BTO CH1

Linjiang Sixth High School Class of 2019, High School Sophomore Year Beginning-of-Term Assessment, Chinese Paper.

Exam duration: 150 minutes, Total score: 150.
Student’s score: 48.
Math: 36.
English: 22.
Comprehensive Science: 59.

…

Several exam papers were laid out on the office desk. Every single one was covered in an appalling number of red crosses, each paper looking more tragic than the last. The grader had quickly realized that the standard grading method was completely useless for this particular student, so by the next page, there were only a sparse few red checkmarks left.

In the name slot, two characters were written with wild, bared fangs. They were so messy they looked like overgrown weeds, yet the brushstrokes were undeniably sharp.

Student Name: Xu Sheng.

“Take a look at your scores for this assessment.”

“You’re a long way off from even a thirty-point average. Forget about sprinting for the college entrance exams, with your level, you should probably redo middle school!”

Homeroom teacher Meng Guowei’s voice rose as he spoke, his roar echoing down half the corridor outside the office: “Which of these questions haven’t I covered in class? They were essentially free points! If I scattered a handful of rice on the test paper, a chicken would peck at more correct answers than you got! What is wrong with you—did you come to school to learn or just to slack off?!”

Xu Sheng had been standing in the office for six minutes.

He had heard variations of this speech countless times before. He shifted his gaze to the wall clock behind Meng Guowei, casually guessing that the classic line “if you don’t want to learn, pack up and leave early” was about to make its entrance.

Sure enough.

Smack! Meng Guowei slammed the confiscated stack of test papers onto the corner of his desk. “I don’t care what you were like before, but now that you’re in Class 7, you’d better behave. If you don’t want to study properly, get the hell out while you still can!”

Looking rather sleepy, Xu Sheng half-closed his eyes, making it perfectly clear he had no interest in listening to this nonsense.

Meng Guowei: “…”

Although Meng Guowei talked tough, he felt inwardly guilty. He was actually a bit afraid to talk to this student, but having just taken over the class, he felt he had to establish some authority right out of the gate.

The sophomore classes had just been reorganized. Goodness knows what the school administration was thinking—probably trying to strike a balance—but they had shoved two “number ones” into his class. Both the grade’s absolute first place and the grade’s dead last were assigned to him.

The teenager standing by his desk looked completely out of place in the office environment.

All the students coming in and out were properly dressed in their school uniforms. He alone wore a black T-shirt covered in graffiti, and even if you looked closely, you couldn’t make out what the design was supposed to be.

The teenager was tall and lean, his eyes cast downward, looking as though he hadn’t slept nearly enough during morning study hall. Just standing there, he gave off the vibe that he couldn’t care less about anything.

A problem student with absurdly low grades across the board, more on-and-off-campus fighting records than you could count on ten fingers, and a blatant refusal to ever wear a uniform—in all his years of teaching, Meng Guowei had truly never encountered someone like him.

Linjiang Sixth High School was a key school, after all. Though it wasn’t exactly at the top of the pack among the key schools in District A—its admission scores barely scraping the cutoff line—it had just been upgraded from a regular high school two years ago.

Setting the assessment results aside for a moment, Meng Guowei asked, “Where did you go after the exam yesterday? Did you sneak off campus again?”

At this, the teenager finally stood a bit straighter and casually asked, “Did someone see me leave?”

Meng Guowei: “Well, no.”

Xu Sheng pondered for a moment. “Did the security cameras catch me?”

Meng Guowei: “…No to that either.”

Clearly having confirmed that his off-campus excursion had been executed flawlessly, Xu Sheng answered with total candor: “I didn’t leave.”

“…”

Meng Guowei scrambled to organize his thoughts, wanting to say something else. But Xu Sheng had completely run out of patience.

“Sir,” he spoke up, “if this is about my grades, we can stop right here. You just teach your classes. As for whether I study, or how much I study, that’s my own business. You really don’t need to waste your breath on me.”

Xu Sheng’s voice wasn’t loud. The noisy office was filled with the sounds of flipping pages, teachers assigning tasks, and students chatting as they came and went. Since he said it so casually, it didn’t draw any attention.

Meng Guowei, however, heard him loud and clear. He was stunned by such a casual yet arrogant remark. It took him half a minute to respond: “What kind of nonsense is that? Is that any way to speak to a teacher? Then why are you even going to school?!”

Xu Sheng met his eyes without flinching.

It was only then that Meng Guowei noticed that “not wearing the uniform” wasn’t the teenager’s only violation of the school rules; he was even wearing an earring in his right ear. It was black chalcedony ringed in silver. This less-than-subtle black stud had half its edge concealed by his messy bangs.

Why are you even going to school?

That sentence actually echoed in Xu Sheng’s mind a few times.

“Just treat me like I’m here to slack off,” Xu Sheng finally said after a long pause. He reached out, pulled his test papers off the desk, clutched them carelessly in his hand, and added, “Just ignore me.”

Xu Sheng was the only one in the entire class whose exam papers had been confiscated. When he walked into the classroom holding them, the previously bustling room instantly fell silent, as if someone had just hit pause on a movie.

In the front row, a boy with his butt stuck out and his upper body pressed flat against the desk was reaching over to steal a cookie from a classmate in the second row. Seeing Xu Sheng walk in, he froze in that bizarre posture.

“The school tyrant’s killing intent is too strong,” the boy whispered. “I don’t dare move. This is so tiring, just… just give me one of your cookies…”

For all the students of Class 7, from the moment they saw the class placement roster, their mood could only be described by one word: suffocated.

Two days ago, the entire sophomore grade had stood nervously at the school gates.

“Which class is Xu Sheng in?”

“Class 7. Thank god, I’m in Class 6.”

“Fuck, I’m in Class 7…”

“What kind of rotten luck is that, bro? Hang in there. You only have two years of high school left. It’s just two years, right? Time flies like a fleeting white horse, it’ll be over before you know it.”

Who was Xu Sheng?

The infamous school tyrant.

The school’s most notorious deviant.

In their freshman year, the grade director had completely lost his temper over the uniform issue several times. He made Xu Sheng stand as punishment, called his parents, and even made him read a self-reflection in front of the whole school. In the end, it was entirely useless. He simply refused to wear it.

In Linjiang Sixth High School—a school boasting a strong faculty, strict discipline, and the motto “Civilized and Harmonious, Diligent and Pragmatic”—you couldn’t dig up a second student like him even if you went back ten years.

Xu Sheng bypassed them and headed straight for the last row.

Even outside the office, his T-shirt and jeans combo was completely out of place with the surrounding atmosphere, and amidst a sea of grayish-blue uniforms in the classroom, he looked even more conspicuous.

Because he was tall and had been late on registration day, there were only two empty seats left in the class; he had no other option but the last row. The other remaining empty seat was to his left, across an aisle. It had been empty since yesterday, with word going around that the person was on leave.

Xu Sheng didn’t care who the absent student was. He pulled out his chair, intending to go back to sleep. As he dragged the chair back, the boy sitting in front of him couldn’t help but tremble, his pen shaking in his grip.

Xu Sheng thought for a moment, held onto his chair, leaned forward slightly, and patted the guy’s shoulder with his other hand.

The pen in the boy’s hand almost went flying as he was forced to turn around. “Do… do you need something?”

Xu Sheng: “Aren’t you squished?”

“Ah?”

Xu Sheng pointed at the boy’s chest, which was glued tightly to the edge of the desk. He estimated that the guy had left himself no more than thirty centimeters of breathing room. If he wanted to go to the bathroom, his only option was to slide down, squat, and crawl out from under the table. He asked again, “You’re not squished?”

The boy opened his mouth. “I…”

Of course I’m squished, but I don’t dare say it! And I certainly don’t dare sit too close to you!

Waiting for a response proved too tedious for Xu Sheng. He simply reached back and yanked his own desk backward a bit.

During the first period in the morning—English class—Xu Sheng was just about to lie down and meet the Duke of Zhou in his dreams when the window beside him was tapped twice.

Several heads struggled to pry open the window, peering in from the hallway outside. “Boss.”

Xu Sheng had his hands resting behind his neck. Hearing the voices, he tilted his head slightly. “I’m trying to sleep. Spit it out.”

The boy leading this particular group sported the trendy thick bangs of the moment. He had slightly dark skin but looked quite energetic. He sighed and said, “We got split way too far apart this time. You’re in Class 7 and I’m in Class 1, opposite ends of the hallway. How are we supposed to play games together during class now?”

Although Xu Sheng had quite the notorious reputation and most people steered clear of him, at this hot-blooded age, guys didn’t need any special conditions to hang out—playing a couple of matches was enough. Xu Sheng’s popularity wasn’t actually that bad. Back in their freshman year, a crowd always gathered around the back row between every class.

Sometimes, gaming skills were much more practical than academic grades.

Xu Sheng and Zhang Feng’s fateful first game actually stemmed from the first time Xu Sheng read a self-reflection in front of the whole school. After finishing his apology, Xu Sheng’s concluding sentence was: “I was wrong, but I don’t guarantee I won’t do it again next time.”

Upon saying that, the entire school was in an uproar.

Once he got off the flag-raising platform, Zhang Feng told him with utmost sincerity, “Fuck, you’re pretty badass.”

Zhang Feng continued, “Were you just in the teachers’ office? I heard you pissed off your Old Meng pretty badly.”

Xu Sheng was noncommittal.

Having finished his sighing, Zhang Feng continued to eagerly poke his head through the window into their classroom. This time, he didn’t just stick his head in; he kept forcing his upper body through, craning his neck to look all around Class 7.

Xu Sheng finally caught on. He leaned back; his legs were so long that even bent, they stretched out quite a distance. “What exactly are you here for?”

Zhang Feng spilled his true motives: “We’re here to see the Study God.”

Xu Sheng, who had spent the entire assessment sleeping and didn’t care in the slightest about who his classmates were: “?”

“Wait, ‘see’ isn’t the right word. We’re here to pay our respects. Yeah, I’m here to pay homage to the Study God,” Zhang Feng said. “You know, the guy who got first place in the entire school for the high school entrance exams, won first prize in the municipal league in his freshman year, and got turned into a massive poster slapped right on the school’s Wall of Honor. Did you really not know? Your class got super creative with the placements this year: they put you and the Study God in the same room.”

Hearing this, Xu Sheng suddenly laughed.

He beckoned Zhang Feng over. “Come here. Tell me a bit closer.”

Zhang Feng leaned in, completely defenseless.

Xu Sheng swiftly rolled up the exam papers he had just brought back from the office and whacked him over the head with them. “Are you fucking looking for a beating? If you’re looking for the Study God, then look for the Study God—what’s with the shade? Having you walk over here vertically and be carried out horizontally would also be pretty creative. Wanna try it out?”

“My bad, big bro, I shouldn’t have mocked you,” Zhang Feng bent over to dodge backward, muttering as he retreated. “But bro, I’ve been looking for ages and haven’t seen him. Is everyone in your class here?”

Well, no, they actually weren’t all here.

Xu Sheng tossed the exam papers onto his desk. His gaze swept across the narrow aisle next to him and landed on the empty seat by his side.

In the teachers’ office.

The class bell rang, but Meng Guowei was still so immersed in the conversation he’d just had with the new problem student in his class that he couldn’t pull himself out of it.

A teacher walked past him carrying lesson plans. Seeing that he was still analyzing Xu Sheng’s scores, the teacher paused and said, “Don’t overthink it, Mr. Meng. That kid has always been like this. Back in his freshman year, several teachers tried to straighten him out, and nothing worked. If you really can’t help him, just let it go. It’s true that not every student actually wants to study.”

Meng Guowei was different from other teachers; his temper immediately flared up. “I just don’t believe I can’t fix him. In my twenty-plus years of teaching, the word ‘give up’ has never been in Meng Guowei’s dictionary.”

“…”

“Mr. Meng, I support you in spirit,” the teacher said, glancing at the time. “Ah, enough chatting, I’ve got to go to class.”

Another teacher, however, was interested in the topic. While grading homework, he asked, “Old Meng, you got any ideas?”

Meng Guowei had been deep in thought earlier and had even flipped through a few copies of How to Properly Guide Students. He really had come up with a plan: “He probably harbors some resentment toward teachers, so I’m going to try a one-on-one mentorship. I’ll find a good student to guide him along.”

As he spoke, Meng Guowei pulled out another stack of test papers from the side.

Xu Sheng wasn’t the only one whose test papers had been kept back. Next to the spot where Xu Sheng’s stack had sat another pile of papers. Only, the reason these had been held back was entirely different—Xu Sheng’s were kept because he had tested so terribly, while these were kept simply because the answers were too perfect. The teachers had kept them to use as a model, printing dozens of copies to distribute among the classes.

Aside from losing six points in Chinese, almost every other subject was a perfect score.

On the very top paper of the stack, the first line read: Linjiang Sixth High School Class of 2019, High School Sophomore Year Beginning-of-Term Assessment, Math Paper, Total score: 150, Student’s score: 150.

Student Name: Shao Zhan.