Wen Chengye himself had no idea that last night, he had been discussed repeatedly in the soccer team friends’ conversations.

For him, this was still an ordinary and boring day.

As usual, he arrived at school at 7 AM. When he walked into the classroom, it was already full of people.

The doors and windows were tightly closed, books spread open, test papers and workbooks scattered about.

Collecting homework, submitting homework, copying homework—there was an unpleasant smell in the classroom.

That smell reminded Wen Chengye of when he was very young, standing in front of a pork stall. It was a stuffy, humid afternoon when his family’s nanny took him to the market. A huge rack of pork ribs was laid out on the counter.

The vendor chopped down with a knife, white bone fragments splattered, and the entire space was instantly filled with the rank smell of raw meat—just like now.

Wen Chengye stood aimlessly by his desk for a while, until someone tapped him on the shoulder.

Turning around, he saw the group leader’s reddish-brown face, the color resembling the meat hanging at the stall.

“Where’s your homework?” the group leader asked.

“Forgot to bring it,” he said.

“Forgot again?” The face wrinkled together. “Why do you always forget your homework? You’ll never qualify for Outstanding Student nominations in the future.”

Wen Chengye put down his backpack, pretending to remove himself from this space, allowing the other person to chatter incessantly in his ear.

“I don’t know how you managed to improve your grades, not even submitting homework. You probably didn’t even do it…”

A rank odor drifted from the upper left. Wen Chengye looked up to see a mouth that kept opening and closing in his vision.

His hand involuntarily pressed down on the desk, finally feeling somewhat irritated.

Just when he felt he couldn’t contain himself, the other person suddenly remembered something and said, “Oh right, someone asked me to give you something.”

Wen Chengye stopped his movement. “Who?”

“It’s a dinosaur. Let me find it.” The group leader moved his caterpillar-like fingers, searching in his bulging school uniform pants pocket.

“I asked, who gave it to you?” Wen Chengye emphasized again.

“A woman who said she’s the coach of our school’s soccer team. Wait, let me find it. Eh, where did it go?”

In Wen Chengye’s mind, a smiling face involuntarily appeared.

“Oh, I put it on my desk!”

The person ran back and forth, then slapped the item on his desk.

“She said there are words inside and told you to ‘not look’!”

Wen Chengye looked at his desk in disbelief. It was indeed a dinosaur—a paper-folded, green Tyrannosaurus rex.

In the sunlight, the dinosaur was only half a palm-sized, lying on his newly distributed test paper, as if mocking something.

“Is she crazy? Why would she tell you to ‘not look’?” the group leader mumbled as he left his seat.

Wen Chengye’s mind was filled with the words “absolutely not look.” He stared hard at the green dinosaur.

He knew it was a trap and had a very certain premonition.

No matter what was written inside, he knew he shouldn’t look.

For the entire morning, Wen Chengye restrained his impulse not to unfold the dinosaur.

At first, he tucked the dinosaur into his math textbook—his most hated subject. It was as if this detestable thing could also block the aura emanating from the dinosaur.

She said, “Absolutely don’t look.”

“Don’t look!”

That phrase was like a spell. He increasingly wanted to open the math textbook, take apart the dinosaur, and see what was written inside.

After that class, he threw the dinosaur in the trash can.

But during the entire Chinese literature class that followed, he kept thinking this wasn’t right either.

Because things in the trash can wouldn’t be emptied quickly, and people would throw new items in.

If he didn’t retrieve the dinosaur, that paper and whatever was inside would remain in the classroom, remain near him.

Wen Chengye released his fist, deciding not to torment himself.

The moment the class bell rang, he stood up. The teacher said “Class dismissed,” and he walked to the back of the classroom under everyone’s gaze.

Bending down, suppressing his disgust, he picked the green dinosaur out of the trash can.

Wen Chengye walked out of the classroom and stood by the railing.

The wind was a bit cold up in the teaching building. Looking down, trees revealed bare branches, and people moved in and out, like a desolate pond with oxygen-deprived fish.

That dinosaur with its prank-like intent was gripped tightly in his hand. Wen Chengye’s hand extended over the railing—if he just let go, this damn dinosaur could be gone.

He grabbed the dinosaur’s head and tore it open from the middle. But the moment that green color peeked through his fingers, a strange sense of irritation ran from his fingertips to the top of his head.

“Don’t look.”

If he didn’t look, would he be seen as afraid?

What would that disgusting female teacher say?

“You still care about us, don’t you?”

Thinking of this, Wen Chengye’s hands moved like jade, and he unfolded the torn dinosaur.

With a “slap” sound.

The green sticky note was forcefully thrown onto the desk, where one could faintly see the complex fold marks and signs of being manhandled.

The sports equipment room, now in autumn, no longer had the electric fan running. The day was a bit cool, and the windows were tightly closed, making the room somewhat dim and oppressive.

Lin Wanxing sat at her desk and looked up to first see Wen Chengye’s cold eyes.

Describing them as merely cold wasn’t quite right. In Wen Chengye’s icy eyes, two flames were being suppressed.

In the fantasy novels Lin Wanxing read in her spare time, this phrase was often used to describe the protagonist’s hateful gaze when suppressed to the extreme.

According to the novel’s pattern, the next moment the protagonist would suddenly erupt.

So Lin Wanxing decided to move first.

She raised her hand and pointed to the other side of her desk. There sat a stool that Lin Wanxing had prepared earlier.

The chair had waited all morning for the person it was meant for.

The male student naturally didn’t obey immediately. He very stubbornly stared at the crumpled sticky note on the desk.

The “19.20.” pencil numbers on the note had faded almost completely.

And in the lower right corner of the desk, a matching green notepad had just been used a little.

Wen Chengye noticed this too. His gaze became even more solid and cold, locking onto her face.

Lin Wanxing directly met the boy’s gaze and said gently, “Please sit down.”

The boy’s fists were pressed tightly against his pant seams, but his body did not move.

Lin Wanxing was registering new equipment. Seeing that he was unwilling to sit, she lowered her head and continued with her work, casually asking him, “Have you had lunch?”

Of course, this question also received no response.

Lin Wanxing was used to it. She just continued on her own, “Looks like you haven’t. That’s understandable. Receiving something like this would certainly make you obsess over it for half a day, unable to eat or drink, right?”

With a loud “bang!”

A huge noise came from in front of the desk.

Wen Chengye dragged the chair open as if venting and sat down across from her.

After the noise, the equipment room returned to silence.

The light from the overhead incandescent bulb spread out, falling from Wen Chengye’s head to his shoulders, illuminating him in clear detail.

Lin Wanxing and her student sat on opposite sides of a desk.

This was probably the first time Lin Wanxing carefully studied Wen Chengye.

Wen Chengye was also looking at her.

Lin Wanxing didn’t speak.

The timeline moved forward slowly. From Wen Chengye’s furrowed brow and tightly drawn lips, Lin Wanxing could roughly guess what he was thinking.

Probably lines like “What do you want” or “What are you trying to do,” but however they were shouted, they wouldn’t sound vicious enough.

So Wen Chengye needed to think through his lines, and Lin Wanxing was waiting.

“What do you mean?”

Finally, Wen Chengye’s cold voice sounded.

Lin Wanxing savored this sentence and thought Wen Chengye was quite clever.

But she didn’t engage in any perfunctory exchanges with Wen Chengye, instead going straight to the point, “It’s like this—I checked your math exam paper from this monthly test. Questions 19 and 20 had their correct answers printed in reverse, and your answer sheet had the same reversed answers.”

“Teacher, I worked it out on scratch paper, and when I copied it to the answer sheet, I just happened to transpose them,” Wen Chengye said.

“Yes, I guessed you’d use that reason,” Lin Wanxing twirled the ballpoint pen in her hand and patiently guided Wen Chengye. “But I called you here to hear the truth.”

“I didn’t cheat,” Wen Chengye repeated. “I just wrote the answers in reverse.”

Lin Wanxing stared at the student’s eyes and smiled slightly.

She lowered her head, flipped to a page in her notebook, and drew a screenshot by hand.

And wrote

As shown, square ABCD is on a plane perpendicular to the plane of quadrilateral ABEF, triangle ABE is an isosceles right triangle, AB=AE, FA=FE⊥AEF=45°

1. Prove that EF is parallel to plane BCE;

2. Suppose the midpoints of line segments CD and AE are P and M respectively, proving PM is parallel to plane BCE

3. Find the size of the dihedral angle F-BD-A.

After writing the question, she stopped and pushed her notebook in front of Wen Chengye, rotating it 360 degrees. Finally, she placed her ballpoint pen in front of Wen Chengye’s fingers.

Wen Chengye raised his eyelids.

“Then solve this problem,” Lin Wanxing said.

“Why should I solve a problem you’ve given me?”

“This isn’t a problem I created,” Lin Wanxing said calmly. “This is one of the geometry problems you ‘transposed incorrectly.'”

Hearing this, Wen Chengye’s gaze froze slightly.

He looked down for a while, then obediently picked up the pen and pressed the button.

Just as he was about to write, he suddenly released his hand.

The ballpoint pen slipped through his fingers and fell to the ground with a “plop.”

Wen Chengye raised his foot and stepped on the pen.

The plastic made a teeth-grinding creak against the floor.

“Sorry, teacher, I dropped the pen,” Wen Chengye said.

Lin Wanxing said seriously, “Wen Chengye, this level won’t provoke me. I could easily take you to the Academic Affairs Office and place a blank exam identical to your last monthly test in front of you. You would have one and only one pen. At that time, would you throw away the pen like you’re doing now?”

Wen Chengye still looked at her. The mockery in the young man’s eyes had faded, but he wasn’t at the point of bewilderment yet.

The timeline continued slowly forward. The laughter of students on the playground sounded distant, as if in another space.

The equipment room was especially cold and quiet.

“Then why don’t you do that?” Wen Chengye asked in return.

“Yes, why don’t I do that? By all rights, I should report you to the school. Because cheating on exams is essentially unfair to all other students who study seriously.”

“So I ask you, why not take me to the Academic Affairs Office?” he repeated.

“I said, before I make a decision, I want to talk with you,” Lin Wanxing said.

“You’re not so disgusting that you want to reform me, are you?” Wen Chengye suddenly leaned forward, full of intimidation.

“First, I want to know, why did you cheat?” Lin Wanxing asked.

Wen Chengye was stunned, suddenly leaning back against the chair without answering.

Lin Wanxing scrutinized the young man before her. “You display an attitude of not caring about anything, but cheating shows you care very much about test results. Why do you care so much about grades?”

“Is it me who cares? It’s you who cares,” Wen Chengye said.

“Us?” Lin Wanxing paused. “You mean us teachers, parents?”

“What else?”

“So you get good grades to satisfy our demands.” Lin Wanxing said slowly. “Then you care a lot about ‘us,’ don’t you?”

Indeed, this sentence touched Wen Chengye’s reverse scale again. He once more revealed a suppressed violent expression. “Teacher, so you still haven’t answered, why not send me to the Academic Affairs Office? Do you want to reform me?”

“To say reform isn’t quite right.” Lin Wanxing leaned back and said, “I was just thinking, for a student like you, even if I took you to the Academic Affairs Office, it wouldn’t mean much, would it?”

Wen Chengye’s face showed a mocking expression.

“Imagine that scene—your parents, teachers, all called to an office, everyone surrounding you. In that situation, what would you do?”

The young man across the table’s face turned cold. Lin Wanxing continued on her own, “I think you wouldn’t speak from beginning to end because silence is the best self-protection. You’ve cheated so many times, you must have thought about what to do if caught, right?” Lin Wanxing paused and asked him, “Do you want to know what I would recommend the school do?”

Hearing this, Wen Chengye frowned.

“You can remain silent, not write a single answer. But I would suggest that the school place you in a separate room for every future exam, with a different test paper from everyone else. I can guarantee, that no matter what your cheating method is, or who provides you with exam answers, they won’t be able to get these. What would you do then?”

Lin Wanxing kept talking while constantly observing Wen Chengye’s expression.

Wen Chengye finally showed some panic.

“Please continue to imagine that scenario. Until you’re expelled for cheating, you must sit in front of one exam paper after another. Ninety minutes after ninety minutes, you can’t do anything, can’t say anything. Can you imagine such a scene?”

“What are you trying to say?” Wen Chengye finally couldn’t bear it and pushed away the chair to stand up.

“I mean, it seems quite torturous. Do you want to experience it once?” Lin Wanxing asked.

“You’re threatening me. You’re using my cheating to threaten me?!” Wen Chengye suddenly revealed a mocking smile, as if laying his cards on the table, seemingly occupying the high ground. “To put it bluntly, you just want me to go back to playing soccer, right?”

“You can certainly interpret it that way,” Lin Wanxing said very calmly. “We do need a player right now.”

The young man at the desk showed a smug expression, but Lin Wanxing didn’t look at him anymore. Instead, she tore off another green sticky note, wrote an address on it, and pushed it in front of him.

“I was hesitant at first. But talking with you until now, I suddenly realized that for a student like you, the school’s punishments don’t mean anything. None of those would make you too uncomfortable,” Lin Wanxing said.

“So what do you want? To torture me personally?” Wen Chengye sneered.

“How could that be?” Lin Wanxing smiled. “I’ve always used ‘education through love.'”