You Like The Smart Ones? You Should Have Said So Sooner! - Chapter 7

Chapter 7: I Just Don’t Trust My Own Acting

Song Ying practically levitated out of bed, lunged for the door, crossed the hall, and pounded on the opposite door.

Tsk.” Inside, Qin Mian, whose peaceful slumber had been violated, irritably raised a hand to cover his eyes.

The knocking continued.

Qin Mian: “……” Who the hell knocks on someone’s door this early in the morning? Do they want to die?!

Qin Mian rolled out of bed aggressively, his slippers slapping against the floor as he yanked the door open. His eyelids drooped heavily, and he was radiating pure malice. “Who is it?!”

Song Ying stared silently at Qin Mian, whose hair was sticking up toward the heavens, and spoke slowly: “Weren’t we… supposed to do something this morning?”

Qin Mian stared at Song Ying, his brain momentarily stalled. A second later, the memories flooded back, and he snapped awake. The malice instantly evaporated.

“…What time is it?” Qin Mian asked, clinging to a shred of hope.

Song Ying offered “comfort”: “A little past seven. It’s fine.”

Qin Mian: “……” Fine, my ass. Class started at 7:30.

What followed was a blur of the fastest dressing, washing, makeup application, and breakfast-buying in human history, followed by a full-on sprint to school.

When they finally reached the back door of Class 18, panting and clutching the doorframe, it was 7:29 AM. Qin Mian immediately collapsed onto his desk, more dead than alive. For someone used to sleeping by 11:00 PM at the latest, sleeping at midnight and waking up at seven was just too “advanced.”

Throughout the day, Qin Mian felt so sleepy he was practically hovering. His eyelids were like hermits—they just refused to come out and open up.

Eventually, Ding Zi couldn’t take it anymore. The sight of Qin Mian struggling to keep his eyes open, his face contorting in the process, was actually getting a bit scary.

“Qin Mian, if you really can’t handle it, just put your head down for a bit.”

The words had barely left the teacher’s mouth when Qin Mian’s head dropped. He was out.

Ding Zi: “……” First time he’s ever been that obedient. What kind of shady business was he up to last night?

By the time Qin Mian woke up feeling refreshed, he had already missed lunch. Song Ying, looking radiant and energetic, turned around and placed a packed lunch on his desk.

Qin Mian studied his front-desk mate with disbelief. “Are you… the same species as me?” How was it that only he looked like a hot mess from the lack of sleep?

“I’m used to it. My biological clock is just like that,” Song Ying said nonchalantly. If anything, he had slept better because he hadn’t had any dreams.

Qin Mian was baffled; Qin Mian was shocked. Respect species diversity, I guess.

Song Ying pushed the lunch box forward, interrupting his wild imagination. “Eat quickly, or it’ll get cold.”

As soon as Qin Mian opened the container, a familiar aroma wafted out—the same dishes from last night.

“I didn’t know what else you liked, so I stuck with these three,” Song Ying explained as he watched Qin Mian dig in.

Qin Mian didn’t hesitate to give his front-desk mate a cool “thumbs up.” Song Ying smiled, and it was a very handsome smile.

Beside them, Yu Canxing watched this with absolute amazement. Didn’t these two used to either ignore each other or start sniping the moment they opened their mouths? How did a single night lead to a 720-degree transformation? Especially Song Ying—he actually brought back food for his back-desk mate. What kind of revolutionary friendship was this?

Thinking this, Yu Canxing complained to his own front-desk mate: “Look at them. He even gets food for the guy behind him.”

Ye Jun: “……You’re sick. If you want to eat, go get it yourself. It’s not like your legs are broken.”

After Qin Mian finished resting, he asked Song Ying for the test paper from the night before. He wanted to carefully analyze it to see exactly where Song Ying’s math level sat.

Song Ying silently handed over the nameless exam. In reality, that paper wasn’t his. It belonged to Li Zhixun, the son of the restaurant’s proprietress, who was also a senior in high school. The lady had heard Song Ying’s grades were good, so she asked him to tutor her son after work. Those red ‘X’s on the paper had been personally marked by Song Ying.

He knew exactly how bad the level was. Trying to fix it would be harder than Goddess Nuwa mending the heavens.

Song Ying suddenly regretted agreeing to Qin Mian’s deal. He stared at Qin Mian’s hand holding the paper and swallowed hard.

Qin Mian glanced at him and added calmly, “Don’t be nervous. I don’t eat people.”

Song Ying: “……” Thanks, now I’m more nervous.

“Actually, even if you don’t tutor me in math, I can still make you dinner every day,” Song Ying tried to salvage the situation.

Qin Mian narrowed his eyes. “Do you doubt my skill? Don’t worry, I’m the real deal.”

Song Ying: “……I believe you.” I just don’t believe in my own acting skills.

In the end, they reached an agreement: after school, Song Ying would go to Qin Mian’s place to cook. Then, after Song Ying went home at 10:00 PM, Qin Mian would go over to Song Ying’s place for an hour of math tutoring.

“Oh, by the way, I asked you before—you really look familiar,” Qin Mian brought up the old topic again. “Are you sure we haven’t met?”

Song Ying was confused. “Have we?” He really had no memory of it, and he had never been to Dong’an City before this. Qin Mian frowned, still unable to place it.

At school, Qin Mian would use his free time to tutor Song Ying. In his eyes, Song Ying’s mathematical gaps were so massive that they required constant attention.

This behavior seemed exceptionally friendly to the other students. Qin Mian’s reputation as a provincial top-100 student was already legendary, but now his image as a helpful classmate was becoming deeply rooted. The “untouchable, cold-faced little prince” persona was fading away.

During a break, while Qin Mian was working through a physics problem, a girl’s timid voice spoke up. He looked up to see Jiang Mengqian, a shy girl with very little “presence” in class.

“Is something wrong, Student Jiang?” Qin Mian asked politely.

A spark of brightness flashed in Jiang Mengqian’s eyes. Her cheeks were flushed, and her voice was low: “Student Qin… could I… ask you a question about a problem?”

Qin Mian nodded. “Sure, which one?”

The girl visibly relaxed. Qin Mian’s easygoing attitude made her less stiff. “It’s the one the teacher talked about today…” She laid out her book and pointed to a math problem.

Qin Mian scanned it and grasped her issue immediately. “For this one, just use L’Hôpital’s rule…” He was concise and organized, pointing out the underlying principles and even providing similar examples.

In the front, Song Ying turned his head slightly. His eyes held an irrepressible look of admiration—and a hint of affection he hadn’t even realized himself.

Qin Mian might look cold-faced, but he was actually very easy to talk to and answered every question. He was also observant; he could already name everyone in the class. To help Song Ying with math, the knowledge frameworks he drew up were meticulous and clear—certainly better than the way Song Ying taught Li Zhixun.

Song Ying couldn’t help but recall the scenes of Qin Mian coming over to his place every night for tutoring. Under the warm yellow light, the boy’s voice would ring out clearly. The fresh scent of body wash and the slight dampness from a post-shower Qin Mian always lingered near Song Ying’s nose. Every so often, Qin Mian would look up with a serious expression and ask if he understood.

Song Ying turned back and pinched the bridge of his nose.

I’m doomed, he thought. I think I’m falling for him.