Qingye stood at the door of Class 3(2), knocking gently. Teacher Yang Li, who was already in the classroom, turned her head upon seeing Qingye and came down from the podium to welcome her.

The previously noisy classroom suddenly fell quiet at the arrival of this unfamiliar face. Qingye walked in wearing two-toned lambskin flats, her calm gaze meeting everyone’s eyes as she turned her head, moving past curious glances until suddenly locking onto a black figure sitting in the last row.

She had always thought that although Xing Wu and Huangmao were third-year students at An Zhong, her grades wouldn’t put her in the same class as them. But she hadn’t expected the students here to be so uniformly poor in academics that there wasn’t any distinction between fast and slow classes. Even Panghu was in her class, currently grinning at her with all his teeth showing.

If she hadn’t been sure earlier whether the person on the Ninebot was Xing Wu, now seeing him in his black sportswear with his hands in his pockets, she began to wonder if the poor students at this school had special privileges or something. How could he brazenly use the teachers’ elevator? Were there any school rules at all?

Qingye gave Xing Wu a bland glance before looking away. Teacher Yang enthusiastically introduced her: “This is our new transfer student for this semester, named Qingye. In the coming academic year, she will fight alongside us in the most important battle of our lives.”

True to her role as a Chinese teacher, Teacher Yang delivered these two welcome sentences with great emotion and passion. However, the students below showed not the slightest bit of being moved. The male students erupted in whistles, waving their books, suddenly feeling their dreary third-year life becoming more colorful, while the female students collectively examined Qingye with unfriendly eyes, seeming to want to strip her bare from head to toe with their gazes.

Qingye coldly observed these rather abnormal classmates and turned to ask Teacher Yang, “Where do I sit?”

Given Qingye’s height, which wasn’t short among the girls, she should logically have sat in the back. But Teacher Yang didn’t even try to hide her favoritism, directly moving a short boy to the back and putting Qingye in the center of the front row.

The short boy reluctantly made three trips to carry all his messy belongings away. Qingye pulled out the chair, sat down at the desk, and naturally took out her laptop, immediately drawing astonished looks from all directions.

All the students were dumbfounded. Where did this transfer student come from, playing with a computer on her first day before even getting settled? How could she be so brazen? And in the front row no less – even their worst students wouldn’t dare do that.

Qingye felt the stares and looked around, suddenly realizing that in the entire classroom, she was the only one with a computer.

At her previous international school, teaching methods were more flexible. After entering high school, laptops were standard equipment for every student. Teachers would directly analyze problems through remote demonstrations, assign daily tasks, and even share teaching materials, so not bringing a computer to school was very inconvenient.

However, things were different here.

A girl next to her with glasses thicker than bottle bottoms timidly said, “Qingye, we’re not allowed to use computers in class.”

“???” Which eye had seen her “playing” with the computer? She was utterly speechless. Without computers, did they hand-copy all their study materials? Looking at the dense handwritten notebooks in front of this glasses-wearing girl named Ye Shuiqin, Qingye sighed and put away her laptop.

Meanwhile, Fang Lei, sitting a few rows back, looked displeased and turned to Li Wenhui behind her, saying, “Where’s this Qingye from? Showing off with a MacBook on the first day of school, how disgusting.”

Li Wenhui leaned across the aisle to tell her, “I heard Teacher Yang say she’s from Beijing.”

Fang Lei scoffed, “What’s so great about being from Beijing? She still has two eyes and one mouth like everyone else.”

Sitting behind Li Wenhui, Xing Wu lifted his eyelids slightly, glanced at the two of them, then lowered his gaze again and took out his phone to play Honor of Kings.

There weren’t supposed to be any formal classes on the first day back, but Old Zhu, the math teacher, came in like he was on drugs and started yelling, having the front row pass back the papers that had just been collected. He immediately barked, “You bunch of trash bins, everyone who wrote ‘5’ for Question 5 of the first major problem, stand up!”

Old Zhu had distributed these papers before summer vacation, so Qingye didn’t have one and could only observe coldly. She watched as more than half the class gradually stood up, clearly not knowing what was going on, still grinning and shoving each other.

Old Zhu suddenly roared with primordial force: “You still have the nerve to laugh! Look how many people are in the class. 58 students, and 42 standing. Have you 42 become gods? Are you photocopiers? Or do you have telepathy? How did you all manage to copy the square root as 5 with such perfect coordination? Trash bins, all of you are trash bins!”

“Hahaha…” The whole class burst into laughter as soon as he finished speaking.

Only Qingye, sitting in her seat, wiped her face, feeling like the flying spittle had given her a taste of the Amazon rainforest.

Looking at the endlessly laughing classmates around her, Qingye’s face turned green. What kind of bizarre school had she come to? The teacher up front was so angry he was about to have a heart attack, but nobody below paid him any attention. And they were howling with laughter?

Next to her, glasses-girl Ye Shuiqin saw Qingye looking around in confusion and quietly told her, “Teacher Zhu’s name is Zhu Fen.”

“…” Zhu Fen (Pig Manure)??? What a sexy name – Pig Manure calling students trash bins?

Qingye suddenly found herself smirking too, and turned back to look. Even Panghu had stood up, his huge frame squeezed between the desks in front and behind. However, the person sitting at the very back hadn’t stood up – he was looking down at his phone, fingers moving rapidly. She figured he wouldn’t stand up anyway; she’d never seen him do homework, and his room didn’t even have a pen that could write.

Old Zhu, who already had few hairs on his head, was so angered by these students that his remaining hair seemed to explode upward. Of course, it wasn’t exploding – he was just rubbing his head with a ruler because of his headache, and suddenly it all stood up. The podium was right in front of Qingye’s desk, and when she looked up and saw Old Zhu’s mad scientist appearance, she almost jumped out of her chair in fright.

But clearly, the other students in the class were much calmer than her. Everyone was used to Old Zhu’s habit of rubbing his head with a ruler, and they deeply suspected that his hair loss was the result of twenty-plus years in education, persistently and diligently rubbing his head.

Then Teacher Zhu Fen began a test paper analysis that lasted dozens of minutes, truly pouring out his heart and soul, wracking his brains, trying everything possible just to make these trash bins understand the problem-solving approach. After all, Class 2 was a science class, and although the difficulty levels were different, they shouldn’t inexplicably be left two streets behind by the liberal arts class – where would that leave his dignity?

So Teacher Zhu lectured passionately, enthusiastically, sweating profusely, explaining every question in detail, giving multiple examples, and providing various proofs.

Qingye got a headache just looking at it once. Something that could be explained in a few words was turned into a confused mess by his roundabout explanation. Even she found it difficult to follow, let alone the bunch of “trash bins” behind her.

The industrial fan overhead kept spinning, making an annoying noise. Teacher Zhu at the front was spraying saliva like a showerhead, and chaos reigned all around. The classroom had only been quiet when she first entered, and in the dozens of minutes since then, it had never quieted down. Chalkdust visibly drifted down onto her hair in large patches, and Qingye was about to lose her mind.

As soon as Old Zhu called for a break, Qingye was the first to rush out of class straight to Teacher Yang’s office to request a seat change. She really couldn’t handle this VIP seat in the class – she was certain that if she sat through another lesson if she wasn’t drowned by Old Zhu’s saliva, she’d be choked to death by chalk dust.

Of course, she wouldn’t use these reasons with Teacher Yang. Instead, she gave a very practical reason: she had mild farsightedness, and sitting in the front row made it too strenuous to see the blackboard; she needed to sit further back.

When Teacher Yang heard this, she became very concerned, asking if Qingye had been to the hospital and emphasizing how important it was to protect one’s eyesight at this age, going on about the endless sea of learning, and so on.

Then she took Qingye back to class to change seats, making the short boy move his books to the front again and arranging for Qingye to sit in the third-to-last row. The short boy had just finished arranging all his things neatly and cleaned his desk during Teacher Zhu’s lecture, and now Teacher Yang was telling him to move back – his heart collapsed like Niagara Falls cascading down.

The short boy’s desk mate burst out laughing, and because the laugh was too explosive, a string of snot sprayed out. Qingye instantly drew in a sharp breath and turned to tell Teacher Yang, “Actually, that position is still too far forward. I could move back a bit more.”

The short boy stood dumbfounded in place, not knowing whether to move or not.

Just then, Li Wenhui, sitting in the second-to-last row, raised her voice and said, “Being so picky about a seat, do you want the whole class to stand up and move for you?”

Qingye slowly turned her head, following the voice until her gaze steadily landed on Li Wenhui’s challenging face. Suddenly, a barely noticeable curve appeared at the corner of her mouth, and she pointed at Li Wenhui’s position, saying to Teacher Yang with a sincere expression, “No need to trouble everyone, I’ll sit there.”

Old Zhu had gone to the bathroom and was hurrying back. Teacher Yang quickly arranged things: “Li Wenhui, quickly pack up your things and switch places with Qingye. Don’t waste everyone’s time. After Teacher Zhu finishes going over the test paper, you’ll be dismissed. Remember to adjust your body clocks for formal classes starting the day after tomorrow.”

Li Wenhui covered her mouth, looking at Qingye in disbelief as she slightly raised her chin and returned a challenging look, nearly spitting blood.

After Teacher Yang finished arranging things and left, Li Wenhui angrily stood up, violently pushing her chair back. It hit Xing Wu’s desk with a “thud.” Xing Wu lazily raised his head to look at Li Wenhui angrily packing her things, and asked, still not understanding the situation, “Can we leave?”

Li Wenhui glanced at Xing Wu, bit her lip, and spat out four words: “I’m changing seats.”

She had been hoping Xing Wu would say something, but he just said “Oh” and went back to playing his game.

Li Wenhui angrily pulled her backpack, awkwardly carrying a pile of things forward. Passing by Fang Lei, she dropped two words: “Get her.”

Compared to Li Wenhui, Qingye only had a bag and a few newly issued books, making her move much more graceful.

She turned and walked toward the back, with everyone’s eyes on her. With each step she took, her whole being emanated a kind of confident and powerful aura. From the first time Xing Wu saw her, he had called this aura “contempt for all things,” but it was merely confidence built up from her privileged environment and excellent personal achievements since childhood. To others, she appeared like a proud white swan.

Fang Lei lowered her head to watch her steps, calculating the distance. Wasn’t she wearing a white skirt? Why not make her trip in front of the whole class and give the boys an eyeful?

As Qingye was about to pass in front of her, Fang Lei stuck out her foot. Everything happened in a flash, but Qingye’s gaze didn’t even lower slightly as she steadily stepped right on Fang Lei’s foot.

Fang Lei immediately let out a cry. Wait, this wasn’t how the script was supposed to go!

Qingye casually walked over Fang Lei’s foot to the second-to-last row, then turned back and said lightly, “Sorry about that.”

Pig Manure slapped the podium and shouted, “Fang Lei, are you slaughtering pigs? What’s with the screaming?”

The class immediately burst into laughter, and Fang Lei buried her head, feeling bitter inside.

Xing Wu was immersed in his 5v5 battle when he noticed a white shadow fall in front of him. He couldn’t help but look up at the long, slender neck of the girl in front of him.

Qingye calmly put away her books, then turned around, directly taking the blank test paper from the corner of Xing Wu’s desk and placing it in front of herself, dropping the words: “Thanks, trash.”