You Like The Smart Ones? You Should Have Said So Sooner! - Chapter 3

Chapter 3: I Didn’t Love You When I Loved You

Amidst the stirred-up whispers of the girls nearby, Qin Mian cocked an eyebrow provocatively at Song Ying.

He leaned back lazily against his chair, taking his sweet time watching Song Ying walk toward him. It didn’t matter; he didn’t care anymore. If he could annoy Song Ying, that was a beautiful thing in itself.

“Crap, crap! Another hottie!” “Two handsome guys sitting together—what kind of god-tier visual is this?!” “Ahhh, this is so easy on the eyes!”

The surrounding girls watched expectantly as the class’s two “visual gods” converged. Although Qin Mian looked like someone you shouldn’t mess with, he was undeniably handsome. The world always has a higher tolerance for people with high face cards.

However, just two steps away from the empty seat, Song Ying suddenly stopped.

The boy whom Qin Mian had previously asked to switch seats with thought: Wait? Why do I have a bad feeling about this?

Sure enough, a second later, Song Ying spoke politely: “Hello, classmate. Could you switch seats with the empty desk behind you?”

The boy replied, “Uh, no.”

Once bitten, twice shy; this time, the boy refused quite decisively. He had already stood his ground against Qin Mian’s “stink face,” so Song Ying was no different.

The surrounding students silently exchanged gossipy glances. Having been nurtured by the observational skills of neighborhood aunties for years, their “gossip scent” was as sharp as a police dog’s. Their intuition told them there was “melon” (drama) between these two handsome guys.

The way they reacted made it obvious they knew each other—or rather, they had a grudge. Some of the girls were already hallucinating a melodramatic plot: I didn’t love you when you loved me, you don’t love me now that I love you; later I ran and you chased, I drove you away and you flew; a love-hate relationship where one said something harsh, leading to a cold war where they avoid each other at all costs. Their faces were flushed with excitement.

“Tsk,” Qin Mian seized the moment to twist the knife. “Student Song, looks like your popularity is pretty trash. Not a single person wants to switch seats with you.”

The bystanders: “……”

They were silent. They were speechless. They wanted to say: Bro, do you not remember that you were just rejected too?

But they didn’t dare. Qin Mian didn’t look like the type who would let people talk behind his back.

Song Ying remained silent for a moment, locking eyes with Qin Mian. Seeing the playful mockery in the latter’s eyes, Song Ying had an ominous premonition. He watched Song Ying warily, only to hear Song Ying say with that infuriatingly calm face:

“Yeah, not as popular as you, and definitely not as thick-skinned. To be rejected and still stand there making sarcastic remarks.”

Qin Mian: “……”

So, Song Ying knew he had been rejected.

“How did you know I got rejected? Were you standing at the door the whole time?” Qin Mian questioned suspiciously.

Song Ying said calmly, “I wasn’t. I guessed.”

Qin Mian arrived before him. For an empty seat to be left right in front of him, it meant no one was willing to move. Song Ying blinked innocently. “Oh? So you really were rejected? Then it seems your popularity isn’t much better either.”

Qin Mian gritted his teeth. “……”

Dammit, he fell for the trap.

Ding Zi (the teacher) arrived just in time to stop Qin Mian’s urge to hit someone. He stood on the podium and began the standard introductory speech and “soul-cleansing” motivational talk for the repeaters’ class.

Qin Mian slumped boredly onto his desk, staring at the familiar scenery outside the window with a bit of silent sentimentality. Three years. He thought he was about to “land on shore” and escape this life, but after all that circling, he was back at No. 2 High School.

Qin Mian’s restless gaze drifted around, finally landing on the back of Song Ying’s head. He pondered for a moment, suddenly feeling that the back of Song Ying’s head looked familiar. He felt like he had seen it somewhere before, but even after staring intensely enough to burn a hole through him, he couldn’t remember where.

Just then, the black hair in his vision moved, replaced by a pair of cold eyes.

Song Ying: “Have you seen enough?”

“Holy crap, do you have eyes in the back of your head?” Qin Mian was shocked. How did he know he was staring?

Song Ying ignored him, turning back to give Qin Mian a cold shoulder (and back of the head).

Qin Mian: Tsk, who cares.

But Qin Mian kept thinking about it for a long while and still couldn’t recall. Torn between his dignity and curiosity, curiosity actually won. He grabbed a pen and “casually” poked Song Ying’s back.

Song Ying didn’t budge. Qin Mian poked him again. Song Ying still didn’t budge.

Heh— Qin Mian didn’t believe it. He poked again, but this time his hand slipped and he poked Song Ying’s waist.

A split second later, Qin Mian heard a sharp intake of breath. He looked up to meet Song Ying’s icy glare.

Song Ying: “Are you sick?” (Are you crazy?)

“Sorry.” Qin Mian didn’t hesitate when it was time to apologize. He didn’t waste words and asked directly, “Hey, have we met before? You look familiar.”

For some reason, Song Ying looked at him as if he were an idiot. Qin Mian endured it. Finally, after a long pause, the other party dropped a single phrase: “Dumbass.”

Qin Mian was stunned. “…Do you have any manners at all?” He was speaking nicely to Song Ying, and this was the attitude he got?

Song Ying replied coldly, “You’re the one with great manners.” Poking me for ages just to ask something so irrelevant.

Nearby classmates: “……Neither of you has manners.”

“I’m asking for real. Have we met somewhere?” Qin Mian exhausted the last of his patience.

Song Ying thought he was just being erratic and sneered, “Yeah, we met. At the police station. I invited you there for ‘tea’ not too long ago. Forgotten so soon?”

Qin Mian suddenly went quiet, his face turning as black as the bottom of a pot. He hissed through gritted teeth, “You actually dare to bring that up?”

Song Ying met him head-on: “Why wouldn’t I? I wasn’t the one drinking tea (being interrogated).”

“I told you, I was acting as a hero! It was you who couldn’t tell right from wrong and sent me in without a word!”

Song Ying gave him a cold glance that clearly said: Do I look like I believe you?

For the first time, Qin Mian felt what it was like to have his chest ache from pure rage.

Up on the podium, Ding Zi couldn’t take it anymore. Whenever he said a sentence, Song Ying would say one. When he said another, Qin Mian would chime in.

“You two in the back, quiet down! Since you have so much to say, why don’t you both come up here and speak?”

Qin Mian and Song Ying instantly shut up. It didn’t matter if they had to speak, but if they had to do it together, they’d rather die.

Watching these two “elementary schoolers” bicker, Ding Zi started to doubt the information he received during the staff meeting.

This year, Qin Mian had ranked in the top 100 of the province, bringing great prestige to No. 2 High School. The school leadership was trying to replicate that glory in next year’s Gaokao. After analyzing the current crop of students, they found the usual lack of exceptional talent—Qin Mian was a total outlier.

Finally, the leadership turned their eyes to the repeaters’ class and found a “diamond in the rough”: Song Ying.

According to the school’s records, Song Ying’s alma mater was Linjiang No. 2 High School—one of the top high schools in the country with an extremely high university placement rate. Basically, anyone who got in there was a top-tier student anywhere else.

However, “basically” isn’t “absolutely,” so it wasn’t certain which category Song Ying fell into. No. 2 High School had checked Song Ying’s scores for this year’s Gaokao, but the result was “no score.”

The school leadership was now waiting for the first monthly exam to see if they had placed the right bet on Song Ying.

Ding Zi felt a mountain of pressure. What kind of reputable school relies on gambling for its grades?