Chapter 14

Qi Yang couldn’t really explain why he felt happy to see Mu Yicong at the new school.

Thinking about it carefully, it wasn’t really happiness.

It was more like a kind of… pleasure.

Maybe it was because Mu Yicong was still familiar, or maybe it was just that his own personal entertainment project was back online, a pure, dark sense of amusement.

As for that promise that they were even after that one fight, well, that was for the middle school tab. High school was a fresh start.

Liu Dameng took this mindset even further. He was purely excited.

He was even willing to back down to Cui Wu, saying “Alright, alright, my bad” over and over, which actually made Cui Wu a bit embarrassed.

Shaking off Cui Wu, he squeezed in on Mu Yicong’s other side. Flanked by Qi Yang and him, they walked like two guardian vajras escorting Mu Yicong.

“How come you’re at the affiliated high school too?” he asked, as if they were old friends. “Didn’t go to No.1?”

Mu Yicong’s reaction to these two was pure annoyance, written all over his face.

He sat down by the window in the last row. Liu Dameng’s butt hovered, ready to sit next to him, but Qi Yang kicked him away.

“What’s the deal, you two sitting together?” Liu Dameng sat down in the row in front of Qi Yang. “Alright, I’ll sit here then.”

Qi Yang ignored him, resting his face on his hand and staring at Mu Yicong.

“You got a problem?” Mu Yicong finally spoke.

“Who do you think you are?” Qi Yang said. “I need a reason to talk to you?”

“That’s right,” Liu Dameng chimed in. “We’re old classmates…”

“If you’ve got nothing to do, fuck off.” Mu Yicong cut him off before he could finish.

Liu Dameng let out a “Fuck!”, and Qi Yang smirked, the corner of his mouth lifting.

Cui Wu and Flat Nose came in through the back door of the classroom, glanced at the three of them, and sat down next to Qi Yang, in the seat across the aisle.

“Hello,” Flat Nose greeted them proactively, leaning over Cui Wu. “I’m Ren Wei. Cui Wu and I went to the same middle school.”

This sudden, out-of-the-blue self-introduction made them all stare at him like he was an idiot.

“Is anyone talking to you?” Cui Wu asked.

His expression and tone made no effort to hide the fact that just knowing this guy was embarrassing.

“This guy gets too familiar too fast,” Liu Dameng turned to whisper to Qi Yang. “How awkward is that?”

Cui Wu clearly didn’t have a good relationship with this Ren Wei guy; he was pretty dismissive.

Hearing Liu Dameng’s comment, it was like he’d completely forgotten they were just about to fight. He shot Liu Dameng a look of agreement.

Liu Dameng, not holding a grudge, nodded back. The two of them even shook hands.

By shifting their mutual conflict onto a third person, Liu Dameng and Cui Wu had inexplicably formed a united front.

Ren Wei was quick on the uptake. Seeing that Liu Dameng was a troublesome guy, he gave an awkward smile and turned his attention to Qi Yang and Mu Yicong.

Before he could speak, a middle-aged man carrying a thermos slapped the classroom door twice and strode up to the podium.

This was probably their homeroom teacher for the next three years.

Qi Yang looked up and sized him up.

A striped shirt tucked into his waistband, a big jangling bunch of keys on his belt loop, dress pants paired with brown leather strappy sandals.

The typical nosy, science-geek male teacher get-up.

“Everyone find a seat for now.”

The teacher didn’t waste a word. He turned and wrote a big “WU” on the blackboard.

“My name is Wu. I teach math. My former students call me Old Wu. From now on, I’ll be your homeroom teacher.”

“I’m not going to give you a long speech. If you’re in high school, you should already know the drill. If you don’t, there’s no saving you.”

A low buzz of murmurs filled the room. These were all freshmen just up from ninth grade; none of them had ever had a teacher like this before.

Liu Dameng’s voice was the loudest. He was doing it on purpose, twisting his neck to say to Qi Yang, “High school is gonna be tough. This guy’s no pushover.”

“You, the one in the second-to-last row, stand up.” Old Wu suddenly called out, pointing at Liu Dameng.

Liu Dameng stood up, all twisted and crooked like he had fleas.

“What’s your name?” Old Wu asked.

“Liu Dameng.”

“Liu Dameng.” Old Wu nodded, then gestured behind him elegantly. “Go stand in the back.”

Punishment duty was like going to the bathroom for Liu Dameng. The empty space at the back of the classroom was basically his second home.

But it was the first day of high school. Nobody knew anyone yet. Watching Liu Dameng get chewed out, the whole class was covering their mouths, snickering.

Liu Dameng, ever the performer, let out a long sigh, gave a fake helpless smile, and dawdled his way over to stand behind Qi Yang.

With this show of force, by the time Old Wu spoke again, all the whispering in the room had died down.

There wasn’t much to do on the first day. Just register and meet the new homeroom teacher. Old Wu rearranged the seating.

He ignored the last three rows, only making minor adjustments to the front rows based on height.

It seemed in this homeroom teacher’s logic system, any student who proactively chose to sit in the back on the first day wasn’t worth trying to save.

After arranging the seats and handing out books, Old Wu checked the time and clapped his hands.

“Class dismissed. I’ll be in the classroom at 7 AM tomorrow. Anyone late will stand for the whole day, just like classmate Liu Dameng.”

The moment Old Wu left the classroom, the room was filled with groans of despair.

“Fuck me, I got targeted on the very first day,” Liu Dameng said, indignant.

“Don’t tell me you’re not enjoying it,” Qi Yang said. “You think you’re pretty slick.”

“Which eye sees me enjoying this?” Liu Dameng feigned anger and lunged at Qi Yang’s back.

As they roughhoused, Qi Yang’s elbow swung out and bumped into Mu Yicong’s arm.

Qi Yang did it on purpose.

Qi Yang had a bad personality. He was hot-tempered, didn’t talk much, and when he was unhappy, he’d just lash out.

Anyone who knew him a little better, including Qi Yang himself, was very clear on this.

But before he met Mu Yicong, in the just-over-a-decade of life Qi Yang had lived so far, there actually wasn’t anything he particularly disliked, or anyone he just hated the sight of.

The same went for liking or affection—he’d never felt a ten out of ten liking for anyone or anything, nor the belief that he really wanted something.

Absolute like and absolute hate, these two extreme emotions simply weren’t programmed into his personality dictionary.

Except when it came to bullying Mu Yicong.

Being able to generate such a long-lasting and stable feeling of dislike towards Mu Yicong, and to feel an addictive pleasure from bullying him, could, in a sense, be considered a miracle of Qi Yang’s own personal history.

The shared desk was only that big. He knew that if he just spread his elbows a little, he could poke Mu Yicong.

He just wanted to see how Mu Yicong would react.

As expected, Mu Yicong’s face darkened, and he fixed that deep, dark gaze on Qi Yang again.

“What are you looking at?” Qi Yang stared back, meeting his eyes.

Mu Yicong didn’t say anything.

“Same old stinking attitude, hasn’t changed a bit,” Liu Dameng fanned the flames from the side.

The students in the back rows hadn’t left yet. They were all blinking, watching this scene.

Staring at each other in silence was boring.

Qi Yang thought for a moment, then said to Mu Yicong, “Switch seats.”

“How do you want to switch?” Mu Yicong finally spoke.

“We switch,” Qi Yang said. “I like sitting by the wall.”

Mu Yicong looked at him, continuing to be as economical with his words as ever. “I like it too.”

Cui Wu was definitely a troublemaker from his middle school days too. The hostility in the back rows was so thick, everyone else was giving it a wide berth. He just stood there like he was watching a show, finding it interesting. He cupped his hands around his mouth and yelled, “Fight!”

“Yeah, fight! Whoever wins gets the seat!” Liu Dameng joined in.

High schoolers fought not out of any sense of morality or right and wrong, but often just to prove they were tougher, egged on by a crowd.

And that’s how Qi Yang and Mu Yicong’s first fight in high school started—for this petty reason.

Qi Yang wanted the other guy’s seat. A unilateral, unreasonable provocation.

Old Wu had just reached the staircase when Ren Wei chased after him and dragged him back.

Old Wu handled student fights the same way he handled his self-introductions: without a single wasted word.

He came into the classroom, had someone pull Qi Yang and Mu Yicong apart, stared at them for a bit, and finally fixed his gaze on Qi Yang.

“You two, Liu Dameng, and you,” Old Wu pointed at Cui Wu, “follow me to the office.”

Cui Wu, who had been innocently called out, was stunned. “What’s it got to do with me?”

“What about me?” Ren Wei volunteered to ask.

“You’re dismissed.” Old Wu turned and left.

Old Wu’s procedure for dealing with this first fight was also very simple. He didn’t even ask why they were fighting. Once in the office, he just said one thing: “Get your parents to come here.”

“I’m calling my parents just for some detention?” Liu Dameng was flabbergasted.

“You think you got the short end of the stick?” Cui Wu was even more flabbergasted.

Qi Yang didn’t care about calling his parents. He’d been a regular in the office ever since he started school.

The only one who showed any resistance to this request was Mu Yicong.

“That’s inconvenient for me,” he said, looking at Old Wu. “My parents aren’t in this city. They can’t make it here.”

Qi Yang sized him up along with Old Wu.

“It’s not a big deal,” Mu Yicong volunteered. “I’m willing to give my seat to Qi Yang.”

And there it was again, that holier-than-thou attitude.

Qi Yang really hated this about him.

Because he knew Mu Yicong wasn’t a coward who was afraid of things, the more he conceded, the more Qi Yang felt looked down upon.

“So the fight was about the seat,” Old Wu said.

Mu Yicong hummed in agreement.

“Isn’t that a bit childish?” Old Wu smirked slightly, then continued, “Do you all know each other? Same middle school?”

“I don’t know him,” Cui Wu answered woodenly, preemptively.

Liu Dameng couldn’t hold back his laughter. He pointed at Qi Yang and Mu Yicong. “The three of us are from the same middle school. Same class.”

Old Wu nodded. His gaze travelled across each of their faces, finally stopping again on Qi Yang’s.

“Put me and Qi Yang in different seats,” Mu Yicong said. “I’m not really close with them.”

“Like we’re dying to sit with you?” Liu Dameng looked thoroughly disgusted.

This homeroom teacher, Old Wu, was a bit unorthodox.

He didn’t, like other teachers would, prioritize separating students who had conflicts. Instead, he asked Qi Yang, “What do you think?”

“Me?”

Qi Yang met his gaze and couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow.

“I’m willing to be deskmates with Mu Yicong. He scored over 700 in the entrance exam. I really want to learn from him.”

As soon as he said this, Qi Yang could feel with his peripheral vision the vibrating shoulders of Liu Dameng trying to hold in his laughter, Cui Wu’s bewildered expression, and Mu Yicong’s fingers slowly curling into fists by his thigh.

No one knew what Old Wu was thinking. He agreed to Qi Yang’s request.

Before sending them back to the classroom, he straightened his face and said seriously, “I am a very democratic homeroom teacher.”

“I don’t want problem students in my class. Today is the first day of school. I’m giving you a chance. Those who don’t want to call their parents don’t have to. Those who want to sit together can continue to do so.”

“But I’m only giving one chance.”

“If you understand, go back. Don’t be late for class tomorrow.”

Mu Yicong was the first to turn and leave the office.

Cui Wu and Liu Dameng followed behind. Qi Yang took his time, walking at the back.

Once they were in the hallway, Cui Wu turned and asked Liu Dameng, “What’s the deal with you three, anyway?”

“I’ll tell you later,” Liu Dameng said, slapping him. He jumped over and hooked his arm around Qi Yang’s neck. “You’re a real piece of work, Yangzi!”

Qi Yang didn’t respond. His gaze was fixed straight ahead, locked on Mu Yicong’s retreating back.