BTO CH15

Having weathered life’s dramatic twists and turns alongside one bizarre crisis after another, Xu Sheng had pretty much acclimated to the high-intensity rollercoaster ride.

Putting on the act of being “Shao Zhan” was becoming second nature.

He feigned complete composure as he flipped to the next page of the vocabulary booklet.

Shao Zhan stepped into the classroom ten minutes later than him.

The moment he passed the back window, before he had even shown his face, the room went quiet. The students at the desk ahead immediately lowered their heads, acting deeply devoted to their studies with zero interest in gossip, bringing an abrupt halt to their discussion on “there’s no smoke without fire.”

Shao Zhan pulled out his chair. The very first thing out of his mouth was: “You memorized that page the day before yesterday.”

Twirling a pen in his fingers, Xu Sheng glanced sideways at him, flipped the booklet back, then forward, checking repeatedly, but drew a total blank: “I memorized this?”

Shao Zhan reached over, his finger tapping right on the word Blame.

Xu Sheng: “Impossible. I’ve never seen this word before in my life.”

“Blame,” Shao Zhan’s English pronunciation was remarkably pleasant to the ear. At the very least, Xu Sheng had never heard such crisp, standard pronunciation come out of his own mouth, clipped short with absolute precision. Withdrawing his hand, Shao Zhan leaned back and added, “You stared at this page for twenty whole minutes, and you’re telling me you’ve never seen it?”

Xu Sheng: “…”

Put that way, he did seem to have a vague impression of it.

“This page, I thought I’d already mastered it,” Xu Sheng flipped back once more, muttering, “but looking at it again today, it feels completely alien.”

Shao Zhan was thoroughly despairing of this top-tier slacker inhabiting his body.

Xu Sheng found it strange too. How could he, the person actually attempting to memorize the vocabulary, be less familiar with the words than the guy next to him who had merely glanced over while reading manga?

What kind of creature was a Study God, anyway?

Little did he know, Shao Zhan was thinking the exact same thing: What on earth is packed inside a slacker’s head?

Today was Friday.

Friday’s schedule was a bit unusual; the final period was homeroom. Ahead of class, the class monitor received advance notice, stepping up to the podium to announce: “Listen up, everyone. A quick heads-up: Old Meng plans to reshuffle the class committee during homeroom. Anyone interested in running for a position can start preparing now.”

“Monkey Bro, you’re not going to be our monitor anymore?”

Hou Jun retorted, “You guys have the nerve to ask? Look at what you did to me the other day—”

Monkey Bro’s real name was Hou Jun. Aside from his appearance, the nickname had a lot to do with his surname. He was forthright and loyal, not the kind of student leader who simply brown-nosed the teachers, and he genuinely dared to speak up for his peers.

Back when physical education got hijacked, he was pushed forward to negotiate with the English teacher: “Fine! For you guys, I’ll put myself on the line.” He had then stood up and declared to the teacher: “Teacher, I believe that compared to knowledge, a strong, healthy physique is also vital!”

It ended with him doing twenty push-ups right in the middle of class.

The English teacher had counted along while asking, “Strong enough yet? Need to be stronger? Ten more?” She had then turned to the room, “Anyone else want a strong and healthy physique?”

The whole class had chimed in with instant, unanimous betrayal: “We’re not like the monitor! We all think knowledge is much more important!”

Amused by the memory, Xu Sheng fiddled with his phone during the break, then tapped Shao Zhan’s desk: “When they pick the committee later, do you want me to keep your Chinese class rep position?”

Though called an official election, it was really just an adjustment.

The day before term started, Linjiang Sixth High had sadistically scheduled a baseline assessment exam. Self-introductions and committee assignments had been rushed through in record time beforehand.

Anyone willing to serve had raised a hand; where no one volunteered, names were picked on the spot to scrape through the first week before revisiting it later.

Consequently, before Class 7 could even match faces to names, the baseline exam had battered them into a daze where nothing remained except test questions and sheer dread over final scores.

Shao Zhan had been handpicked by Meng Guowei to serve as class rep. He said, “No need. Too troublesome.”

Having answered, Shao Zhan turned it back on him: “What about you?”

It took Xu Sheng a second to realize Shao Zhan was asking if he wanted to run for something. Between the two of them, every move now required considering the other person. He said, “No need for me either. It’s not just a matter of trouble, if I became a class officer, before homeroom even ended, the whole grade would think Class 7 had lost its mind.”

Shao Zhan dropped the subject, lowering his gaze to his problems. Having survived these past few days, his patience had run dry. Unwilling to waste more time, he pulled out a mock exam and slipped it beneath his extracurricular book: “I’m going to work through a paper. Call me if anything happens.”

Xu Sheng gave his word to put him at ease: “I’ll definitely get you off the hook for class rep. Heading to Old Meng’s office every day to drop off homework carries too much risk. I’m terrified he’ll get happy one day and toss a question my way.”

The bell rang.

Meng Guowei entered with a stack of trimmed slips of paper: “First order of business: our trial run for the class committee has been going for nearly a week. If anyone wishes to step down, raise it now and we’ll hold a new vote.”

From the back row, Xu Sheng was the very first to raise his hand.

Seeing the Study God step down so decisively, others who had felt awkward about it raised their hands one after another.

Meng Guowei had framed it as an open call, but his real goal had been securing Shao Zhan. He hadn’t expected his star student to be the first to quit: “Shao Zhan, tell us: why don’t you want to be class rep?”

Xu Sheng stood up, his speech already prepared. Resting one hand on the desk, he declared with absolute solemnity: “Teacher, because I wish to dedicate my finite life to the infinite pursuit of learning.”

Meng Guowei: “…”

Shao Zhan: “…”

Just as Xu Sheng got out the first syllable of his next line: “I—”

He was cut off abruptly as Shao Zhan caught him by the wrist hanging at his side. The heat of the boy’s palm was scorching, the yank pulling him straight back into his seat.

Xu Sheng: “I wasn’t finished.”

Shao Zhan: “You don’t need to say another word.”

Meng Guowei was left dumbfounded by “Shao Zhan’s” statement, at a loss for words: “Sit down then. Since student Shao Zhan wishes to dedicate his life to the infinite pursuit of learning… does anyone else want to step up?”

Pushed and cheered on by his row, a boy sitting behind Hou Jun stood up. His entire group acted like a personal hype squad: “Teacher, Literary Giant!”

“Give Literary Giant a shot, Teacher! He’s wanted to be class rep for ages!”

The boy looked frail and scholarly, sporting gold wire-rimmed glasses. His voice wasn’t loud, but it was clear he had summoned immense courage to stand up. Raising two fingers to nudge up the frames sliding down his nose, he said, “Teacher, I’d like to try.”

Shen Wenhao might look meek, but he had plenty of personality. The moment he stepped onto the podium, he pulled a slip of paper folded like a tofu block from his uniform pocket. Unfolding it, he cleared his throat: “For our homeroom period today, I have composed a poem.”

Spectacular.

It even came with a poetry recitation.

Thunderous applause erupted below.

“Recalling the days of green youth, I shall embark upon my crusade—”

Xu Sheng clapped along. He never minded non-academic periods, often listening with genuine amusement: “Is his surname Shen?”

Working through his calculations, Shao Zhan offered an utterly perfunctory note of surprise at the fact that Xu Sheng actually remembered a classmate’s name: “Did you memorize people with the back of your head during the baseline exam?”

Though he hadn’t matched Xu Sheng’s face to his name back then, they were only separated by an aisle. On top of that, Xu Sheng had spent the entire baseline exam sleeping face-down on his desk, his messy bangs shielding his face and his fingers resting loosely behind his neck, an arrogant demeanor carried with such casual low profile that it was impossible to ignore.

“No, the school magazine published an article he wrote. I read it while getting chewed out in King of Hell Gu’s office,” Xu Sheng recalled, piecing together a few scattered plotlines. “It was pretty entertaining, read just like a novel.”

As Xu Sheng spoke, he continued listening to the recitation.

Starting from the line recalling green youth, Shen Wenhao’s poem broadly traced his emotional journey from crippling shyness to finally gathering the courage to take the stage. Lowering his head, he declaimed: “Like a rose—shyly blossoming in Bordeaux.”

“…”

Having just taken over the class, Meng Guowei knew little about his students’ diverse talents. He never imagined that alongside Xu Sheng, who lazily scribbled nonsensical verses on exams to pad word counts, his class harbored this kind of literary prodigy.

A few more students took the stage afterward.

Having wrapped up his calculations, Shao Zhan noticed his surroundings had grown considerably quieter.

Glancing sideways, he saw Xu Sheng had put some space between their desks. Leaning back in his seat in his usual careless manner, eyes lowered, he was listening to a girl with an ear-length bob deliver her speech: “Hello everyone, my name is Qiu Qiu. I’m running for Arts and Culture Representative. In our freshman year, I led our class to second place in the blackboard bulletin evaluation. I hope you’ll give me a chance.”

Meng Guowei led the applause: “Excellent. That concludes our homeroom period. If anyone has further questions, find me between classes. Boarding students staying on campus, remember to prioritize safety and adhere to student conduct guidelines…”

Linjiang Sixth High was draconian with its break schedules, especially for boarders. Operating on a closed-campus management system, they essentially only got to go home once a month.

Xu Sheng hadn’t expected that having that massive falling-out with Xu Yaping before the term started, moving out of the house straight into school, would actually make their current predicament far simpler.

He didn’t dare imagine what would happen if Shao Zhan had to go home in his place wearing that frozen glare.

At the thought, Xu Sheng asked, “Are you heading home this weekend?”

Without looking up, Shao Zhan countered, “You want to visit my house?”

…Obviously not.

Shao Zhan was nearly done with his practice test. He worked at remarkable speed; after skimming a problem, he would pull out scrap paper and calculate the answer in just two or three lines.

Xu Sheng was waiting for Meng Guowei to hurry up and wrap up his closing remarks so he could head straight back to the dorms, but Meng Guowei showed no signs of stopping.

As he listened, Xu Sheng couldn’t help eyeing the scratch at the corner of Shao Zhan’s mouth to see how it was healing. It hadn’t been deep to begin with; after one night, it was already showing signs of scabbing over.

It was his own face, after all.

Taking another look, Xu Sheng warned with concern, “Whatever you do, don’t pick at it. I’ll buy you some scar-removal gel later.”

Xu Sheng looked again: “Though it does look pretty badass right now… I’m not complimenting you, by the way. I’m complimenting myself.”

“…”

Shao Zhan set down his pen. Normally, nobody dared babble endlessly in his ear. Without looking up, he flipped the test paper over while clamping a hand over Xu Sheng’s head, forcibly turning him back around: “Quiet.”

Perhaps because swapping identities forced them to scrutinize each other’s every move, Xu Sheng realized that Shao Zhan could be genuinely cold and merciless at times. For him, high school life seemed to consist solely of textbooks and test sheets; staring at those two things held infinitely more warmth than looking at any human being.

Meanwhile, though Shao Zhan had no interest in dissecting the rumors surrounding Xu Sheng, the net cafe incident had cut straight through the fog of “one-versus-five” and “school tyrant.” What lay beneath was a completely different person; sometimes putting on airs, willing to stand up for others, and incapable of ever acting proper.