“Let’s go to PE class together later.”
Zhu Chenxi faced the invitation without any hesitation and nodded directly. As a transfer student, she indeed needed a buddy in the current situation. “What activities do we usually have in PE class?” Her limbs were uncoordinated, and she really hated ball sports.
A small group of people gathered around Zhu Chenxi, and the same happened around Song Fu. They all racked their brains trying to figure out how to comfort her.
In their class, aside from the outlier Ci Ye, no one didn’t care about their grades. What’s more, this was Song Fu’s first time not taking first place. “I saw the score sheet. You only did a bit worse in two subjects; the rest are still first. You’re still amazing.”
The supporting female lead was the type who cared but wouldn’t show it on her face, so Song Fu didn’t need to keep up a gloomy state. She tugged at the corners of her mouth, wanting to say it was no big deal. But just as the word “no” came out of her mouth, she heard—
“Song Fu, the homeroom teacher wants you to come to his office.”
“Okay, got it.”
The girl in the front seat looked nervous and full of hesitation. “The homeroom teacher probably won’t scold you, right?”
Song Fu wasn’t sure either; she’d know when she got there. “I don’t know when I’ll be back. You guys go to PE class first; no need to wait for me.”
…
She pushed open the door to the office and first heard a sigh.
The balding homeroom teacher sat there, with the freshly released score sheet on his desk. When he saw Song Fu come in, he tapped the table, his tone heavy. “You’ve seen the scores. Do you know where the problem was?”
Song Fu pursed her lips. “I didn’t perform well.” She absolutely couldn’t admit that someone was better than her.
“I thought you didn’t know, but you do.” The homeroom teacher propped his arms on the desk and crossed his hands. “More precisely, it wasn’t that you didn’t perform well; you were too careless. I heard from your Teacher Chen that what you wrote on the paper was clearly the correct answer, so how could you bubble the wrong one? If our skill level really wasn’t enough, that’d be one thing, but we can’t trip over something this small.”
“Your Teacher Chen said she reminded you several times to check, but you didn’t even look.”
When the homeroom teacher said this, he felt his tone was too harsh, so he softened his voice. “We have to learn from this mistake and grow wiser, right?”
Song Fu: “…” So that really had been aimed at her, not her overactive imagination.
Song Fu let out a listless “mm” and lowered her head, staring blankly at the patterns on the floor.
The homeroom teacher had been teaching for a few years and understood students’ personalities and the problems they might face quite well. Someone who had always excelled could easily not tolerate the slightest flaw. He worried that Song Fu’s competitive spirit might shatter, so he began his comforting words again. “Don’t take this score too seriously. If you’d performed normally, first place would definitely still be yours. The model answers this time are still reprints of your answer sheet.”
“No need.” Song Fu refused. “I’m not first, so it should be the first place’s.”
The homeroom teacher didn’t read any unwillingness on her face. “Alright, study hard and aim to take first again next time.” He’d said what he needed to. He waved his hand. “I won’t hold you up anymore. Go to PE class. Adjust your mindset, got it? Take this test paper with you first.”
Song Fu acknowledged it and left the office.
Once the sound of the door closing faded, the teacher from the next class, who had been listening for half the time, spoke up. “All the good students end up in your class. How about, next time, whoever gets second transfers to our class? If they can’t be the top of the school, being top of the class still sounds pretty good.”
The homeroom teacher grinned, but his words were blunt. “You wish.”
…
Song Fu walked back toward the classroom, planning to erase the traces on the paper along with changing the answers next time. She yawned.
As she rubbed her eyes, she bumped into a “wall” at the classroom door. Without looking up, she tossed out an “sorry” and planned to continue inside, but that “wall” had no intention of moving.
Song Fu stepped back half a pace and lifted her eyelashes. What entered her view was a head of flamboyant, unruly red hair—it was Ci Ye, much taller than her.
She hadn’t paid much attention before, but now standing face-to-face this close, the height difference suddenly became obvious. Her head seemed to only reach Ci Ye’s mouth. “Why aren’t you in PE class?”
“Just, don’t wanna go.”
Ci Ye scratched his hair and looked at the person in front of him with red-rimmed eyes. He didn’t know where to put his hands and feet. Gritting his teeth, he comforted her. “Not getting first isn’t a big deal. Second is still awesome, same thing. Don’t be sad…”
“Not the same.”
Song Fu turned her head to the side and walked past Ci Ye quickly. Without looking back, she continued. “First is the best. Second isn’t. Do you get it?”
As the perennial last place, Ci Ye had no concept of competition and couldn’t understand why that “best” mattered so much, but it didn’t stop him from feeling nervous. “Weekly exam rankings don’t mean anything. At least wait for the monthly exam.”
“I’m going to PE class.” Song Fu took two steps, then stopped. Her tone was so cold it could smash a hole in the ground. “I don’t need your comfort.”
Once the person completely vanished from sight, Ci Ye, left alone in the classroom, slowly let out an “oh” and muttered, “So fierce.”
Next exam, Song Fu should be able to get back to first, right?
He had just seen the score sheet; the gap between first and second wasn’t big.
Reality was harsh and unforgiving. Another weekly exam, and Song Fu was still second. The class wasn’t as shocked as the first time, but they still paid attention to Song Fu’s mood—some out of concern, some just wanting to watch the drama.
This time, the homeroom teacher called Song Fu in for a talk again. The content was much the same as before, all about caring.
He looked at the crumpled score sheet in Song Fu’s hand and took two sips of his tea. “Isn’t the monthly exam coming up soon?”
Monthly exam scores.
Song Fu remembered this was the final straw that broke the supporting female lead. She thought she had worked hard enough, so she couldn’t accept losing. Perhaps because she cared too much, after the monthly exam results came out, she even got so angry she fell ill, letting everyone know how much she cared about that first place.
Song Fu didn’t forget her stubborn persona. “Teacher, I don’t care about rankings as much as you think. You don’t need to keep reminding me over and over.”
The homeroom teacher gave a dry laugh. “…Is that so?”
Could she at least look at the score sheet in her hand while saying that? It was almost balled up. He couldn’t call her out on it and could only sigh helplessly.
As Song Fu was about to leave, he called her back. “Help me call Zhu Chenxi over. I want to talk to her a bit.”
…
When Song Fu went to call her, Zhu Chenxi was doing practice problems.
She tapped the desk. “The homeroom teacher wants you to come over.”
Zhu Chenxi looked up and said “oh.” “I’ll go right now.”
In a class where group dynamics had long stabilized, newcomers were often unconsciously excluded. Zhu Chenxi, as the transfer student, was the same; she didn’t have anyone in the class she could call a friend yet.
Song Fu knew the homeroom teacher called people over to ask if they were settling in and see if he could help.
As with the plot that was supposed to happen, next, the homeroom teacher would give the female lead some help in making friends—like organizing a four-person study group or assigning her to take photos at the school sports meet.
Zhu Chenxi had already left, and Song Fu planned to return to her seat. “Knock knock.” A head appeared at the window.
“Hey, Song Fu, the one who just left—is that the new transfer student at our school?” It was Lu Qunwen from the next class, deliberately coming over for a look.
Everything was going smoothly; Song Fu was in a good mood. “Yeah, her. Our school’s new first place.”
“You were complaining the other day about being the perennial second, but now you’re not. How’s your mood?” She teased with a smile, her eyes curving.
Lu Qunwen answered honestly. “Meh. The number three sounds too sharp; not as nice as two.”
He didn’t read any frustration on Song Fu’s face and sighed that her mindset was great. When he saw he’d come third, his eyes had nearly popped out, and he’d almost passed out from anger. But hearing Song Fu had been overtaken too made him feel better. “No worries, we’ll keep pushing. The outcome is uncertain; you and I are both dark horses.”
That was too exaggerated. Song Fu rejected the high-five and crossed her arms. “Sure, keep pushing.”
Lu Qunwen left. Song Fu heard a “hmph,” and from the corner of her eye, she caught a handsome face full of resentment. Ci Ye had been staring at her who-knew-how-long, his lips pressed into a straight line.
She realized belatedly and chose to apologize. “Did I disturb your sleep? Sorry.”
Ci Ye’s expression didn’t improve; if anything, he looked even more pissed.
The two of them didn’t act close in class. The top and bottom of the rankings had no connection, and they barely spoke two sentences a week. Before any adolescent feelings kicked in, Song Fu had no plans to change the status quo, so she didn’t ask further and just walked away.
Ci Ye opened his mouth and muttered in a volume only he could hear, “Playing favorites.”
How could she do that?
Even if playing favorites, she should be nicer to him, right? Why be so friendly to that Lu Qunwen guy, who wasn’t even a classmate!
Hmph.
She didn’t need comfort from him, but smiled at Lu Qunwen—and smiled so nicely.
That polite attitude earlier was the most infuriating part.
Song Fu sat back down at her desk and prepared to organize her test papers. Her deskmate quietly leaned to her ear and reminded her. “Ci Ye seems to be glaring at you. He wouldn’t hit you, would he? Should we tell the homeroom teacher?”
Because of this, Song Fu turned her head and met Ci Ye’s resentful gaze head-on. “…” Was his morning grumpiness acting up again?
She looked away. “He won’t. He’s never hit anyone randomly anyway.”
Her deskmate cautiously glanced over. “But he has hit people, right?” And more than once.
She’d heard the high school freshman who fought Ci Ye got beaten black and blue and even dropped out. Yet Ci Ye, who started it, faced no consequences and stayed in school. All because the Ci family had donated enough money to build a building when Ci Ye first enrolled.