campus services like petty drama, romantic confessions, and lost-and-found notices.

The standard template went like this: Does anyone know [Name] from Class [X]? Looking for their contact info~ (⁄ ⁄•⁄ω⁄•⁄ ⁄)

Zhang Feng was decent-looking, had a knack for charming people, and hanging out with Xu Sheng gave him high visibility.

Scrolling down the candidate roster, his name sat near the very bottom.

Xu Sheng scrolled for so long he nearly lost his patience before finally spotting the name Zhang Feng.

S: Your rank is on the verge of falling off the board entirely. You call this a top contender?

Zhang Feng took an arrow straight to the chest.

Zhang Feng: Did you really have to stab your bro like that?

A moment later, another ping arrived from Zhang Feng.

Zhang Feng: Speaking of which, Boss, both you and the Study God are on the leaderboard. Aren’t you gonna rally some votes for yourself?

Xu Sheng thought to himself: Am I insane? Wasting time on this nonsense—is twenty pages of copybooks not enough writing, or are video games not fun anymore?

S: Not interested.

The origins of the campus heartthrob contest traced back to an idle argument over whether Guy A from Class 1 or Guy B from Class 2 was hotter. After spiraling, it had evolved into a full-blown campus-wide pageant.

Held once every three years, it was rapidly solidifying into an unofficial Linjiang Sixth High tradition.

Though Xu Sheng had a terrible reputation, his face was undeniable. A wild, unbridled school-tyrant persona was catnip for plenty of girls—though they only dared admire him from behind their screens; it wasn’t like the school tyrant could track them through the ethernet cables to beat them up.

Without bothering to check where he was ranked, he headed straight for the shower, then sat at the study desk to clear his daily quest: calligraphy practice.

The three characters Liu Qingchun were destined to leave a deep, indelible scar on his high school career.

Time spent practicing penmanship was always dry and monotonous.

Opening the copybook, Xu Sheng was startled to realize he had actually finished an entire volume without noticing. Pulling a fresh one from the bag, he flipped it open with quiet endurance.

By the time he finished writing, lights out had just arrived across the dorm building.

Lying in bed, Zhang Feng’s comment lingered stubbornly in his mind for reasons unknown: “Speaking of which, both you and the Study God are on the leaderboard.”

Both he and Shao Zhan were on the board.

Zhang Feng had sent several follow-up messages, which Xu Sheng had ignored.

Zhang Feng: You really not gonna look?

Zhang Feng: Really zero interest?

Zhang Feng: Then at least vote for me, will ya? Did you vote for me?

What Zhang Feng didn’t know was that the guy claiming to be “not interested” tossed and turned in bed for a while before slipping an arm out from under the light summer blanket, swiping his phone off the adjacent study desk.

Linjiang Sixth High Tieba.

3rd Campus Heartthrob Contest: Voting Portal [Hot] [Hot] [Hot]

OP: Our school’s traditional contest is back! Following the preliminary round, we have selected 100 high-demand contenders. The voting window is open for one week. If you like them, cast your votes! In this moment, everyone is a school producer! So, school producers, who holds the title of heartthrob in your heart?

Beneath the introductory post lay an extensive voting roster.

1. Shao Zhan [4,085 votes]
2. Xu Sheng [3,806 votes]

…

Normally, he was never the type to care about this kind of trivial nonsense. Yet a person’s competitive drive is a peculiar thing—especially when the other party had crossed paths with you in less-than-pleasant ways.

Is twenty pages of copybooks not enough writing, or are video games not fun anymore?

Thinking this, Xu Sheng tapped the vote button for Contestant #2: Xu Sheng.