Time Has Grown Dim, And Evening Has Already Fallen - Chapter 7

Chapter 7

I didn’t expect you two to actually end up in the same class, Xie Qiubai muttered while biting into a Popsicle. None of our old crew managed to stay with Brother Cheng.

The friends who played together in Grade 10 had basically been scattered to the winds by the reshuffle. No one knew exactly how the school determined the class lists.

Regarding this, Cheng Xun was quite open-minded. We’ll get to know the new people in a few days anyway. What are you worrying so much for?

Lu Xingshu was also biting a Popsicle, but he remained silent, offering no opinion.

Xie Qiubai raised an eyebrow, his smile a bit rakish. “Don’t say that. I’m about to be a butterfly among the flowers soon~”

“Just because the Arts track has more girls doesn’t mean they’re all blind, Cheng Xun retorted mercilessly, rolling his eyes for good measure.

Xie Qiubai: “Sob, sob, sob.“

Lu Xingshu: “…”

Oh, right.” Xie Qiubai seemed to remember something. His eyes circled from Lu Xingshu back to Cheng Xun, and he said with feigned mystery. After people found out the milk tea shop was opened by my cousin, a ton of them came to pester me for info. It’s driving me crazy. I have to explain to them one by one that your family’s Lu Xingshu doesn’t have a phone or WeChat.

Cheng Xun looked at him with a deadpan expression, then glanced at Lu Xingshu sitting beside him. Finally, he took a fierce bite of his Popsicle. Good. He wouldn’t add them anyway.

Back when they were still squeezing onto the small wooden bed together, Cheng Xun had accidentally glimpsed Lu Xingshu’s WeChat contact list; it was pitifully short.

That’s exactly what I said!” Xie Qiubai imitated him, crunching his ice and tossing the stick away. He hasn’t even added me, so why would he add them? At the very least, he and I have shared a meal—we’re acquaintances. Brother Cheng’s brother is my brother, too.

Lu Xingshu: “…”

He lowered his eyes, unlocked his phone, opened WeChat, found his QR code, and handed it toward Xie Qiubai.

Xie Qiubai successfully scanned it. “OK.”

Cheng Xun watched silently as they exchanged contact info, finally adding a reminder to Xie Qiubai: “Remember not to just push his WeChat to others. It’s bad manners to do that without the owner’s permission.”

Xie Qiubai gave a chuckle and said dismissively, “I know where the line is, okay? I’m not the kind of shallow man who just hands out contact info to anyone~”

Cheng Xun: “…”

Cheng Xun looked at him speechlessly, feeling like the conversation had been derailed yet again.

Grade 11 required commuting students to attend evening self-study as well, which meant the time Cheng Xun used to carve out for work on weekdays was gone.

Grandma also expressed her hope that he wouldn’t work so hard. Tuition and living expenses weren’t things children should worry about; she could afford to support one more person.

Cheng Xun was left with no rebuttal. Fortunately, the money he had saved from summer/winter breaks and his Grade 10 part-time jobs was enough to last a while. He was frugal in many ways; except for clothes he outgrew during his growth spurts, he saved wherever he could.

Luckily, his laggy phone could still load novels to pass the time, making his hobbies seem a bit less empty.

However, Cheng Xun’s life was indeed monotonous. When school was in session, he could play basketball with Xie Qiubai and the others, but as soon as a break hit, he was obsessed with finding part-time jobs.

After all, nothing smelled as sweet as money.

Strictly speaking, as a “proper” high schooler, Cheng Xun had no bad habits. He didn’t participate in fights unless someone was being exceptionally disgusting and forced his hand. When neighbors spoke of him, they always talked about how sensible Grandma Shen’s little Cheng Xun was.

But the main reason he never quite became “the child of someone else’s family” (the model student) was that his grades were mediocre.

One had to realize that Ninth High itself wasn’t great. Based on past data, only about half the students made it into a standard university, and even fewer made it into top-tier ones. Cheng Xun was middle-of-the-pack in his grade—good enough for a university spot, but far from “excellent.”

It wasn’t that he didn’t work hard, but a few subjects really dragged down his score. Perhaps things would improve after the Science/Arts split.

Besides, he now had an “atypical top student,” Lu Xingshu, right next to him.

Lu Xingshu, being a man of few words, naturally wouldn’t mention his past delinquent behavior like skipping class or fighting. Furthermore, his current behavior was the complete opposite of his cold face. Consequently, Cheng Xun still believed he was just a handsome, high-achieving “good boy.”

Maybe he really would have to rely on him for tutoring in the future.

He remembered another thing Xie Qiubai had mentioned that day regarding Cheng Xun’s age.

After adding Lu Xingshu on WeChat, Xie Qiubai naturally started a new topic, asking casually, Student Lu, so who’s older between you and Brother Cheng? Who calls who ‘Brother’?

Both boys froze and shared a telepathic look before Cheng Xun spoke: “According to the year on our ID cards, I should be older.”

Lu Xingshu suddenly countered, “You look younger than me.”

 Cheng Xun was puzzled. “Since when?”

His round eyes stared over. Although his expression was meant to be cool, it lacked about 80% of its intended intimidation.

Lu Xingshu glanced at him and decided to return to silence; after all, facts spoke louder than words.

Xie Qiubai also nodded in agreement. After receiving a glare, he added cheerfully, “Anyway, Xun-ge doesn’t remember things from when he was little, so just go by whatever the ID says. Look, even I call him ‘Brother’.”

Lu Xingshu pursed his lips and shook his head again. “No.”

Cheng Xun was speechless. We’re the same age, why bother with ‘Brother’ this and ‘Brother’ that? Xie Qiubai, I haven’t forgotten that you only started calling me ‘Brother’ back then just to annoy me.

When they first became friends, they weren’t exactly “brotherly.”

Seeing his intentions exposed, Xie Qiubai chuckled and acted as if nothing had happened. “I just got used to it. It sounds pretty smooth.”

Lu Xingshu lowered his eyes and remained silent. He felt that since Cheng Xun was a friend, calling him that was indeed strange.

One downside to sleeping on the top bunk was that charging a phone was inconvenient.

The room hadn’t been rewired, and the only outlet was above the nightstand. Cheng Xun ended up buying an extra-long charging cable, pulling it up from the bottom bunk and securing it to his bedframe.

To be honest, since they stopped having to squeeze onto one small bed, the previous awkwardness and unfamiliarity had dissipated quite a bit. Sometimes, if Cheng Xun found climbing up and down the ladder a hassle, he would just ask Lu Xingshu to grab things for him. He was becoming increasingly lazy.

Summer break ended abruptly, and they were greeted by the “miserable” atmosphere of a new semester.

There wasn’t much to do on the first day of registration besides picking up books and arranging seats. Lu Xingshu, however, had to go collect a few sets of school uniforms.

The Grade 11 homeroom teacher was a math teacher with a receding hairline. Cheng Xun had heard of him back in Grade 10. He was famous for the volume of his voice when scolding students, though his temper was actually quite decent.

Upon entering, Cheng Xun and Lu Xingshu found random seats. They figured they’d be rearranged by height later anyway.

Their heights weren’t much different. When lining up, both instinctively stayed toward the back. When they followed the line into the classroom to take seats, it just so happened that they ended up in the very last row on the far left by the window.

He left the actual window seat to Lu Xingshu and sat on the aisle side.

There weren’t many familiar faces in the class. Cheng Xun felt like he didn’t recognize anyone.

After receiving his books, he began tidying his desk with practiced ease—washing the rag, wiping the surface, and cleaning the inside of the desk in one go. Fortunately, he didn’t see anything he shouldn’t have.

Cheng Xun was afraid of bugs.

This was one of his few weaknesses. Lu Xingshu had had the “honor” of seeing this boy—who usually looked like he didn’t care about anything—leap two meters away upon seeing a cockroach.

The guy only dared to run over and “cremate the corpse” after Lu Xingshu had dealt with the giant roach.

“You have no idea how terrifying southern cockroaches are!” Cheng Xun had said.

I’m also from the south,” Lu Xingshu had intended to stay silent but finally couldn’t help himself.

Cheng Xun: “…” “Oh.” Sorry for forgetting that little detail.

After the seating was finalized, Lu Xingshu quietly organized his things. In no time, a stack of books was neatly piled on his desk. He seemed to have a bit of OCD; even the inside of his desk was meticulously arranged, quite unlike Cheng Xun’s “orderly chaos.”

Seeing him finish, Cheng Xun watched him with a hint of envy. He looked from the textbooks on Lu Xingshu’s desk all the way to his well-defined right hand.

“Do you want me to help you organize yours?” Lu Xingshu asked, finally annoyed by the staring.

Cheng Xun blinked, taking the mile after being given an inch. “That would be great! Since you’re being so proactive, I won’t be shy.”

As soon as he finished, he stood up, ready to swap seats with Lu Xingshu.

Lu Xingshu: “…”

Despite his speechlessness, he honestly sat down and helped Cheng Xun organize. He categorized them by subject, paired them with notebooks, and moved frequently used items to the desktop. Soon, Cheng Xun’s desk looked brand new.

There were two rows of lockers at the back of the classroom—one for each student. Each student got their own key, and what they put inside was up to them.

This building was relatively new, and the classroom layout was modeled after high schools in the city, including some decent amenities.

Once they finished their respective class meetings, the homeroom teacher selected a few key class officers.

Homeroom teacher “Old Ma” was an interesting person. Instead of appointing the student with the best grades as the Class Monitor, he took various factors into account and asked for self-nominations.

Cheng Xun had always avoided being a class officer like the plague. To his surprise, Lu Xingshu shared the same sentiment. It seemed Lu Xingshu also hated trouble and preferred to have zero presence in the class.

After the candidates finished their speeches, the teacher held a formal anonymous vote. Cheng Xun randomly voted for a girl; she seemed confident, and her speech was practical.

Unfortunately, he didn’t guess correctly. The Class Monitor ended up being a boy whose speech was apparently very likable. The other candidates were assigned different positions.

There were no formal classes on registration day. After the morning session, the school dismissed them to go home.