Time Has Grown Dim, And Evening Has Already Fallen - Chapter 10

Chapter 10

Cheng Xun didn’t have the habit of wandering around the school supermarket after eating; back in his freshman year, Xie Qiubai would usually go in to buy things while he waited outside.

He glanced at Lu Xingshu sitting across from him and asked out of habit, “Do you need to go to the supermarket after lunch?”

Lu Xingshu answered instinctively, “Whatever.”

Cheng Xun: “…”

“It’s either yes or no. I hate it when people say ‘whatever’ most of all,” Cheng Xun couldn’t resist nagging him again.

Lu Xingshu paused and asked back, “Do you want to go?”

Cheng Xun pursed his lips speechlessly. How did this question turn back into whether he wanted to go or not?

“If you want to go, I can take you there.”

Lu Xingshu said calmly, “Then let’s go together.”

Cheng Xun hummed in agreement and quickly finished his lunch.

The two wandered over. There were a fair amount of people in the supermarket—not too many, but not a few either—and a line was forming at the checkout.

Lu Xingshu didn’t really browse. He just walked to the freezer section, grabbed two cans of soda, waited in line to pay, grabbed some straws, and handed one directly to Cheng Xun after popping the tab.

Cheng Xun was in the middle of replying to a message when he felt the icy cold soda pressed against his arm, making him jump slightly.

“I said I’d treat you,” Lu Xingshu said, looking down.

“?” Cheng Xun instinctively took the orange soda, but he still muttered in confusion, “Since when did we agree on that…”

He didn’t drink it immediately after taking it. Instead, he studied the brand for a moment and then said to Lu Xingshu with heavy importance: “You like this brand? Next time we go with Grandma to restock the shop, let’s just grab a whole case. The wholesale price is way cheaper than the supermarket.”

Lu Xingshu’s hand paused as he pulled his own ring tab. He didn’t offer any rebuttal, simply nodding his head in agreement.

Before the semester started, Cheng Xun had secretly sworn to himself that after the class reshuffle, he would listen seriously and do his homework properly to get his grades up.

Unfortunately, reality had other plans. Drowsiness hit whenever it pleased, and it was much easier to let his mind wander than to focus.

Lu Xingshu was looking down taking notes, but he caught a glimpse of Cheng Xun. Although the guy wasn’t asleep, his posture—propping his face up while staring into space—was a blatant display of slacking off.

“Cheng Xun.” The teacher’s voice was like a thunderclap next to his ear, instantly killing all the “sleep bugs” haunting his brain. “Come up and solve this problem.”

Cheng Xun blanked for a second or two before standing up with a dark expression. He hadn’t heard a single word just now. Looking at the physics problem on the blackboard, the equations looked like squiggly little insects in his eyes.

The sophomore physics teacher was a very young woman. She had only graduated a few years ago, but she was serious and dedicated—if a bit stiff in her teaching style.

Cheng Xun stared at the problem for a while. Rather than standing there awkwardly, he bit the bullet, scribbled a random solving process, arrived at an answer that wasn’t even in the same zip code as the correct one, and sat back down.

His back was stiff as he retreated, stubbornly resisting the “death stare” from the physics teacher.

Watching his “fake calm” expression, Lu Xingshu felt a sudden urge to laugh. When he realized he was feeling amused, he hesitated, his eyes darkening before returning to his cold, indifferent mask.

I’m doomed, Cheng Xun wailed internally.

The physics teacher would definitely remember his name now. It would be fine if he aced the monthly exams, but if he failed, he was toast.

This incident during physics class successfully chased away all of Cheng Xun’s sleepiness. That disastrously solved problem also earned him a lingering “concerned” gaze from the teacher.

The blow to his ego was significant. After class, Cheng Xun slumped onto his desk, looking like he’d lost all hope in life.

Lu Xingshu returned to his seat with a cup of water. Cheng Xun was still lying there like a salted fish, questioning his existence.

Lu Xingshu didn’t speak, maintaining his persona of the cold bystander.

When the bell rang for the next class, Cheng Xun rubbed his face and finally gathered some spirit. He rummaged through his desk for a clean notebook and began to take notes.

In his freshman year, he barely owned a notebook, usually just scribbling on the margins of his textbooks. Clearly, that wouldn’t work anymore. Even Lu Xingshu was taking notes properly; it seemed the first step for a “bad student” to change was learning how to imitate.

However, he didn’t have many spare notebooks left. It looked like he’d have to make another trip to the supermarket after dinner.

On the first day of mandatory evening self-study, many people were still struggling to adjust. The school’s schedule was to have a teacher give a lecture for the first period, followed by two periods of self-study for homework. They didn’t get out until nearly nine o’clock.

To Cheng Xun, the academic intensity of sophomore year was already much higher than freshman year.

Lu Xingshu didn’t feel much of anything. The education system at his provincial key high school was far more terrifying than No. 9 Middle School. He suddenly recalled that period of inexplicable academic burnout he’d gone through. His pen stayed on the paper for too long, leaving a bloat of ink.

He pulled back his wandering thoughts and used white-out to cover the ugly mark, as if erasing that chaotic memory.

The homework on the first day wasn’t too heavy. Cheng Xun actually worked hard for two periods and finished everything, meaning he didn’t have to stay up late at home.

Looking at Lu Xingshu, the guy had finished ages ago and was already working through extra practice problems.

Cheng Xun watched him curiously, his gaze similar to someone observing a rare animal.

Anyone would find it hard to ignore such a gaze. Lu Xingshu turned his face toward him. “Is something wrong?”

“Are all you ‘good students’ like this?” Cheng Xun asked sincerely.

“What do you mean?”

“Sailing the ‘sea of learning’ with ‘hardship as your boat’?”

Lu Xingshu was silent for a moment. His eyes were slightly downcast, the corners making him look gentle and innocent.

“You have a deep misunderstanding of me,” he said truthfully.

Cheng Xun was puzzled: “Do I? What am I misunderstanding?”

“Nothing.” Lu Xingshu was vague again.

Cheng Xun couldn’t help but complain: “You’re so annoying. Why do you always stop halfway?”

Lu Xingshu looked into Cheng Xun’s eyes. Their gazes met unexpectedly, but he quickly looked away. “I said it’s nothing.”

“…Tch.” Cheng Xun glared at him.

Don’t tell me then. It’s not like I really wanted to hear it.

Grandmother had cooked mung bean soup and put it in the fridge to chill. When they got home after class, they were just in time to have two bowls of icy, refreshing soup. It was delicious and perfect for the heat.

Cheng Xun didn’t dare eat too much; he had just recovered from his cold and couldn’t be too greedy with cold food.

Today was his turn to clean. After his shower, he took the laundry basket to wash the clothes. When he returned to the bedroom, he found Lu Xingshu wearing headphones and doing problems. His profile was elegant, his right hand gripping the pen showed distinct knuckles and long fingers—a total treat for anyone with a “hand fetish.”

This guy is truly blessed by the heavens.

Before going to sleep, Cheng Xun hesitated over whether to remind Lu Xingshu to go to bed early. In the end, he said nothing, simply switched off his small desk lamp and went to sleep first.

If this guy oversleeps again tomorrow, I am definitely going to mock him mercilessly.

The chaotic morning arrived. The sky was barely grey, and weak sunlight filtered through the curtains, creating tiny spots of light.

The phone alarm rang—the second round after being snoozed. Cheng Xun groggily checked his phone and finally felt his consciousness clear up.

He climbed down from the bed quietly, making almost no sound.

While he was changing, Lu Xingshu was still sleeping. He was dead to the world, showing no signs of waking up.

Cheng Xun still remembered the “grudge” from yesterday when the guy had pinned him by the neck, so he didn’t wake him. He put on his uniform, grabbed his backpack, and tiptoed out of the room.

Grandmother was confused to see him coming down alone. “Did Xiao Shu not come down with you?”

Cheng Xun’s cat-like eyes darted around, and a smile quickly appeared on his face. “He said he wanted to sleep a bit longer. If I go early, I can bring him breakfast.”

Grandmother didn’t think too deeply into it. She just patted his back and told him to stay safe on the road.

Cheng Xun nodded obediently and dashed out like a rabbit.

Grandmother watched his back, feeling happy. Seeing the two boys getting along without any conflict gave her great comfort.

Since he had promised Lu Xingshu yesterday, Cheng Xun bought two “Moon Buns” for him, secretly anticipating that the guy would be late and miss breakfast.

Sure enough, when the bell for morning self-study rang, the seat next to him was still empty.

Is Lu Xingshu really still sleeping?

No way, Grandma should have woken him up.

Cheng Xun thought absent-mindedly, frequently glancing toward the back door of the classroom. He turned his head so often he nearly strained his neck.

Halfway through the morning study, Lu Xingshu finally arrived, trailing late.

From a distance, one could tell his “ice-block face” looked even two degrees colder than usual.

However, he wasn’t the only latecomer. Another classmate started complaining as soon as he sat down. It turned out the Dean was at the school gate today catching late arrivals. Anyone even thirty seconds late was stopped at the gate to stand and “be educated.” It seemed Lu Xingshu had been one of them.

Looking at his freezing seatmate, Cheng Xun wanted to laugh but had to hold it in. In the end, he just rubbed his cheeks, which were aching from suppressed laughter.

He pulled the breakfast out of his desk and nudged Lu Xingshu with his elbow.

Lu Xingshu: “?”

Cheng Xun pushed the plastic bag over and whispered, “I said yesterday I’d let you try them.”

“Thanks,” Lu Xingshu replied. He then stared at Cheng Xun for a long while until the latter started to feel nervous.

“You’re the one who was late, don’t you dare try to blame me,” Cheng Xun said, somehow already able to read the intent in his eyes. He then added guiltily, “Besides, I totally called you this morning. You just slept too soundly.”

Anyway, people tell an average of six lies a day. This is harmless, right?

Lu Xingshu’s expression flickered between “speechless” and “no way in hell I believe you,” but it was true that he had overslept. He couldn’t really blame Cheng Xun. Plus, the guy had brought him breakfast.

“I’ll wake up early tomorrow.”

After saying this, Lu Xingshu silently opened the bag and started eating the bun.

Cheng Xun finally burst out laughing, unable to hold it in: “You said that yesterday too!”

Tell it to the ghosts.

Fortunately, the breakfast tasted excellent, and Lu Xingshu’s mood improved considerably.