You Like The Smart Ones? You Should Have Said So Sooner! - Chapter 28

Chapter 28: Teacher Qin

Qin Mian’s voice was very slow and steady. Though his tone was naturally cool, it carried a certain sense of gentleness.

He rested one hand casually on the desk while the other used a pen to circle parts of the problem, explaining the difficult points and solutions in great detail. His posture was serious yet relaxed and effortless.

Throughout the explanation, Qin Mian was fully engaged, occasionally looking up at Jiang Mengqian to see if she was following his logic. The girl nodded frequently, listening with rapt attention.

As the explanation reached its end, a look of realization dawned on her face. She looked at Qin Mian with eyes full of shy, sincere gratitude and admiration.

Jiang Mengqian spoke softly, “Thank you, Qin Mian.”

Qin Mian blinked. “Don’t mention it.”

The girl hesitated for a moment, her expression conflicted. Then, with a mix of hesitation and hope, she spoke up: “Qin Mian, can I… add you on WeChat?”

“Sure,” Qin Mian nodded.

The girl’s eyes lit up. Shy and happy, she added Qin Mian on WeChat, thanked him again, and left.

It was a perfectly harmonious and friendly scene.

Song Ying: “……” The guys asking questions: “……” The onlookers: “……”

Why is the gap between people so large?

Noticing the gaze from the person in front of him, Qin Mian offered some calm consolation: “Everyone has their specialty. It’s normal for a top student to have things they aren’t good at.”

Song Ying couldn’t argue with that at all. He let out a helpless laugh.

Qin Mian looked at the boy who had been asking questions and pointed out his issue: “Too many gaps in your knowledge. Go find a teacher.”

This guy’s foundation was so poor that it wasn’t entirely Song Ying’s fault; even Qin Mian had felt a cold sweat on Song Ying’s behalf while listening.

Today’s smooth and vivid explanation effectively cemented Song Ying’s reputation. From that day on, aside from Qin Mian, no one else ever went to him with a question. They had successfully realized that an “Academic God” was not the same species as them—their brains simply functioned on different wavelengths.

Song Ying was happy to have the peace and quiet.

Once the crowd dispersed, Song Ying suddenly turned around and leaned closer to Qin Mian.

Qin Mian raised an eyebrow. “What? Looking for trouble?”

Song Ying stared at him without blinking, a smile suddenly dancing in his eyes. His tone was sincere: “Teacher Qin explains things so well. Could you teach me too?”

The deliberately lowered voice drifted clearly into Qin Mian’s ear. The tone was clear, moist, and tinged with a smile, sounding as if he were whispering a secret.

The title “Teacher Qin,” which seemed to carry a hint of teasing, made Qin Mian’s heart skip a few beats. A flush of crimson instantly rushed to his face.

After a long pause, Qin Mian reacted like a cat whose tail had been stepped on, his fur bristling. “What the hell are you calling me! You’re so damn good, why would you need me to teach you!?”

Song Ying gazed at his reddened face, suppressing his own disobedient smile, and said piteously:

“I just don’t know how to teach others. What if they laugh at me behind my back?” Song Ying subtly pointed toward the group that had been pestering him.

Qin Mian was amazed. “They laugh at you? If they can manage even a tiny smile after you’re done teaching them, that’s your failure.”

A sharp critique.

Song Ying choked. He had to admit, Qin Mian had hit the nail on the head.

“That’s why I want you to teach me—teach me how to teach others,” Song Ying said, deciding to be thick-skinned to the end.

Qin Mian’s hand holding his water bottle paused. His eyes flickered. “Why… why do you insist on teaching them anyway? Isn’t teaching me enough?”

Song Ying froze slightly.

Qin Mian cleared his throat and added, “I’m probably the only one who can keep up with that rocket-ship logic of yours.”

A smile rippled through his eyes as Song Ying lowered his head and laughed softly. “Fair point. Teaching you is enough.”

With that, he leisurely turned back around, his back to Qin Mian.

The sunlight outside remained brilliant. The camphor trees swayed their branches silently, and the low hum of the air conditioner droned behind them. Neither spoke again.

But inexplicably, they could both feel that the other’s attention was still fixed on them—light and itchy, yet impossible to ignore.

Qin Mian turned his gaze toward the window and slowly exhaled, trying his best to calm his pounding heart.

Back at her seat, Jiang Mengqian took a deep breath, trying to steady her trembling body. She clutched her phone and cautiously opened her chat with Qin Mian. She stared at his cool, handsome profile picture and the automated system message for a long time.

Q: I am Q.

The joy in her eyes was impossible to hide. She wanted to tap on Qin Mian’s profile picture, but because her hands were shaking, she accidentally double-tapped it.

In the next second: You “nudge” Q Note: The “pat/nudge” feature in WeChat

Instantly, Jiang Mengqian felt as if her head had exploded with a “boom.” Her heart throbbed wildly, and her face and neck turned crimson. She frantically wanted to withdraw the action, but her finger hovered over the option and suddenly stopped.

Biting her lip hard, she summoned immense courage and stole a glance in Qin Mian’s direction. She saw him talking and laughing with Song Ying, completely oblivious to his phone notifications.

Her excitement slowly leveled out. She lowered her eyes to hide her disappointment, then withdrew the “nudge” notification.

Looking at Qin Mian’s profile picture, she couldn’t help but recall the scene from the previous night.

Song Ying, having cancelled his part-time job, now had time in the evenings and had applied for evening self-study. Qin Mian, thinking he had nothing to do at home anyway, decided to join him so he could learn more. As for Li Zhixun, he could still tutor him after evening self-study ended.

On the night the results were released, Ding Zi had called the students who had regressed into his office one by one to analyze their performance. Jiang Mengqian was one of them.

“Jiang Mengqian, looking at these grades, you didn’t perform to your potential. Your Gaokao score was 593; you shouldn’t be dropping down to the 570s, right?” Ding Zi’s gaze moved from the data on his computer to the girl. “Have you run into difficulties in your studies lately? Or are there problems at home?”

The girl squeezed the palm of her hand, remaining silent. She felt ashamed of her score. Thinking of Qin Mian and Song Ying’s grades, she felt even more inferior.

Ding Zi didn’t pry further, offering comfort: “It’s okay, it’s just one exam. We still have a year.” He pointed to the scores on the screen. “Your Math, Physics, and Chemistry are dragging you down. These three are the pillars of the science track; you absolutely cannot let them slip.”

“During class or while doing problems, if there’s something you don’t understand, ask the teachers or classmates in a timely manner.” Ding Zi’s voice grew soft. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you ask a question? You don’t need to be afraid. Come to the office more often; the teachers all welcome you. Okay?”

Jiang Mengqian kept her head down, listening quietly, and gave a small nod.

“Alright, go on back. Work harder next time.” Ding Zi nodded.

The girl left the office, but instead of heading back to class, she turned and walked toward the restroom.