You Like The Smart Ones? You Should Have Said So Sooner! - Chapter 16

Chapter 16: Next Year’s Top Scholar

Teacher and student sat in silence for a long while.

“Song Ying, I was a bit harsh with my words back then. You… don’t take it to heart,” Mo Weixin said softly.

Hearing this, Song Ying quickly looked up and shook his head. “No. I never blamed you, Teacher. It was my own choice not to stay in Linjiang. I wanted a change of environment.”

He let out a sigh, stood up, and said, “The food is almost ready. Teacher, please stay and eat something.”

Mo Weixin gestured for him to stop, waving his hand. “No need. I’ll be leaving soon; your mistress is at home waiting for me for dinner.”

As he spoke, he opened his briefcase and pulled out a stack of exam papers. “Here. These are the new problems from our school’s Grade 12 teaching group, modeled after this year’s Gaokao. Take them and work on them. The educational level here in Dong’an might not be quite enough.”

Song Ying took the papers, his nose feeling a bit stingy.

“Besides math, there are some physics and chemistry problems in there. When I took them from their respective teaching groups, those old geezers were guarding them like a mother hen protects her chicks.”

Mo Weixin gestured toward the invisible physics and chemistry teachers, his tone full of mock disdain. He paused, then added: “But as soon as they heard I was giving them to you, every single one of them relented immediately. By the way—don’t let these leak out!”

Song Ying gave a helpless smile. “Thank Teacher Dai and the others for me.”

But Mo Weixin wasn’t finished. He reached into his briefcase again and pulled out an old-fashioned envelope that looked quite thick. In the next second, he shoved it directly into Song Ying’s hand. “Here. This is some living money your mistress and I put together for you. Keep it safe.”

Song Ying was startled. As if he had been burned, he hurriedly tried to push the envelope back. “How could I possibly take this?!”

“Hey, take it. You surely don’t want to touch the money your mother sends you. Since you have no source of income, you must be doing part-time jobs out here, right?” Mo Weixin shoved the envelope back again.

“The pressure on repeaters is high. Without me or your mistress to look after you, how can you study well while working a job?”

Song Ying pursed his lips. “Teacher Mo, I really can’t accept this money. I can take care of myself, and I won’t let my studies slip.”

Mo Weixin stomped his foot in feigned anger. “If you don’t take this, how am I supposed to explain it to your mistress when I get home?!”

“Besides, you say your studies won’t slip—but will they? Ask yourself, at your current pace, do you have the confidence to take the Top Scholar spot next year?”

Song Ying fell silent.

With his current study time and state, he was indeed much more squeezed for time than before. Because he went to sleep late, he arrived at school around 7:00 AM and had almost no study time after school ended at 6:00 PM.

Mo Weixin struck while the iron was hot. “I didn’t expect that brat Ji Chenxiang to actually pull it off this year. He was quite the dark horse, taking the Top Scholar title.”

At Linjiang No. 2, Ji Chenxiang and Song Ying were both students in the elite Class 1 under Mo Weixin. Their grades were excellent, but Ji Chenxiang had a flaw: he was unstable. Even a roller coaster wasn’t as erratic as him. When he was good, he could rival Song Ying; when he was bad, he almost dropped out of Class 1. Plus, the kid was constantly loud and rowdy.

Because of this, Mo Weixin had given him many legendary scoldings. It was also why Ji Chenxiang ran like a mouse seeing a cat whenever he saw the teacher.

“Don’t tell me that next year you won’t even be able to beat Ji Chenxiang, or that you can’t even bring home a Top Scholar title for me,” Mo Weixin said persuasively.

Seeing that his persuasion was working, he shoved the envelope to Song Ying one last time. “Alright, no more refusing. Study hard. I’m still teaching Grade 12 this year, and there are plenty of students with good grades in my class. Your competition is quite fierce.”

With that, Mo Weixin picked up his briefcase and prepared to leave.

Song Ying clutched the envelope, silently watching Mo Weixin’s back. After a moment, he followed him to the door and called out, “Teacher Mo!”

“Hmm?” Mo Weixin turned around.

“I’m sorry.” Song Ying’s eyes were red, his voice a bit raspy. “And… thank you. To you, and the mistress.”

Mo Weixin waved his hand dismissively. “Yeah, yeah. I’m off. Oh, and don’t forget to properly coax that little classmate of yours.”

Song Ying stood in silence, staring at Mo Weixin’s receding figure until it vanished from sight.

Only at this moment did Song Ying suddenly feel a familiar yet strange sense of loneliness. This loneliness had existed throughout the first half of his life; it had only begun to fade after he started high school and met Ji Chenxiang and Mo Weixin.

Song Ying stood dazed in the living room for a long time. Looking at the empty dining table, he finally remembered that the food he was making for Qin Mian wasn’t finished. He glanced at the tightly shut bedroom door, lowered his dejected eyes, and walked back into the kitchen to finish the stir-fry.

Halfway through, Song Ying heard the sound of a door opening. He immediately poked his head out to look. He saw Qin Mian give him a cold glance, pick up his schoolbag without a word, and return to the bedroom.

Song Ying let out a helpless sigh. He had really stirred up a hornet’s nest this time.

After the dishes were done, Song Ying went to the bedroom door. He hesitated for a long time before finally knocking. There was no sound from inside.

“The food is ready. Eat it while it’s hot.”

Song Ying assumed the person inside didn’t want to talk to him. After leaving those instructions, he departed. He planned to work his part-time job for a few more days to hand things over to the owner; he couldn’t just up and leave.

When Qin Mian opened the bedroom door, Song Ying was no longer in the living room.

“Dammit, that bastard Song Ying,” Qin Mian gritted his teeth. “Left without even saying a word.”

If he ever acknowledged Song Ying again, he was a dog.

Qin Mian had been doing an English listening set just now and hadn’t heard a thing. Seeing the house empty now, he grew even angrier.

For the next two days, he didn’t initiate a single word with Song Ying.

Beside them, Yu Canxing poked his front-desk mate and shook his head. “Those two are fighting again.”

Ye Jun glanced at him. “How do you know?”

“Easy. Last time they were bickering and sniping at each other. This time, it’s Qin Mian unilaterally ignoring Song Ying.” Yu Canxing stroked his chin like Zhuge Liang. It was too obvious. Song Ying’s aggrieved little glances were so pitiful even he felt bad.

But Qin Mian was acting like he was blind.

Song Ying had tried everything—writing small notes, helping him get water, turning around to apologize directly—but nothing worked. Qin Mian just put on his headphones and didn’t care at all.

However, what Song Ying didn’t expect was that he wouldn’t get Qin Mian’s forgiveness first, but rather those lingering thugs.

He had already agreed with the restaurant owner that tonight was his last shift. He would just return the keys the next day. But since there were quite a few customers tonight, Song Ying was busy until 10:30 PM before he finally closed up.

The road was dark as usual. Song Ying’s mind was occupied with thoughts of Qin Mian, and he failed to notice people hiding in the alley. By the time he realized, two people in front and two behind had already blocked his path. One more was acting as a lookout outside.

The leader of the thugs, Zhang Kun, took a drag of his cigarette and rudely exhaled the smoke directly into Song Ying’s face.

“Cough, cough, cough!” Song Ying was choked by the smoke and turned his face away in disgust.

Zhang Kun reached out to grab Song Ying’s chin and turn his face back. He patted his cheek and laughed arrogantly. “Oh? What’s this? Why are you alone today? Where’s that other little boy who’s so good at fighting?”

Rubbing his fingers together, Zhang Kun mused inwardly: This face is quite tender. And the injuries healed pretty fast, too.