Chapter 3: Discipline

Li Ran dashed from the school gate back to High School Class 20 in one breath, panting heavily.

His figure shot forward like a soaring arrow—anyone could see he could knock a cow flying—but when he abruptly shoved open the back door, he made almost no noise.

He suppressed the heaving of his chest, keeping his gasps within half a meter so his classmates wouldn’t hear. Because it was so hot, he quietly undid the buttons on his shirt. Just two, so the collar didn’t open much.

But the cut and size of his shirt were a bit loose, and the button spacing was wider than normal. Casually undoing two buttons exposed his entire collarbone. The collar provided some cover, though, so it was fine.

“Three, two… See, I told you A’Dai would arrive right on the dot,” the guy in front of him extended a hand to his deskmate, smugly declaring, “Precise control within three seconds—that’s my skill, haha. Pay up.”

His deskmate honored the bet with a grin, digging a golden fifty-cent coin from his pocket and slapping it into the guy’s palm. He turned back and complained, “A’Dai, you screwed me over big time. Why do you always slip in during the last ten seconds? Can you come a minute early tomorrow? Let me win two bucks.”

To make their bets more convenient, the two always swapped their snacks from the canteen for fifty-cent coins, their pockets jingling. Fortunately, they never bet on Li Ran himself.

Li Ran gave a friendly smile to Zhang Si, who had lost his fifty cents for the umpteenth time. “The teacher arrives right on the dot too.”

Otherwise, how could he dare do the same?

Over all these years of school, Li Ran had encountered hot-tempered teachers who lit firecrackers before class and exploded throughout the lesson with bangs and crashes; he’d also met slow-as-molasses types who moved like they’d been snails in their past life and felt guilty rushing in this one.

Hot-tempered or laid-back had nothing to do with ambition—Li Ran had never met a teacher passionate enough about work to arrive early. Not even his homeroom teacher. Everyone just muddled through.

Li Ran suspected it was his aura—laid-back natures attracted each other.

“Don’t smile like that, Li Ran,” Zhang Si clutched his chest. “Don’t smile, don’t smile. You look nothing like A’Dai when you do. I can’t take it, A’Dai!”

The first class after lunch was math, going over last week’s exam papers. Li Ran pulled his textbook from his bag, the test paper tucked inside. He pursed his lips, one hand unconsciously rubbing his chin to smooth his mouth, awkwardly asking, “…Then what do I look like?”

“A male fox spirit. The seductive kind.”

“…”

Li Ran didn’t like the label “male fox spirit,” nor did he like being called A’Dai. He considered himself honest but not stupid—pretty sharp most of the time. Yet he’d never objected; he even answered to it. His classmates of two years had no idea about the little rants he’d composed in his head.

He expressed his displeasure to Zhang Si with silence. The class bell rang, and Zhang Si cheerfully turned back around. Li Ran immediately wrinkled his nose, amplifying his dissatisfaction.

Though no one probably noticed.

Steady, rhythmic footsteps echoed in the hallway as the teacher entered right on time.

Li Ran sat in the last row, by the window in the corner. Safe.

The math teacher, who also served as homeroom teacher, was only in his thirties, but his hair was thinning, and his youth had faded. Li Ran had never seen his ambitious, high-spirited early teaching days, so he’d never witnessed the homeroom teacher’s enthusiasm for arriving early and staying late either.

After more than ten years on the job, with no ambitious students in the class, the man had lost his initial drive. Whatever.

If you can’t stand it, quit. Hah.

The math teacher stood at the podium, his gaze sweeping sharply downward. If his eyes were machine guns, every student in High School Class 20 would be riddled with bullets, dead on the spot.

He unfolded the test paper and said gravely, “The results from last week’s citywide exam are out. Eight high schools joined in, and ours ranked dead last. We have ten classes in grade twelve, and you were the worst!” His voice suddenly rose, startling Li Ran out of his thoughts.

The homeroom teacher continued, “You’re the worst class I’ve ever taught! All you do is play around! Don’t you realize how little time you have left to mess around? Where will you go after graduation? You won’t even find jobs—how miserable is that?! Earning three thousand a month, rushing to beat the crowd through a green light on your way to work, and if you scratch someone else’s car paint, you won’t be able to pay for it!”

High School Class 20 had sixty students, a dense concentration of slackers. The homeroom teacher’s barrage was aimed at the whole class, but Li Ran felt personally targeted. Everyone was stunned.

He pouted sadly. He really couldn’t afford it.

Soon, he remembered what he’d been about to think earlier: “…Where’s my deskmate?”

The seat beside him was empty. His deskmate had vanished for half the class before Li Ran finally thought of him. It was class time now, so Li Ran followed the rules and didn’t pull out his phone to check.

“The old man’s lost it today,” Zhang Si remarked during the break as the class buzzed noisily.

“You teach for over ten years, always ranking dead last in scores, and you wouldn’t go crazy?”

“But our class really is the worst.”

“I heard the academic affairs office assigned him a good class last semester, but he wouldn’t take it.”

“Maybe he thinks we still have hope?”

“The old man’s got principles.”

“Our school’s not that bad anyway. We might be at the bottom, but out of all the high schools in the city, only eight famous ones do joint exams. We’re way better than the no-names.”

“By that logic, our class isn’t so bad either. We’re at the bottom, but we’re competing with top students.”

“That’s right. If we were really that awful, could I score 80 in math? That’s 80, not 8!”

“Yeah, look at my paper—I got 60 in math this time! Not 6.”

“I got 70. Not bad at all.”

“How much did A’Dai get?”

Zhang Si flipped through Li Ran’s test paper.

55.5. Steady performance.

No one knew how perfectly that score matched Li Ran’s mood. He gloomily checked his phone.

One more multiple-choice right, and he wouldn’t have three fives.

One more fill-in correct, and he could’ve kicked off two fives.

But no—it was 55.5…

His deskmate had messaged him at seven that morning, but he’d missed it.

Qi Zhi: [Dai, my aunt flew back from abroad suddenly this morning. Dad and I went to pick her up. Don’t be surprised if you don’t see me~]

His deskmate was a sunny basketball star, the kind who easily won favor from men, women, young, and old alike.

Li Ran was about to reply when a new message popped up first.

Mom: [Class over? Grades out yet?]

Li Ran tensed up immediately.

He fumbled with his phone, typing frantically, and only sent a reply just before class started.

Li Ran: [Yeah.]

Mom: [How’d you do?]

Li Ran, feeling guilty: [Not bad.]

Mom: [Math score?]

Mom: [90?]

Mom: [Or 80?]

Li Ran, even guiltier: [About that.]

Mom: [That’s awful. Last time you said you’d study hard. Your papers pass at 92.]

Mom: [You’re almost in senior year. Take responsibility for your future.]

There were many more lectures after that, but Li Ran couldn’t reply to every one. He’d just say sorry, I’ll try harder.

When Bai Qingqing switched topics, Li Ran realized how much he missed his mom.

Mom: [Where are you staying this summer break? Your dad’s place?]

Mom: [I don’t want you going. He’s a disgusting jerk.]

Mom: [He can’t take care of you. Come to Mom’s.]

Mom: [I don’t have much education, but I want you happy. I’m trying too, Ranran.]

Li Ran’s nose stung, and so did his heart.

Mom: [Ranran, Mom really loves you. Miss you.]

Mom: [Come for dinner this weekend. I’ll cook your favorites. Your uncle likes you too.]

Mom: [Won’t bring up grades at the table. I know not to pressure you too much, even if I want you to study well. Health first.]

Mom: [Eat lots.]

Li Ran replied instantly: [[Nods.jpg]]

Followed by 18 emojis in a row.

During class, Li Ran’s mind was filled with visions of devouring a feast at his mom’s that weekend.

He nearly drooled.

No classes that afternoon; the school organized students from each class to head orderly to the spacious Sports Plaza.

Half a month ago, the principal had announced during the flag-raising ceremony that a successful alumnus from years back would give a motivational lecture to inspire the students.

The alumnus had technically only attended one year of high school here.

Time: 3 p.m.

Location: Sports Plaza.

Qi Zhi had taken the day off, leaving Li Ran without his deskmate—feeling rather lonely. Zhang Si and the others didn’t let him wander alone like a stray curly-top; they ruffled his springy hair and went together to hear the alumnus speak.

Zhang Si said the guy was incredible.

At thirteen, he’d independently developed a game framework simulating a Parallel World; at fifteen, first in the city physics competition, guaranteed admission to a foreign university; at seventeen, full game launch with rave reviews; at eighteen, he’d become a rising tech star in the country.

His company had skyrocketed in recent years, with his net worth over a hundred million.

And he’d done it all without a shred of his family’s immense power and influence.

Li Ran was honest, seemingly desireless, but he admired the strong. Zhang Si hyped the alumnus as a one-of-a-kind genius, probably exaggerating, but Li Ran still felt a surge of envy.

Same species, two eyes, one nose—how could IQ gaps be so vast? People really are better off dead by comparison.

“What’s the alumnus’s name?” someone asked.

“—Chi Mo.”

When Li Ran, seated among over a thousand students, looked up at Chi Mo high on stage, the center of attention, it felt like a dream.

Chi Mo shone under the spotlight, dazzling.

That morning, he’d scratched this man’s car, and the man had let him ride to school; that afternoon, he sat below, watching the man lecture as both a former high school alumnus and now a celebrated business tycoon and CEO.

Really like a dream.

Li Ran gently tugged at the curly hair on his forehead, watching it straighten mercilessly before springing back. He wondered if he’d truly crossed paths with such a big shot.

Though the main issue was owing him money…

The nearly two-hour lecture kept almost no one dozing; every eye was focused, with occasional admiring gasps and well-timed applause.

Deafening.

Li Ran figured a big reason was that Chi Mo was just too handsome… such superior looks. Who wouldn’t want to ogle?

Li Ran wasn’t gay, but he’d stared for a good while too. He couldn’t remember a word Chi Mo said; nothing stuck in his brain.

That’s what idiots were like.

At five, classes returned orderly for the last self-study session.

The crowd dispersed quickly.

Zhang Si and the others headed to the bathroom; Li Ran had gone midway and now felt fine, waiting under the banyan tree outside.

A man with a powerful aura passed by Li Ran.

“Tie your shoelaces.”

Li Ran jolted in fright and turned to see Chi Mo’s face.

He wanted to back away but couldn’t.

The man who’d been addressing the entire school and faculty just ten minutes ago now stood before him, issuing a non-negotiable reminder to tie his laces.

Coming from Chi Mo, it didn’t feel nosy—instead, it compelled obedience.

Li Ran didn’t dare disobey anyway.

“…Oh.” Terrified, Li Ran looked down. His laces had come undone somehow; luckily, he hadn’t tripped. He squatted to fix them.

From this angle, anyone standing beside him could clearly see his dense hair whorl and the two open buttons at his collar. His shirt’s cut was off, buttons spaced wrong—a bit big. The slender, flawless side of his neck connected to a small expanse of collarbone, blindingly white in the sunlight.

“…Done.” After tying them, Li Ran stood ramrod straight like at military inspection. His toes unconsciously pointed forward, posture begging the family elder to inspect and praise him.

But Chi Mo was far from satisfied.

“Button up,” he said.