BTO CH16

Hou Jun and a few others were all boarders. The proportion of boarding students in Class 7 wasn’t small, about ten in total. In theory, boarding students were supposed to return to the classroom for evening self-study after dinner.

Meng Guowei was driving the point home: “Don’t think you can just slack off because the weekend is here! You are currently at a pivotal juncture. Sophomore year is a crucial transition period that bridges the past and sets up the future. Don’t count on having multiple rounds of comprehensive reviews in senior year and get lazy…”

The students dragged out their replies sluggishly: “Understood…”

Twirling his pen, Xu Sheng remembered his sacred mission to “let Shao Zhan focus on solving problems.” Faintly catching the sound of footsteps by the back door, footsteps taken deliberately slow and cautious, he turned his head. Sure enough, it was Zhang Feng, tiptoeing forward with tiny, furtive steps, attempting to sneak in.

Unsure if Class 7 had wrapped up yet, Zhang Feng wanted to catch Xu Sheng for a quick chat, making his approach look exceptionally shady.

Just as Zhang Feng gingerly poked half his head through the back window, Xu Sheng acted with lightning speed, lunging to snatch the test paper and pen from Shao Zhan’s hands.

“Boss!”

The entire sequence unfolded in barely two seconds.

Due to the sudden yank, the radical sign on Shao Zhan’s paper dragged outward by several centimeters. He looked up, about to ask what the hell Xu Sheng was doing.

Seeing it was too late to snatch the test, Xu Sheng was forced to settle for second best.

Thus, when Zhang Feng poked his head fully through the window, what met his eyes was the recently frosty “Xu Sheng” with an exam sheet spread out before him, pen in hand, while the Study God’s hand was draped right over the hand gripping the pen.

Their fingers were laced together.

That damn pose… indecipherable, utterly perplexing, and faintly suggestive.

“…”

“What… what are you two doing?” Zhang Feng muttered in a daze.

Xu Sheng was equally dazed. When he grabbed onto him, he hadn’t thought that far ahead; it was purely because there hadn’t been enough time to yank the paper and pen away.

Shao Zhan, however, caught on quickly, hinting: “Explaining a problem.”

“Ah,” Xu Sheng caught the cue and picked up the line, “Right. I’m explaining a problem to him.”

“Xu—” Xu Sheng hadn’t let go of his hand. He originally wanted to say ‘Xu Sheng,’ but calling out his own name felt inherently bizarre, so the syllable took a sharp pivot: “Desk mate, did you understand this problem? If not, I can walk you through it one more time.”

How could Shao Zhan dare let him explain? The guy probably couldn’t even make heads or tails of the question prompt: “Understood.”

Deeply versed in the principle of committing to the bit, Xu Sheng immediately rolled out a string of lines that sounded totally plausible on the surface, yet contained zero actual academic value: “When you run into this type of problem in the future, don’t rush. First analyze the prompt thoroughly, identify the tested concepts, and only then put pen to paper.”

Without sparing a single thought for his own usual academic baseline, Xu Sheng talked out of his ass: “Would you call it hard? Not hard at all. This kind of problem is essentially handing out free points. You could score with your eyes closed.”

Shao Zhan bent the knuckle of his index finger, digging it firmly into Xu Sheng’s palm as a silent warning, asking coldly: “Are you done explaining?”

Xu Sheng released his grip.

The weather had remained stifling and humid these past few days. Xu Sheng’s palm was slightly damp with sweat. It was clearly his own hand he had just held… so why did it feel so indescribably weird?

Zhang Feng found the whole spectacle even more bizarre: “Hold on. Did the sun rise from the west today? You’re studying?”

As he spoke, he glanced down at the desk and noticed that the handwriting on the scratch paper did indeed belong to the Study God. From the looks of it, they hadn’t tackled just a single problem; chances were, the two had huddled together for the entire homeroom period, hand-in-hand, working through questions.

Shao Zhan adopted a tone that clearly said please get lost: “Do you need something?”

Zhang Feng scratched his head: “I just wanted to ask about the net cafe…” What was that whole net cafe situation about?

Shao Zhan assumed he was here to drag him out to play games again. Having zero interest in the activity and determined to nip future headaches in the bud, he seized upon Xu Sheng’s earlier lecture to cut him off sharply: “Zhang Feng.”

His bro had never called him by his full name with such grave, solemn intensity before. Zhang Feng instinctively straightened his posture.

Shao Zhan added, “I think you should focus more of your energy on your studies too.”

Zhang Feng’s brain flatlined for a second: “Huh?”

After the blank pause, Zhang Feng roared internally:

Can someone tell me what the hell is going on here?!

Are those words that could ever come out of the mouth of Xu Sheng, the guy who turns in blank exam sheets, sleeps through every lecture, and stands in the hallway for punishment every damn day?!

Xu Sheng cleared his throat, terrified Shao Zhan would say something else that would shatter Zhang Feng’s view of reality: “School’s out. You should head back soon too. We still have a few more problems to cover.”

Zhang Feng looked at the Study God, then glanced at Xu Sheng.

He simply couldn’t accept it. Why had his brother changed?!

In just a few short days, he was no longer the Xu Sheng who hit the net cafe with him. He was turning into a total stranger!

When Zhang Feng turned toward the stairwell, his arms and legs swung on the exact same side: “I’ll… head back first then… Take your time… discussing problems…”

Meng Guowei droned on a bit longer before finally waving a hand to dismiss the class.

Xu Sheng headed straight back to the dorms, taking a nap that allowed him to cleanly skip the dinner rush. Just as he was contemplating what to grab outside the school gates, his phone screen lit up.

No filler words, as terse as a memo pad.

Shao Zhan: Evening self-study at 6:15.

Xu Sheng had never experienced anything resembling evening self-study in his entire life. Wolfing down a quick meal, he walked into the classroom right on the dot, finding most of the boarding students already present. Shao Zhan wasn’t there; word was he’d arrive a bit later.

Hou Jun and the others had reshuffled their seats, congregating in the back row. Terrified King of Hell Gu might drop by to inspect evening study, they pushed as far back as physically possible.

A few heads leaned close, clustered in a tight circle. Hearing footsteps, Hou Jun jolted: “Someone’s coming, someone’s coming!”

“Fuck, King of Hell Gu checking up on us?”

The others scrambled back to their seats. Once settled, seeing it was “Shao Zhan,” they breathed a collective sigh of relief: “Study God, you scared the life out of us.”

Xu Sheng knew this scene inside out; they were definitely sneaking in mobile games. Back in freshman year, these underground circles had revolved around him, packing multiple rings deep in the back row. He flashed a easy smile: “I just walked past King of Hell Gu’s office. He’s not in, probably won’t be back anytime soon. Keep playing.”

Hou Jun froze for a couple of seconds. Though they worshipped the Study God, they weren’t close to him in the slightest and had never dared approach him, when had they ever seen the Study God look this approachable?

The prospect of sitting through three solid hours of evening self-study gave Xu Sheng a massive headache. Pausing in his tracks, he slipped into the empty desk behind Hou Jun: “Can I sit here?”

Hou Jun felt as though his humble corner had suddenly been graced by divine light: “Sure, sure! Absolutely!”

For the first time, Xu Sheng realized that the Study God identity was surprisingly handy. If “Xu Sheng” had walked up, this bunch would have scattered like startled birds.

Hou Jun fished his phone out from inside his desk, and the group resumed their unfinished match.

“Monkey Bro, someone’s in the grass opposite!”

“Yeah, yeah, shit, looks like he’s trying to snipe you.”

Hou Jun: “Watch me pop him right in the skull! Classmates, get ready to cheer for your Monkey Bro!”

The applause failed to materialize.

In the dead silence, someone chimed in: “Your skills are pretty trash… You fired ten rounds and didn’t clip him once.”

They were playing a wildly popular tactical shooter. Xu Sheng’s personal account was already ranked in the top one hundred on the entire server.

Having just been sorted into new classes, Xu Sheng wasn’t well-acquainted with his Class 7 peers. Seeing them act all diligent and studious during the day, he had never imagined catching the class monitor leading an illicit gaming circle.

It seemed daily life was simply too suffocating; teenagers at this age could hardly bottle up that hot-blooded drive.

Watching his in-game health bar plummet rapidly, Hou Jun braced himself to queue for a fresh match, when a hand reached across from the side. Though the fingers were long and slender, they tapped the screen with effortless nonchalance, steering the character to dodge the incoming barrage with ease, executing an outrageously slick S-curve drift to duck straight into a blind spot.

“Holy shit!”

Hou Jun gasped in genuine awe: “Literally snatched victory from the jaws of death!”

Only then did he turn to see who it was. Tracing the arm back, his eyes landed on the familiar grayish-blue uniform, the rigid cut somehow looking completely effortless on him. Because of the row of desks between them, the only way “Shao Zhan” could reach was by perching half his body across the table, one long leg casually folded over the surface.

Having executed the play, Xu Sheng pulled his hand back: “He can’t hit this spot from that angle. Next time, just break line of sight.”

Hou Jun clapped vigorously: “Aside from badass, I can’t find a single other word! So allow me to say it again: absolutely insane!”

Bonds between teenage boys were forged just that easily.

Two matches later, the center of gravity shifted.

Xu Sheng sat surrounded in the middle.

Beyond gaming together, they were already calling each other brothers. The circle affectionately addressed Xu Sheng as “Zhan-ge,” while Xu Sheng casually referred to Hou Jun as “Monkey.”

This was the exact tableau that greeted Shao Zhan when he stepped into the classroom.

Someone asked, “Zhan-ge, you usually like playing games too?”

Xu Sheng’s gut instinct was to ask Can you even call yourself a normal modern teen if you don’t game?, but right before the words escaped, he remembered who he was right now.

“It’s alright,” Xu Sheng navigated his avatar into a compound, using the pause while the camo-clad character automatically scavenged gear to explain, “I mainly play games to train my mental models and reaction time, thereby improving my study efficiency.”

“Zhan-ge’s philosophical realm,” the boy next to Hou Jun remarked, “is truly on a different level from us mere mortals.”

Xu Sheng remembered that boy. During the committee elections earlier, he had passed with a near-unanimous vote, ultimately securing the position of Sports Representative.

The Sports Rep was named Tan Kai. Standing under 170 centimeters, he was a far cry from the towering, brawny athletes representing other classes. His hair was buzzcut into a “bullet” fade, slightly longer on top, every strand standing upright.

Tan Kai: “Could you walk us through the specifics of that efficiency-boosting mental model?”

“Sure,” Xu Sheng’s character happened to pull out a throwable item. “Take this grenade, for instance. What comes to mind when you look at it?”

Tan Kai looked completely baffled: “What?”

Xu Sheng chucked the grenade. Having spun the yarn this far, he had to see it through to the end, stating with total deadpan seriousness: “A parabola.”

May this brother never ask for the formula or mathematical theorems behind parabolas.

Aside from knowing the proper noun, he didn’t know jack shit.

Fortunately, Tan Kai was too busy being floored to demand an on-the-spot mathematical derivation. Staring slack-jawed, he admitted with utmost sincerity: “I yield! I’m genuinely ashamed. I actually play games just to have fun.”

“Zhan-ge is the Study God for a reason.”

“No wonder his grenade tosses are so pinpoint! This is literally putting classroom knowledge into real-world practice!”

Listening to the chatter escalate, Shao Zhan’s expression darkened by several shades: “…”