Chapter 7
GU FEI LIFTED AN EYEBROW, took out his earbuds, and turned to look at Jiang Cheng.
This guy really was prickly. He was practically covered in thorns—and it seemed that sharp exterior didn’t get any less sharp in an unfamiliar environment like this.
Gu Fei looked at Zhou Jing in front of him with great interest. He was still gaping in shock. If Gu Fei hadn’t already finished eating his eggs, he’d have loved to stuff one into Zhou Jing’s mouth right now.
Jiang Cheng had certainly picked a good target—Zhou Jing was a total pushover, an annoying kid with no temper. If it was someone else instead… Gu Fei snuck a glance to his right. A fight would’ve broken out by now.
“What’s the matter? What’s going on?” Lao-Xu slapped the lectern.
“We’re in the middle of class here! Gu Fei, what are you doing?”
Gu Fei froze, then pointed his finger at himself and mouthed silently, “Me?”
“Who else?!” Lao-Xu said. “You must be bored now that you’ve finished your breakfast, huh?”
There was laughter from the desks around him. Gu Fei couldn’t help but laugh as well, and he turned to look at Jiang Cheng.
“What are you looking at him for?” Lao-Xu pointed at him. “The guy’s grades are eight hundred and seventy-four entire street blocks ahead of yours!”
A round of shouts rang out in the class.
“Yo—!”
“Ooooh, an overachiever!”
“Lao-Xu finally found someone to focus his energy on, huh?”
Gu Fei sighed. Lao-Xu acted like a naïve, purehearted teaching trainee. It was like he’d never taught a badly-behaved class before. With just one statement, Lao-Xu had raised a three-foot-tall barrier around Jiang Cheng that would keep him from integrating with his peers.
Looking at Lao-Xu, Jiang Cheng seriously considered whether this man was an undercover agent sent by his mom to torture him. He wasn’t afraid of any sort of provocation, nor had he made any effort to calm his temper since he walked in, but he’d still rather not be praised for his grades by the homeroom teacher of a class this rowdy. The title of “overachiever” was practically an insult.
“All right.” Lao-Xu cleared his throat. “Let’s continue… We were just talking about…” Jiang Cheng hadn’t been listening to what Lao-Xu was saying up there, and now he gave even less of a damn. He slumped over the desk and pulled out his phone.
In his old school, he had to sneak around like a thief every time he wanted to use his phone in class: ringer off, volume on mute. Then, after he plugged in his headphones, the cable had to be snaked through his sleeve and held to his ear with his hand covering it. The homeroom teacher’s drawer was like a sidewalk stall selling used goods, filled with heaps of confiscated cell phones.
Clearly, Fourth High was different. Jiang Cheng shot a glance at Gu Fei, who already had his phone out—it was even propped up on a stand. He was very obviously wearing headphones, leaning back in his chair with his arms crossed, watching a video.
Jiang Cheng flopped on his desk. Up at the lectern, Lao-Xu droned on like a monk chanting scriptures. Even the low-frequency chatter around him sounded like chanting. Amidst the noise, Jiang Cheng drifted in and out of consciousness for over half the class. When he couldn’t suffer through the boredom any longer, he took out his phone to send Pan Zhi a message.
– grandson.
Pan Zhi quickly messaged back.
– Gramps. What class are you in right now? You busy?
– Chinese, you?
– English. The old donkey gave us a pop quiz, I’m dead – Not like it’s a formal exam, what’s the big deal – I don’t know the answer to a single question. Plus the old donkey said he wanted to get a feel for our foundation, I feel like he’s plotting something!
Pan Zhi had sent a photo along with the message. Jiang Cheng looked at it and sighed. It was a page of multiple-choice questions, shot from a very sly angle. He could tell right away that Pan Zhi had risked not seeing his phone again until the summer break in order to take this photo.
Jiang Cheng glanced at the time and zoomed in on the picture, then grabbed a pencil and started quickly writing the answers on a notebook as he read through the questions. Not even two questions in, Pan Zhi sent three more photos in a row. Jiang Cheng peered at his phone, a little speechless. The bastard must’ve sent him every single question on the quiz.
– Wait.
He sent a reply back to Pan Zhi, then continued to go through the questions. Frankly, they weren’t very difficult at all; he could pretty much guess all the answers. He wondered why Pan Zhi was struggling so much.
The classroom was still very noisy. Jiang Cheng had to admire Lao-Xu’s patience. Perhaps teachers who were used to teaching these classes eventually built up a strong tolerance for bad behavior. He remembered the chemistry teacher from his first year of high school; her lectures were pretty boring, so people liked to chat in her class. The volume was nothing compared to the noise in his current classroom, but it still made the teacher so angry that she cried. If she were transferred here, she’d sob until she shattered like a glass flower. Lao-Xu was seriously powerful in comparison.
Jiang Cheng continued scribbling down the answers for Pan Zhi, occasionally lifting his eyes to look at the teacher. Students everywhere were sleeping or chatting, but as long as nobody got up to dance, Lao-Xu didn’t even blink.
Tsk, tsk.
Pan Zhi had only sent him multiple-choice questions, and Jiang Cheng made short work of them. He glanced at the clock as he typed the answers into his phone. There were still a few minutes before class ended—enough time for Pan Zhi to copy everything down.
As for the other questions… Pan Zhi never bothered with the open-ended ones. Sometimes he was too lazy to even copy answers.
After he sent the message, Jiang Cheng was still bored, so he tapped open his WeChat Moments and started slowly scrolling. He saw that Jiang Yijun—his dear little brother—had posted a selfie yesterday. His mom and dad were in the background—it looked like the whole family was out eating together. A happy family of three. Jiang Cheng felt a tightness in his chest which swiftly turned into a bizarre wave of nausea. He put the phone back in his pocket, but not before muting the three of them.
Just as he was about to look up, something fell on his head. Before he could figure out what was going on, he felt even more things land on him. It felt like someone was pelting him with a handful of pebbles. Next, he saw a pile of white dust, and caught a whiff of plaster.
He looked up in surprise. “The fuck?”
A large slab of grayish-white plaster lay on his desk, with more fragments of various sizes scattered across the surface. Jiang Cheng’s knee-jerk reaction was to dust off his head. Then, he glanced toward Gu Fei next to him.
Gu Fei’s cell phone still sat on the desk. Whatever was playing on the screen was no longer visible, concealed behind a layer of dust—as were Gu Fei’s hair and face. Gu Fei’s arms were still crossed. He hadn’t moved at all; the only difference was that he looked kinda pissed off.
Their heads and desks were covered in bits of plaster. Jiang Cheng looked up at the ceiling and located the missing section. With the plaster gone, strips of wooden beams were exposed.
This sure is an ancient building, huh?
When Jiang Cheng looked back down, he noticed a small black rock at the corner of the desk that couldn’t have been part of the ceiling.
The bell rang right on time, and Lao-Xu closed his book. “All right, class dismissed… Ah, did the ceiling fall again? Who’s on janitorial duty today?
Sweep that up, please.”
The moment Lao-Xu left the room, the class erupted into chaos; everyone turned to stare at the last row. Jiang Cheng quickly sized up the situation right then and there. Judging from the little rock on his desk, Gu Fei’s darkened expression, and everyone who’d stood up to watch as soon as the bell rang, all clearly eager to watch the show…the ceiling might rain plaster on its own from time to time, but that definitely wasn’t what had happened today. This was intentional.
He remained in his seat, pulled some tissues out of his pocket, and slowly swept the dust from his desk to the floor. In a situation like this, where he had no clear adversary, it was much easier for him to keep his anger under control.
Gu Fei stood up, his movement shifting the desk forward. He took off his jacket and shook it a few times before lifting his eyes to look at Wang Xu.
“Apologies, Da-Fei.” Already on his feet, Wang Xu walked over and slung an arm around Gu Fei’s shoulders, then dusted off his jacket. “C’mon, we’ll go to the snack stand. I’ll buy you a drink.”
Gu Fei flung Wang Xu’s arm away, put his jacket on, and walked out through the back door. Wang Xu quickly followed, side-by-side with him as he walked down the stairs.
“Hey, Da-Fei, that was friendly fire, I swear!”
“Mm-hm,” Gu Fei answered. He’d rather not waste time talking to Wang Xu. The dust in his hair was irking him; some of it had even gotten into his eyes.
“I just wanted to give that kid a warning,” Wang Xu went on. “A transfer student acting so fucking arrogant on the first day of class… If nobody teaches him a lesson, he won’t know that we do things different here!”
Without a word, Gu Fei reached the ground floor and turned left.
“Hey, what about the snack stand?” Wang Xu said. “Where are you going?”
“To pee,” Gu Fei replied.
“You use the bathroom on the teachers’ side? It’s so far.”
“There are less people there.”
“All that trouble just to take a piss… I’ll bring a bottle of milk tea for you, then,” Wang Xu said. “Is Assam okay?”
Gu Fei turned back slightly. “Drink it yourself.”
“Assam it is!”
Gu Fei sighed.
The restroom on this side of the field was close to the teachers’ offices, so most students preferred not to use it. In fact, not many teachers came here either, since there were bathrooms in their office building. It was a rare spot where he could have some peace.
Gu Fei pulled a cigarette out of his pocket and lit it as he walked inside.
He only managed to take one drag when the door to the stall beside him opened and Lao-Xu walked out.
“Xu-zong,” Gu Fei greeted him, mumbling around his cigarette.
“What’s your problem? You just had to come have a smoke in the teachers’ washroom?!” Lao-Xu said, careful to keep his voice low as he pointed at him. “Are you flaunting your power or something? Who exactly are you trying to impress?”
“What’s powerful about smoking a cigarette?” Gu Fei laughed and stepped in front of a urinal. “If I’m flaunting, does that mean you’re scared of me?”
“I don’t even know what to say to you.” Lao-Xu walked over, pointing at the cigarette. “Put it out!”
Gu Fei sighed and flicked the cigarette backward into the squat toilet behind him, then looked at Lao-Xu as he held onto his pants zipper. “I’m going to pee now.”
Lao-Xu sighed and turned to leave.
Gu Fei unzipped his fly and was just about to pee when Lao-Xu suddenly stopped in his tracks. “And that Jiang Cheng—” Because he was a little further away now, Lao-Xu spoke loudly, his voice echoing magnificently through the washroom.
“Holy shit!” Gu Fei braced a hand against the wall. Lao-Xu’s sudden voice had startled him so much that he’d almost pissed on his shoes. “Xu-zong, sir, can you give me a moment?!”
Lao-Xu walked out, and Gu Fei zipped up his fly and lit another cigarette.
Then he walked into a random stall and closed the door so he could smoke.
Besides the peace and quiet, the more important reason he liked to come here was that it didn’t stink as much.
Lao-Xu was an earnest teacher at heart, but unfortunately he wasn’t the greatest lecturer. Nobody listened to him in his classes, and as a homeroom teacher, his people skills were nothing to write home about, either. As a result, no matter how hard he tried with his students, nobody took him seriously. Gu Fei sometimes felt exhausted on his behalf.
When he walked out of the bathroom, Lao-Xu was waiting for him outside in the snow.
“How about you find him a different seat?” Gu Fei said, tugging on his collar.
“Don’t want to share a desk with him? Or don’t want to share a desk, period?” Lao-Xu looked at him. “Oh, Gu Fei, you need to stop being so antisocial.”
“Don’t psychoanalyze me,” Gu Fei said. “You’ve been doing it for two years and you haven’t been right once.”
“Give it some time, it’s only his first day of school.” Lao-Xu smiled.
“That Jiang Cheng… His grades really are quite good. He’ll be a positive influence on you as a deskmate.”
Good grades? Positive influence? Jiang Cheng had just spent an entire class slumped over his desk scrolling on his phone—Gu Fei found the idea of his “good grades” a little hard to accept.
“It’s time for class,” he said.
“Go on then,” said Lao-Xu. “Give it some time.”
On his way back to class, Gu Fei ran into Wang Xu on the third-floor landing, and Wang Xu handed him a bottle of milk tea.
“Thanks.” Gu Fei accepted the offering and went inside.
Second period was English class. Their English teacher had a short temper and a loud voice; like Lao-Xu, he didn’t have much authority over the students, but he did have an affinity for insults. He had such a large arsenal of them that he could go on for half an hour without repeating himself. He had even gotten into physical fights with students before; he refused to back down and would always face troublemakers head-on. Therefore, most people avoided provoking him unless it was a matter of life and death. They all entered the classroom immediately after the warning bell.
The dusty desk had already been cleaned up, but probably not by Jiang Cheng alone. When Gu Fei arrived, he saw Yi Jing walk away with a rag in her hand.
“Thanks,” Gu Fei said.
“Oh, it’s nothing.” Yi Jing brushed her hair aside and smiled. “I’m on janitorial duty today.”
Sitting down in his chair, Gu Fei glanced at Jiang Cheng. He sat there calmly with his eyes on the blackboard, leaning back in his seat.
Gu Fei took his phone out to continue watching the movie he didn’t get to finish earlier. He had only just pulled up the video when Jiang Cheng suddenly stood up beside him. With a swipe of his hand, Jiang Cheng picked up his chair.
In his other hand was a long broom.
Surprised, Gu Fei glanced over at Wang Xu, who had just sat down and was talking cheerfully to his desk-mate. Gu Fei frowned a little. Is this guy about to start a fight?
Jiang Cheng had learned who Wang Xu was. After Gu Fei, this was the second name in the class to enter Jiang Cheng’s memory. There was very little space in the room between all the desks and chairs, and there was a desk separating his seat from Wang Xu’s. To get to Wang Xu while holding a metal chair, Jiang Cheng had to make a detour around the front of the room, which was a hassle.
Jiang Cheng put down his chair and said to the two students sitting beside them, “Excuse me.”
They looked at him incredulously, but still stood up and let him squeeze through from behind. After passing through, he dragged one of their chairs out into the aisle.
“Hey! What are you doing?!” the chair’s owner shouted.
Jiang Cheng turned to stare at him. He stared back for two seconds, then didn’t speak again.
The whole class was looking at them. Wang Xu had realized by now that he was the target, and stood up proudly.
“Oooh! You’re here to bust my head open or something? Come on, then, let’s see the overachiever prove himself…” Wordlessly, Jiang Cheng set the chair down next to Wang Xu’s seat with a clunk, then slowly backed away a few steps. He lifted the broom and threw the handle at the ceiling like a javelin, hitting the spot above Wang Xu’s seat with pinpoint accuracy.
Wang Xu had figured it out as soon as Jiang Cheng raised his hand, but when he turned to get away, he was blocked by the chair Jiang Cheng had placed by his legs. He was about to try kicking the chair away when the broomstick came crashing down, bringing a huge sheet of plaster with it. A thick cloud of white dust instantly covered Wang Xu’s head and desk.
After a brief silence, the class erupted into tumultuous laughter and shouting, with some students even stomping their feet and thumping their desks. It was total chaos.
“Motherfucker!” Wang Xu yelled, kicking away his chair and charging at Jiang Cheng.
Jiang Cheng didn’t move away; he stood still and waited. Wang Xu came straight at him, leaving everything wide open, so he didn’t even need to aim his fist to give the guy a nosebleed.
“WHAT’S GOING ON?!”
A roar thundered from the doorway. It was probably the most powerful bellow Jiang Cheng had ever heard in his life; a booming sound that soared straight to the sky and into the clouds. He was so startled that he almost launched himself at Wang Xu.
“What’s going on, huh?!” A middle-aged male teacher charged over with a pointer stick and pointed it at Jiang Cheng. “What class are you from? What are you doing here?!”
Before Jiang Cheng could answer, the teacher jabbed the pointer in Wang Xu’s face. “And you! Are your ears growing from your armpits? Didn’t you hear the bells ring?! Are you deaf or something? Can you hear the sound of my voice now? Can you hear me?! Can you?!”
He didn’t wait for Wang Xu to speak. Turning the pointer at everyone else around him, he continued, “Standing around to watch the show, are we? Well, I’ll give you a performance all right! A round of applause, please! Clap, clap, clap! Come on!”
After this tirade, the class quieted down. Wang Xu glared, but it didn’t look like he would charge at him again. Jiang Cheng looked up worriedly at the ceiling, afraid that the whole ceiling would cave in on them if the teacher yelled any more.
“Back to your seats! Scram!” the teacher yelled again. “What, are you waiting to be carried or something?! Someone take the door off its hinges so I can carry you all!”
The classroom was filled with the sounds of low laughter and complaints as Jiang Cheng turned around to go back to his seat.
“You!” the teacher called out to him. “Which class are you from?”
“He’s the newly transferred overachiever,” someone piped up.
Staring in astonishment, the teacher looked him up and down at length.
“Go sit down! Are you waiting for someone to carry you over?”
The teacher’s yelling barely left Jiang Cheng space to breathe. He could only glance at the teacher again before returning to his seat.
“Commencing class!” The teacher smacked the pointer stick on the lectern. “Good-ah mowning-ah, ey-werey-one!”
Jiang Cheng stiffened. The heavily accented English almost made him burst out laughing.
After the lecture started, the boy who was pushing his and Gu Fei’s desk earlier started to push again, but this time, it wasn’t directed at Gu Fei. He turned around and called out to Jiang Cheng, “Hey, overachiever. Pretty damn impressive, casually provoking Wang Xu like that.”
Jiang Cheng didn’t reply.
“Fuck off,” Gu Fei said from beside him.
“What the hell?” the guy said quietly. “I wasn’t even talking to you. Is that your automatic response to me?”
“Mm.” Gu Fei propped up his phone.
“You’re asking for trouble.” The guy looked back at the teacher, then turned to Jiang Cheng with a serious face. “Wang Xu definitely isn’t done with you. Did you know that our school has a back gate—” “What’s your name?” Jiang Cheng interrupted him.
“Zhou Jing.”
“Thank you,” Jiang Cheng said, and pointed at his chair. “Don’t. Bump.
My desk. Again.”
“…Oh.” Zhou Jing blinked at him, then nodded.
Jiang Cheng flipped open his textbook and stared down at it. Zhou Jing stayed frozen there for a while, still craning his neck back to look at him, before finally turning around.
It was indeed an eventful beginning to the new semester; it was a shame Jiang Cheng didn’t have the habit of keeping a diary.
It didn’t matter to Jiang Cheng whether this Wang Xu would bother him again or not. At the moment, he only felt despondent. That picture in his WeChat Moments—the family selfie, full of warm affection simply because of his absence—it made him feel suddenly unmoored, weightless.
Of course, it only made sense that people he didn’t care about didn’t care about him, either. But it depressed him all the same.
Jiang Cheng stared at his textbook. He detected a faintly sweet, milky smell amidst the scent of paper and ink, and suddenly felt a little hungry. He remembered that he hadn’t had breakfast yet. Turning, he saw that Gu Fei was unwrapping a milk candy next to him as he watched his video.
Gu Fei exchanged a look with him, paused, then reached his hand into his pocket and rummaged around. He pulled out a piece of candy and placed it on Jiang Cheng’s book before turning his attention back to his phone screen.
Jiang Cheng looked at the candy lying on the page, a little bewildered.
And yet the aroma of milk candy wafting over from Gu Fei’s side was practically making his stomach scream.
After two minutes of hesitation, he picked up the candy and peeled open the wrapper.
…It wasn’t milk candy!
He’d given him a fruitcandy!
He couldn’t help himself from turning to glance at Gu Fei again.
Gu Fei swept his eyes over the fruit candy in Jiang Cheng’s hand, reached his hand into his pocket again, and put a handful of candies directly on the desk.
There were all kinds of packaging and flavors—at least a dozen of them.
“Take your pick,” said Gu Fei.