BTO CH9

After a moment of silence, Shao Zhan tried to explain, “Actually…” Actually, it’s like this.

Meng Guowei interrupted again, raising his voice: “I already told you to rest easy! Am I, Meng Guowei, the kind of teacher who disregards a student’s wishes? What kind of person do you take me for!”

“…”

“I said I wouldn’t make you two desk mates, so I definitely won’t swap your seats!”

Meng Guowei had long lost the grand ambitions he held a few days ago. The “one-on-one mentorship” plan had been jointly strangled in the cradle by Xu Sheng and Shao Zhan. Just yesterday, another teacher had come by to ask how the plan was going: “How’s that one-on-one setup you were planning to organize coming along?”

Meng Guowei had sighed: “Not great. Neither of them seems willing.”

The teacher next to him replied: “Is that so? I thought that line of thinking was pretty good…”

Meng Guowei shook his head, unwilling to dwell on past matters: “Especially Xu Sheng—asking him to switch desk mates was like asking for his life. Going on about how they weren’t compatible, saying things that got more and more out of hand, even pulling out phrases like ‘a forced melon isn’t sweet.’ You tell me, was I forcing anything? I was merely discussing it with them.”

Hearing that, the other teacher was equally amazed.

Although Meng Guowei felt it was a pity, he quickly adjusted his course; he needed to guide with patience and play the long game. If a one-on-one mentorship couldn’t solve the problem, then let him, as the teacher, ignite himself to serve as the beacon guiding this lost youth!

Little did he know, at this very moment, that lost youth wished more than anything that he would dig his heels in, stop respecting students’ wishes so much, and just be forceful when it was time to be forceful.

After tidying up his materials, Meng Guowei looked up and saw the two of them still standing by his desk. Xu Sheng, usually wild and unrestrained, wore an expression as cold as frost. Meng Guowei thought to himself that Xu Sheng was unusually quiet today—was he in a bad mood?

Shao Zhan, on the other hand, looked… well, much more approachable…

Except, judging by the expressions on both of their faces, there seemed to be an equally complex tangle of emotions beneath the surface.

Meng Guowei put down his pen. “Do you two have other business?”

Shao Zhan really wanted to turn around and walk away.

Recalling his “rather die than yield” stance in the office last time, Xu Sheng couldn’t quite bear staying here either.

The face-slapping came far too quickly.

The harsher the words were back then, the more their faces stung right now.

If life could restart, he would want to go back to the day Meng Guowei first arranged for him and Shao Zhan to sit together, and say four words straight to Meng Guowei: Sir, I am willing.

Yet whether their faces stung or not, becoming desk mates was unavoidable.

Lowering his voice, Shao Zhan turned his head and murmured into Xu Sheng’s ear, enunciating every syllable: “You dug this hole yourself. Fill it yourself.”

Xu Sheng reminded him, “Right now, you’re Xu Sheng.”

Shao Zhan: “…”

Xu Sheng added, “I can say it if you want, but you’d better think it through.”

The implication was clear: if Shao Zhan didn’t speak up, Xu Sheng would do it under “Shao Zhan’s” name.

Even when solving the most difficult Olympiad math problems, Shao Zhan had never felt as put on the spot as he did today. Weighing his options, Shao Zhan closed his eyes and forced himself to speak: “Teacher, we’re applying to be desk mates.”

Meng Guowei had just begun counting the pop-quiz worksheets. With the constant background noise of the office, Shao Zhan’s delivery was quiet and flat, yet it still made Meng Guowei instantly lose count: “Ah, desk mates, sure… wait a second, what did you say?!”

Realizing what he had just heard, Meng Guowei was stunned: “You want to be desk mates?”

Once the mental hurdle was cleared, the words that followed weren’t so hard to say. Shao Zhan repeated, “The two of us want to switch seats.”

Meng Guowei sat bolt upright, wondering if his ears were playing tricks on him: “Didn’t you say earlier that you two were incompatible?”

Shao Zhan remained expressionless: “We’re compatible.”

“Relationships between people depend on fate?”

“Fate has arrived.”

Meng Guowei: “A forced melon isn’t sweet?”

“A forced melon,” the phrase was mortifying to utter, and Shao Zhan paused before continuing, “how do you know it’s not sweet unless you try it?”

Meng Guowei pressed on: “Forced camaraderie between classmates…”

Shao Zhan interrupted: “It’s not forced.”

“…”

Meng Guowei glanced at the students coming and going in the office. The teacher next to him was telling their class rep, “Next time they don’t turn it in after being reminded, don’t waste your time. Don’t take their homework; have them come directly to me. What kind of attitude is that? I’ll set them straight.” Only then did Meng Guowei regain a sense of reality: “Are you serious? You really want to be desk mates?”

More serious than serious.

Shao Zhan delivering those few lines was already his absolute limit. He lowered his eyes, reached behind Xu Sheng where Meng Guowei couldn’t see, and pinched him through the fabric of the school uniform.

Xu Sheng didn’t carry that much mental baggage. Once the awkwardness passed, he found the whole scene inexplicably hilarious. He never had proper posture anyway, so as he listened to Meng Guowei and Shao Zhan going back and forth, he casually leaned half his weight against the wall.

Suddenly getting pinched, he blurted out a quiet “Fuck,” straightened up, and took over the conversation: “Teacher, it really isn’t forced. I’ve thought it through as well. On his learning journey, student Xu Sheng truly needs the guidance of an outstanding desk mate like me.”

The last shred of Meng Guowei’s rationality remembered that Shao Zhan had called it “troublesome” before: “You don’t think it’s troublesome anymore?”

Xu Sheng: “Not troublesome.”

Xu Sheng added, “How could it be troublesome? Helping each other and progressing together is what classmates are supposed to do.”

Meng Guowei was left somewhat bewildered by the pair, but he noticed that the one-on-one mentorship plan had inexplicably picked back up. He had intended for them to be desk mates all along, so naturally there was no reason to refuse now: “Make sure you’ve both thought it through… All right.”

He peeled off the Class 7 seating chart taped beside him and used a pen to mark a swap between the back of the first row and the back of the second row: “Then Li Mingyong can sit with Gao Zhibo.”

Having finished speaking, Xu Sheng leaned back against the wall, thinking to himself: So Shao Zhan’s desk mate was named Gao Zhibo.

After making the notes, Meng Guowei asked, “When are you two switching?”

Meng Guowei meant that if they weren’t in a rush, they could wait until the lunch break; class was about to start, and moving desks now would be inconvenient. Yet the two in front of him answered with impatient eagerness: “Right now.”

Sophomore Class 7 Class Group Chat.

Student A: Breaking news.

Student A: I’m going insane. I just went to the office to drop off homework, why must I suffer like this? I heard the school tyrant and the Study God apply to switch seats in the teachers’ office.

After the lollipop incident, the students of Class 7 all knew the two were at each other’s throats, not to mention the rumor of them knocking each other out in a brawl the previous night. Even though that incident hadn’t been publicized, it had long spread privately throughout the sophomore grade.

[Student B]: Understandable. I completely understand their mood and choice. Given the current tension between the school tyrant and the Study God, they probably think being separated by just an aisle is way too close.

[Student C]: Makes sense. Like fire and water—that aisle really does look too narrow.

[Student D]: Did they want to split across the entire classroom, opposite ends of the room?

Student A: No… they applied to sit together. SIT TOGETHER!!!

[Student B]: ??? Does the Warrior know what’s going on? @Li Mingyong

[Li Mingyong]: …I don’t know.

[Li Mingyong]: Really? There’s good news like this? Am I about to see a glimmer of hope for survival?

No matter how furiously the group chat buzzed, the two people involved were completely oblivious.

When Xu Sheng and Shao Zhan entered the classroom, only the sound of flipping pages remained.

Gao Zhibo had already received the news of the seat change, and the shy expectation in his eyes had quietly turned into disappointment.

Xu Sheng went over to pack his things—though there wasn’t much to pack. Shao Zhan’s desk was organized with obsessive-compulsive precision; textbooks and test papers for each subject were categorized and neatly stacked. Aside from the English stack, which was slightly ruffled from Xu Sheng digging for the vocabulary booklet this morning, everything was excessively tidy.

Gao Zhibo hadn’t expected to part ways with the Study God after only being desk mates for two days. His only memento was the sheet of paper with step-by-step solutions the Study God had handed him that morning. He gathered his courage to call out to Xu Sheng: “…Study God.”

Hearing Gao Zhibo say those two words gave Xu Sheng the chills now, terrified that the guy would pull another workbook out from behind his back and seize this final opportunity to ask a question he couldn’t comprehend in the slightest.

Xu Sheng put the vocabulary booklet back, pondered for a moment, and reached out to pat Gao Zhibo’s shoulder: “All good things must come to an end. After I leave, study hard.”

Gao Zhibo was simply reluctant to see him go; he hadn’t known what he wanted to say when calling out to Shao Zhan either. Hearing this, he nodded.

Xu Sheng: “Remember: independent thinking.”

Independent thinking—the most important study method he had learned all year. Gao Zhibo nodded solemnly once more.

Once Xu Sheng opened his mouth, he couldn’t stop. Because of his school tyrant reputation, almost no one dared approach him except for Zhang Feng’s circle. Freshman year had been fine, but after the class shuffle, there was virtually no one left to talk to.

His fingers tapped idly against the desk. Just as he was about to spout some more nonsense, the back of his neck suddenly went cold.

Shao Zhan was behind him, looking none too pleased. Hooking a finger into Xu Sheng’s uniform collar, he yanked him backward, his brow furrowed with impatience: “Cut the crap.”

Xu Sheng swallowed the rest of his words: “…Oh.”

In the eyes of everyone else, this scene couldn’t look any stranger.

The class group chat, which had just quieted down, blew up again.

Student A: Words fail me.

[Student C]: Chiming in here—there’s something I’ve wanted to say for a while. Not sure if it’s just my imagination, but the school tyrant seems way scarier today than before…

Xu Sheng was usually the flamboyant kind of “bad.” He gave off the vibe that he didn’t care about anything; if he woke up halfway through class, he would just ruffle his hair and lean back. When a teacher went off on a tangent and said something funny, he’d chuckle along. But with Shao Zhan occupying “Xu Sheng,” it was as if the phrase “Keep Away” had been etched into the air within half a meter around him.

Compared to Gao Zhibo’s reluctance to part, Li Mingyong packed his things with unmatched efficiency.

Before Xu Sheng had even finished clearing his items, Li Mingyong was already waiting with his backpack on and his textbooks in his arms. The posture screamed a leap toward a blissful new life—he practically wanted to buy a gong and drum right then and there to play a victory anthem!

The class bell rang.

A flurry of hurried, messy footsteps echoed down the corridor outside as students rushed back to their classrooms, followed by complete silence.

Xu Sheng sat down next to his original seat. Just like that, he and Shao Zhan became desk mates.

It truly demonstrated the sheer unpredictability of life.

If this were Xu Sheng from a few days ago, he would rather die, rather leap right off this school building, than be desk mates with someone surnamed Shao, given name Zhan.

Full of mixed feelings, Xu Sheng genuinely didn’t want to sit too close to Shao Zhan. He dragged his chair slightly to the side, only relaxing once he had carved out a bit of breathing room.