In November, Seventh High School welcomed its midterm exams.
For the students of Seventh High, exams were like battlefields, and everyone was preparing for this relatively important test. Even the usually lively Zhao Nuancheng was quietly studying.
Before dismissal, the homeroom teacher Fan Huiyin said, “The midterm exams will be held tomorrow and the day after. As students of Class 1, all other classes are watching to see how you perform. I won’t say much more, as other subject teachers have also given instructions. I’ll just mention some points to note for English. English is mostly multiple-choice, so be careful when filling in the machine-readable cards…”
She seriously went through many points to note, then told the class monitor Guan Xiaoye, “When school lets out, arrange for classmates to clean up and paste the exam number stickers.”
Because they needed to change classrooms, the desks in the classroom also had to be rearranged.
Each exam room would only seat thirty people, so almost half of the desks had to be moved to empty classrooms upstairs.
Guan Xiaoye packed her bag and came over with a stern face: “It’s the turn of the eight students in the fifth group to arrange the seats this time. Pay attention when school lets out.”
She handed the exam number stickers to Fu Wenfei: “Distribute these. I need to go home and study.”
“Someone in our group is on leave.”
“There’s nothing we can do about that. The others will have to share the work. Or you can see if anyone else is willing to help.”
Fu Wenfei was a handsome boy and the vice monitor of Class 1. His grades were much better than Guan Xiaoye’s. He nodded, his eyes revealing some disgust towards Guan Xiaoye.
Guan Xiaoye was small, thin, and rigid, like an old-fashioned person from the Republican era who had stepped out of a book. She wasn’t particularly good-looking, and after becoming class monitor, she always liked to give orders.
Fu Wenfei, being a boy, felt quite resentful in his heart.
When most of the class had left, he called the members of the fifth group to clean up. One of their group members had taken sick leave. Cleaning the classroom and moving desks was hard work, and naturally, other classmates were unwilling to help.
There were seven people left in total, including Meng Ting.
Also present were Zhao Nuancheng, Liu Xiaoyi, and Meng Ting’s deskmate Hong Hui.
First, they had to move the desks upstairs.
Zhao Nuancheng grimaced: “Oh my god, Tingting, there are thirty desks in total. With seven of us moving them, each person has to move at least four. From the second floor to the fifth floor, just thinking about it makes me crazy.”
The desks at Seventh High were heavy wood. That year, some desks had even lost their paint, looking patchy and unsightly.
Meng Ting was also a bit worried, but she smiled comfortingly at Zhao Nuancheng: “It’s okay, we’ll take it slow.”
The group first finished cleaning, with dust flying everywhere. Zhao Nuancheng and Meng Ting found watering cans to sprinkle water.
Liu Xiaoyi coughed a few times, fanning the air with her hand. Suddenly, her eyes brightened, and she tugged at Meng Ting.
Meng Ting turned around, and Liu Xiaoyi excitedly said, “Meng Ting, look outside. Isn’t that Fu Wenfei and Shen Yuqing?”
Fu Wenfei’s attitude was completely different from when he faced the rigid Guan Xiaoye. His delicate face was flushed as he came back to retrieve his notebook and handed it to Shen Yuqing.
Shen Yuqing smiled like a flower, saying something that made Fu Wenfei’s face turn completely red.
Liu Xiaoyi clicked her tongue: “Shen Yuqing has great charm. She’s even won over this bookworm from our class. Wasn’t Fu Wenfei quite aloof? But wasn’t Shen Yuqing’s ex-boyfriend Jiang Ren? Just a few days ago, she was still chasing after Jiang Ren, and now she’s hooked up with Fu Wenfei.”
Meng Ting shook her head with amusement. The desk-moving operation in their class had already begun.
Each girl had to move four desks.
Just thinking about this made Liu Xiaoyi lose interest in gossip. She resigned herself to picking up a desk and staggering towards the stairs.
The wooden desks were heavy. Meng Ting was panting after moving just one desk back and forth.
Her deskmate, the bespectacled Hong Hui, also looked unwell. It was too heavy, and they had to go up to the fifth floor. Even as a boy, he found it particularly strenuous and couldn’t help but complain about the group member who had taken leave.
Zhao Nuancheng was gloomy. There was no consideration for girls when it came to moving desks. There was too much work, so everyone had to pitch in.
It was mid-November, and Seventh High had been dismissed for forty minutes. Only occasional bird chirps could be heard on the campus, clear and melodious. The ginkgo leaves had turned yellow, and a few fallen leaves floated down.
When Meng Ting was moving a desk up for the second time, catching her breath after putting it down, she saw an unexpected person.
Jiang Ren was lazily leaning against the third-floor stairwell, smoking.
The wind ruffled his silver hair, carrying a faint smell of smoke.
Meng Ting didn’t know why he was there and could only pretend not to see him. She laboriously picked up the desk, intending to continue upwards.
Her figure was slender, with a kind of frailty that made people want to pity her.
He couldn’t help but smile, stubbing out his cigarette and casually tossing it into a trash can. Then he walked a few steps to her front, effortlessly taking the heavy wooden desk with one hand. Meng Ting’s hands suddenly felt light.
“Where are you taking it?”
He shouldered the desk, his demeanor relaxed, as if it did not weigh at all.
The young man’s silver hair was flamboyant, with a bit of a rascal flavor: “Speak up, good student.”
Meng Ting felt a bit flustered: “I can do it myself.”
Jiang Ren frowned: “Just stay put, will you? I see you’re going to the fifth floor, right?”
He was tall with long legs, carrying a desk as if it were a plastic bag, easily walking upstairs.
Meng Ting followed behind him.
There was a faint smell of smoke on him. Due to his irritable personality disorder, it was difficult for him to quit smoking. He would smoke to calm himself when his emotions fluctuated.
Meng Ting didn’t know why Jiang Ren would help her move desks. If someone saw them, she wouldn’t be able to explain it even with eight mouths.
When they reached the fifth floor, Jiang Ren stopped and put down the desk. A gentle breeze ruffled her hair. Seeing that he had carried it all the way up without a word, Meng Ting could only softly say, “Thank you.”
She wanted to move it into Room 508 herself and was about to bend down when Jiang Ren sneered, “Men do the work, women watch. Step aside.”
He was smart. Even though Meng Ting didn’t say which room to move to, he understood just by seeing where the empty desks were piled.
After moving one desk, Jiang Ren’s breathing wasn’t even labored. He asked her, “How many more?”
Meng Ting felt a bit anxious. She would rather move them herself.
Couldn’t Jiang Ren stay away from her?
She didn’t speak, afraid of being seen, and turned to go downstairs.
Jiang Ren laughed angrily.
Damn, ungrateful.
He grabbed her wrist, feeling its slender softness in his palm.
“Afraid of being seen? Fine, I won’t go to your classroom. I’ll wait for you at the second-floor stairwell. You bring them there.”
He tilted his chin, pointing Meng Ting to another route. Going up that way was a bit farther, but her classmates wouldn’t run into them.
“Let go of me. I can move them myself,” Meng Ting said, both embarrassed and angry, her cheeks slightly red.
The gentle November breeze softly ruffled her bangs, her soft, fair little face tinged with faint cherry blossom pink.
He smiled, unreasonably: “Don’t argue with me. I’ll wait for you there. If you don’t come, I’ll go to your classroom to find you.”
Meng Ting was almost in tears from frustration. She hadn’t done anything, hadn’t provoked him at all.
As Meng Ting went downstairs, she met Hong Hui. Hong Hui’s face was pale as he put down a desk and adjusted his glasses, panting heavily, looking like he was about to ascend to heaven from exhaustion.
He took a few steps, gasping for breath, wheezing like a bellows.
Zhao Nuancheng followed behind him. Seeing Meng Ting, she said with a dejected face: “I’m dying, I’m dying. There are still two desks left. This is simply inhuman work. My legs are shaking. Tingting, are you okay?”
Meng Ting: “…”
When she went to the classroom and was moving a desk out, she turned her head and indeed saw Jiang Ren’s figure at the other stairwell.
Meng Ting looked back. In their classroom, vice monitor Fu Wenfei was chatting and laughing with Shen Yuqing. Shen Yuqing sat at Fu Wenfei’s desk, flipping through his notebook.
Jiang Ren wasn’t joking. If she didn’t go over, he really would come.
If he came…
Tomorrow, the whole school would be buzzing with gossip about Shen Yuqing, Jiang Ren, Fu Wenfei… and herself, all mixed up in some mess.
Meng Ting gritted her teeth and had no choice but to move the desk to the stairwell.
Fine, move it if you want to, you unreasonable jerk. I hope you exhaust yourself.
Jiang Ren chuckled softly, easily shouldering the desk and walking away.
The young man had plenty of strength.
By the time he had moved both desks, his complexion hadn’t changed at all. Meanwhile, Zhao Nuancheng and the others hadn’t returned yet. The air was fresh, and black and was busily moving forward on the balcony.
Meng Ting sat on the stairs, her hands resting on her knees, feeling both ashamed and embarrassed.
Her classmates were working hard, while she…
Jiang Ren stood in front of her: “Any more?”
Meng Ting shook her head. She looked up, thinking, “Please leave quickly.” He smiled at the corner of his mouth: “How are you going to thank me, good student?”
Meng Ting thought he was so shameless.
“I didn’t ask you to move them. I could have done it myself.”
His brows furrowed, and because of his sharp eyebrows, it gave people a fierce impression: “What, not going to acknowledge it?”
She remembered Jiang Ren chasing the car and feared he might hit her.
He was unreasonable to begin with.
Meng Ting reached into her pocket.
Then she took out a five-yuan bill. She said softly, “Then let me buy you a drink.” She was always very poor, and this five yuan was all she had on her.
He looked down at the five yuan.
The hand holding it was beautiful, slender, and fair, with faint blue veins visible. It seemed so delicate that it might die if he pinched it.
“Trying to pay off a beggar with five yuan?”
Meng Ting felt a bit wronged.
What’s wrong with five yuan? It’s quite a lot. In that year, you could buy five one-yuan ice creams. Or even have a portion of dumplings.
He clicked his tongue, squatted down in front of her, and called with a smile: “Meng Ting.”
“Hm?” She looked up at him.
“I don’t want your money. Come watch me play ball after school on Friday,” he said. “Understand?”
Friday was the day of the basketball league, and all the high schools in H City would participate. Because Licai Vocational High was the largest and newest, the competition court was set up there.
Meng Ting clutched her five yuan. Was Jiang Ren so desperate for fans?
She didn’t even like watching basketball.
“I have exams on Friday.”
The smile faded from his eyes, and his tone turned cold: “Your exams will be over before the game ends. Your school is participating too.”
She looked at him questioningly.
He said, “So, you must come.”
No matter who you want to cheer for, you have to come.
Come and see how he trounces these bookworms from Seventh High.