Hopeless Romance (GL) - Chapter 41

Chapter 41

Here is the English translation of the text provided:

Chemical formulas and physics equations grew more numerous by the day. To maintain her rank in the top twenty, Ye Du found herself forced to spend her Chinese and English classes doing science problems throughout the entire second semester of her freshman year. Lacking the natural talent to grasp concepts instantly, she could only rely on a “sea of problems” strategy. Fortunately, her grades in Chinese and English had always been stable; as long as her behavior of “hanging a sheep’s head while selling dog meat” (doing one thing under the guise of another) wasn’t too blatant, both teachers turned a blind eye.

However, her physics scores simply wouldn’t budge. In a fit of rage, Ye Du once threw her physics textbook down from the fifth floor, only to go trudging back down to retrieve it less than two minutes later after cooling off. If she didn’t, she would have to go to the Xinhua Bookstore to buy a new one and spend ages catching up on notes. Besides, what good did agonizing over it do? She couldn’t just not learn it; she couldn’t give up. So, she gritted her teeth and endured, forcing herself to keep writing and thinking until she finally got her wish and wrote the word “Liberal Arts” on her major intention form.

Ye Du felt as though the preparation for the High School Entrance Exam that she had missed out on due to her direct promotion was being fully repaid in this ordeal. Luckily, she got the result she wanted, and she began to imagine her life after entering the liberal arts class. There were several formidable characters in the liberal arts track whose scores in Politics, History, and Geography were excellent. This was where Ye Du fell short; during her year in Class 1, she had barely attended those classes, having sacrificed most of them to Math, Physics, and Chemistry. Thus, she was planning to have Ye Sangshu find her a good tutor to review the key knowledge points from the first year. She intended to do more problems and summarize more effectively, striving to close the gap by the end of the second year. As for her advantages in Math, Chinese, and English, she needed to maintain them well—even if she didn’t take the top spot in the liberal arts track, she had to stay firmly within the top ten.

As the Math class neared its end, Li Jiangang asked Gu Nancheng to collect the intention forms. He specifically looked at what Ye Du had filled in. He had intended to ask a few questions, but seeing Ye Du’s rare look of happiness, he felt there was no need to ruin her good mood. It didn’t matter, anyway; the liberal arts experimental class was right next door to Class 1. It would still be quite convenient to see her.

“What were you guys just chatting about?” Right after class, Lin Meixin was pulled out of the classroom by Gu Nancheng.

“We? Me and who?” Lin Meixin had just woken up from a nap during class and wasn’t quite fully conscious yet.

“Luo Ran, and Ye Du. Weren’t you guys just talking?” Due to his geographic advantage as Ye Du’s front-seat neighbor and long-term homework-copying partner, Lin Meixin was the person in Class 1 most familiar with Ye Du, second only to Xu Jian.

“If you want to ask about Ye Du, why drag Luo Ran into it? People charge an appearance fee,” Lin Meixin replied. His massive 186cm frame leaned straight against the wall; his logic was as direct as his stature.

“Don’t give me an irrelevant answer, okay?” If they weren’t at school, Gu Nancheng would have punched Lin Meixin long ago. The two of them, by some fated coincidence, had been classmates since kindergarten, walking through elementary and middle school together before meeting again at Yun-Chuan. It was hard not to suspect their parents had shared information when choosing schools.

“We were just talking about what track everyone chose. Ye Du filled in Liberal Arts.” Lin Meixin thought back, wondering what such a mundane conversation could possibly offer Gu Nancheng.

“I know that. Did she say why she chose Liberal Arts? Is the atmosphere in Class 1 not good?” Gu Nancheng had seen Ye Du’s scores from this exam. If calculated by the six subjects for Science versus Liberal Arts, her Science total was actually 20 points higher than her Liberal Arts total. Logically, Ye Du should have chosen the Science track.

“Do I look like Ye Du to you?” Lin Meixin sighed, asking a question that left Gu Nancheng bewildered.

Gu Nancheng suppressed a roll of his eyes. “Haven’t you looked in a mirror? You’re nowhere near.”

“Oh, so you do know my name isn’t Ye Du? I’m not her spokesperson; why would she tell me that much? If you want to know, ask her yourself.” Irritated by Gu Nancheng’s questioning, Lin Meixin prepared to head to the restroom before going back for another nap—he had stayed up far too late playing games the night before. However, as he turned around, he nearly collided with someone.

Chen Pupu had also just handed in her major intention form. Although Ye Du had told her in advance that she was coming to Liberal Arts, nothing was certain until the forms were finalized. So, as soon as class ended, she dragged Cui Tong to the Class 1 classroom. The two ran excitedly up the stairs only to have their path blocked by a large figure; fortunately, they grabbed each other to keep from falling.

“I’m sorry.” Lin Meixin didn’t even have time to see who it was before he started apologizing profusely.

“It’s fine.” Cui Tong saw that she and Chen Pupu were unscathed and didn’t think the incident warranted such guilt, so she waved it off generously.

As a teenage boy whose life consisted only of games, basketball, and burgers, this was Lin Meixin’s first time interacting with girls at such close proximity—especially girls who were smiling at him. He blushed rapidly, though since he was more than a head taller than Cui Tong, it wasn’t noticed.

“Can you move aside?” Seeing that Lin Meixin showed no intention of moving, Cui Tong didn’t dare lose her temper and could only ask tentatively. After all, he looked tall and strong; even if she added Cao Yijing to the mix, they certainly couldn’t beat him.

At Cui Tong’s question, Lin Meixin felt even more embarrassed and hurried to step aside to clear the path.

Having followed Chen Pupu to Class 1 so often, Cui Tong felt like half a member of Class 1 herself. She didn’t feel at all out of place standing at the door of someone else’s classroom. Controlling her volume, she called Ye Du out.

“Did you fill it out?” As soon as Chen Pupu spoke, Ye Du knew what she was going to ask, but she didn’t interrupt her, letting her ask.

Ye Du didn’t answer immediately. She looked down at her canvas shoes, thinking they needed a cleaning, then turned to look at the increasingly green ivy, feeling that summer had truly arrived. Seeing Ye Du’s seemingly guilty expression, Chen Pupu felt a bit down. She felt that since starting high school, the two of them had grown a bit distant because they weren’t in the same class. If Ye Du could choose Liberal Arts, they would have more common topics and could be closer.

“Alright, I filled in Liberal Arts,” Ye Du answered, sounding as if she were coaxing someone. In truth, she rarely felt the urge to tease others because she found little joy in it, but at this moment, she couldn’t help herself. This was the first time she had taken charge of her own life; the sense of joy was like a swordsman being hunted in a dense forest finally shaking off the enemy and finding her own way out.

Chen Pupu was momentarily overjoyed but felt she shouldn’t let Ye Du get too proud. For a moment, she didn’t know whether to be happy or angry. Cui Tong watched with great interest from the side, but as Chen Pupu’s friend, she spoke up: “Pupu, you might as well just laugh; your smile is already very obvious.”

“Um, Student Ye Du, can I reserve a tutoring spot? Like the one Pupu has.” Cui Tong wouldn’t miss this opportunity; she firmly believed in the logic that “it’s good to lean against a big tree for shade.”

“Ask Pupu.” Since she was Chen Pupu’s friend, Ye Du found it hard to refuse directly.

“That depends on my mood. I’m a Super-Super-VIP,” Chen Pupu said proudly. In a sense, she was Ye Du’s sole “disciple.”

Chen Pupu and Cui Tong had barely left, and Ye Du hadn’t even had time to settle into her seat, when Lin Meixin in front of her suddenly whipped his head around. The force of the movement nearly overturned Ye Du’s desk. Ye Du expressed her dissatisfaction and questioned him with wide eyes, but Lin Meixin was direct: “What’s that girl’s name? The one with the longer hair.”

“Cui Tong, Class 12.” Satisfied with the answer, Lin Meixin turned back around, only to be tapped by Ye Du. “Do you… like her?” Although Ye Du usually spoke very directly and Lin Meixin had grown used to it after knowing her for a long time, he hadn’t expected her to be so blunt regarding this topic. He wished he could cover her mouth.

Fortunately, the school bell rescued the boy whose secret had been exposed.

Meeting someone you like and getting the result you want are things worth being happy about, but life naturally doesn’t grant its favors at every moment—that is perhaps the wonder of living. One can never predict the world of the next second. No matter how hard one has worked to control and pursue something, when everything appears before you in an unacceptable form, you still have no choice but to accept it.

This was the thought that arose in Ye Du’s mind when she stood at the door of Class 2 but could not find her name on the list. She checked it carefully several times, but in the end, she still couldn’t find those two familiar characters. She paused for a long while, feeling people passing by her, looking and then leaving—it seemed everyone except her had found their place. Ye Du thought back to the pile of exercise books still pressed beside her desk at home, the many days and nights of hard work, the countless pen refills used up, and the callouses that had gradually thickened. With a desperate certainty, she walked back a bit and very easily found herself on that list. Or, in another sense, she had lost herself.

Ye Du returned once more to that set of desk and chair. The desktop she had just cleaned the day before hadn’t even had time to collect dust, just as the joy she had felt yesterday hadn’t had time to be diluted by time. There were some new faces in the classroom; she was curious about how the new students felt coming to Class 1. Was it similar to how she had imagined going to Class 2—nervous yet expectant? But regardless, it was likely not like how she felt now: aggrieved and resentful. She knew very well that Li Jiangang wouldn’t have made the change on his own; this must have been done with Ye Sangshu’s consent. Ye Du desperately wanted to bury her head on the desk and cry without restraint. But what then? She would still have to stay in Class 1. Like a futile attempt at running away from home, the final result was still returning home; remembering it later would only make it feel like a farce with a very low “price-performance ratio.”

“Didn’t you… fill in Liberal Arts?” As soon as Ye Du walked in, Gu Nancheng noticed.

Ye Du pulled her textbooks out of her bag one by one and placed them on the desk. When she reached the Math book, she looked up at Gu Nancheng standing nearby. Ye Du was certain her expression was terrible. Gu Nancheng didn’t ask further; he simply placed a bag of Want Want Milk Candy on her desk. Gu Nancheng suffered from hypoglycemia, and the doctor had advised him to keep candy on him at all times. He had been in a hurry this morning and forgotten to bring some, so he bought a bag at the school gate, though he hadn’t had time to eat it yet. Ye Du spent the entire morning enduring this reality. She chewed the candy Gu Nancheng had given her, swallowing the hard work and grievances along with the sugar piece by piece, constantly convincing herself not to break down or make a scene. Only in this way, when she faced the care of others again, could she be relieved and dignified; and only in this way, when facing Chen Pupu, could she be unreservedly guilt-ridden.

Regarding seeing Ye Du in the classroom as usual, Xu Jian didn’t ask much, because Ye Du acted too normally. It looked as if she had stayed in Class 1 willingly, as if everything from the day before had been a fantasy, and this result was the reality that had actually happened. To take a step back, Xu Jian simply didn’t know how to comfort her, because she couldn’t offer any solution. Those phrases like “it will get better” and “it’s okay” were nothing but futile words, more about fulfilling one’s duty as a friend than anything else.