After school that afternoon, Sheng Xia had some time after eating, so she went browsing at a nearby stationery store.

She loved buying all kinds of stationery – she preferred 0.38mm pens and collected not just red, blue, and black ink, but also the complete Morandi color series. The pen bodies had to be pretty. She needed separate notebooks for each subject, different colored sticky notes for different subjects, and if there was a collaboration series she liked, she’d save up to buy it even if it meant being frugal with other things.

Perhaps sensing she was a serious stationery enthusiast, the shop owner thoughtfully gave her a basket, which was indeed quickly filled to the brim.

For the new semester, she also needed to buy new wrapping paper for book covers – they had to be from the same series but each with its characteristics.

Sheng Xia crouched beside the wrapping paper barrel, carefully selecting pieces.

“Hey, Zhang Shu, got more good stuff to sell me?” the owner’s voice came from the doorway, calling a name she knew well.

Sheng Xia instinctively turned her head. Through the gap in the stationery shelves facing the door, she could see the boy’s already tall figure looking even more elongated in the narrow view.

Zhang Shu walked in backlit, one hand in his pocket. The scorching evening wind tousled his bangs, which caught the glow of sunset.

His unremarkable schoolbag hung off one shoulder as he pulled out some notebooks to hand to the owner.

She couldn’t see what notebooks they were from her blind spot but heard him chuckle softly, “Chemistry and Physics ones. See if they’re okay?”

“Ha! How could your notebooks not be good, Zhang Shu? The math ones are selling great. Same price as before – if the first batch of copies sells out, I’ll increase it.”

“Deal.”

Several hundred yuan bills appeared in her view. Sheng Xia couldn’t make out the exact amount, but it was at least several hundred.

The boy took the money, flicking the crisp new bills with his fingernail. Head lowered, the corner of his mouth twisted in what seemed a self-mocking smile, his expression unlike his usual casual demeanor.

It was this lowered angle that made him seem to sense something, suddenly looking in Sheng Xia’s direction.

Whether from heightened danger awareness or experience, Sheng Xia had already turned away before their eyes could meet.

With the stationery shelves blocking the view, surely… he hadn’t seen her?

What cruel fate kept making her witness his affairs?

Though Sheng Xia hadn’t interacted much with boys, she knew some of their “code words.”

Back at No. 2 High School where discipline wasn’t as strict, some boys were rough types with street smarts, openly using crude language in class without regard for the girls present.

Those folders on their computers labeled “Chemistry Homework,” “Physics Practice,” “Math Tests,” and “Study Guide” were never actual study materials.

She couldn’t imagine what study materials would cost several hundred yuan.

Unless what they were trading was what she’d seen in his bag that day.

The thought sent chills down her spine – were they copying and selling *that* kind of thing?

This was illegal – no, this was criminal.

The rising panic made her forehead and neck break out in cold sweat.

And she still hadn’t heard his footsteps leaving.

The owner’s voice reached her ears again: “Want to buy some pens? Pick what you like, my treat.”

Pens…

The gel pen rack was right behind Sheng Xia…

She realized her hand was trembling.

A few seconds passed before the boy’s amused voice came: “Won’t take advantage of your generosity. I’m off.”

Owner: “No need to be so polite with me!”

“Leaving.” His tone was somewhat light.

Sheng Xia heard Zhang Shu’s footsteps fade away before realizing her legs had gone numb. She’d lost interest in shopping and just grabbed a few passable rolls of paper to check out.

The owner was just hiding that notebook under the counter…

Then smiled warmly while ringing her up, acting completely normal.

When she got back to the classroom, she found Zhang Shu was already there, with a boy asking him about a problem. He was working out the solution on scratch paper with his pen, and then explaining it.

The boy noticed Sheng Xia standing at the back door and politely made way, thinking he was blocking her. It was then that Zhang Shu glanced up at her.

It was the kind of reflexive glance one gives when interrupted by a passerby before he continued explaining the problem.

His voice remained lazy as ever, his manner as casual as always.

Acting completely normal.

She was the only one affected.

Sheng Xia’s mind was filled with thoughts like “he saw me,” and “Did he see me?” “Will he hold a grudge?” “Will he corner me somewhere to teach me a lesson?” – as if she was the one who’d done something wrong.

After the boy asking questions left and the aisle cleared, Sheng Xia suddenly felt exposed, convinced he was constantly glancing at her, intentionally or not.

But she wasn’t sure and didn’t dare turn to check. She could only try to distract herself with crafts.

She cut the wrapping paper to match her textbook sizes, gave each book a new cover, carefully folded and crimped the edges, drew frames around the borders, made 3D labels on the spines showing the subjects, stacked them neatly by color, and then arranging her new mini desk calendar and crystal pen holder nearby.

When everything was done, she cleaned up the paper scraps, leaving only the coordinated books and stationery on her clean desk – a sight that brought peace of mind.

“Wow, Xia Xia, your book covers are amazing!” Xin Xiaohe exclaimed as soon as she entered the classroom.

Sheng Xia felt accomplished: “Really?”

Xin Xiaohe was generous with praise: “They’re so beautiful, I’m super jealous – is this what a fairy’s desk looks like?”

Sheng Xia was delighted. “Want me to help you wrap yours?”

Xin Xiaohe was touched: “Really?”

“Mm.” Sheng Xia nodded.

Xin Xiaohe’s round eyes sparkled: “That would make me so happy!”

Just then Yang Linyu and Hou Junqi entered one after another. Yang Linyu stirred up trouble as usual: “Such refined things don’t suit you, Xin Xiaohe.”

Hou Junqi also laughed, picking up a Chinese textbook wrapped in floral paper with gilded edges that made it look like a vintage oil painting. “Indeed, it’s too girly, doesn’t suit you, Old Xin.”

“Do you live by the sea? Why do you care so much about everything? I like it, so I want it,” Xin Xiaohe said carelessly, her gaze falling on the crystal pen holder full of fancy gel pens. “Xia Xia, you rich girl – Elsa, Belle, Alice, Barbara! What a luxurious collection!”

Yang Linyu: “What’s that long string of nonsense?”

No one paid attention to him.

Sheng Xia felt a bit embarrassed.

She’d originally planned to choose carefully and make decisions at checkout, but being so rattled earlier, she’d forgotten to sort through them and just paid for the whole basket – over 300 yuan worth of stationery.

It hurt her wallet too.

“Well, the early bird catches the worm,” Sheng Xia changed the subject, “There must be lots of homework, I need some motivation.”

Xin Xiaohe said: “With such nice pens, you definitely won’t be at the bottom next time!”

Sheng Xia: “…” That didn’t need mentioning.

Yang Linyu: “Pfft!”

Hou Junqi: “Hahahahaha you’re such a social genius.”

Realizing her words were inappropriate, Xin Xiaohe quickly tried to save them: “Xia Xia has a methodology – to do good work, one must first sharpen their tools!”

A snort of laughter came from the right, very soft, but Sheng Xia heard it.

Then that person who always seemed uninvolved stretched in his chair and suddenly joined in: “Isn’t that just saying poor students have lots of stationery?”

Xin Xiaohe: “…”

Yang Linyu: “…”

Hou Junqi: “Hahahahahahaha Zhang Shu you’re socially brutal!”

Sheng Xia: “…”

This seemed to be the first time Zhang Shu had spoken to her.

Though he wasn’t speaking directly to her, just joining the conversation, alarm bells went off in Sheng Xia’s mind: he must have seen her.

He was already starting his revenge.

The evening study bell rang during Sheng Xia’s panic, and she quickly forgot about being afraid of Zhang Shu because there was something more terrifying to fear –

At some point, the blackboard had been filled with dense rows of homework assignments.

Sheng Xia finally understood why being a subject representative was so competitive – you could say half the nightly homework load for each subject depended on the representative.

Teachers would tell the subject representatives the homework requirements for the night, and the representatives could adjust their subject’s workload based on other subjects’ assignments that night. It was a position with influence.

Xin Xiaohe said: “It’s just the start of school, this isn’t much yet. Later when all subjects get into full swing, the subject representatives have to fight for blackboard space, or there won’t be enough room to write it all.”

Sheng Xia was stunned – this wasn’t considered much.

Mathematics: August 5th

1. “Complete Textbook Analysis” p1-3

2. “In-Class Practice” ALL of today’s!!

3. Last semester’s final exam corrections, error collection [HAVE]

4. “Speed Training Method” p1-2

5. “Master No.1” p1-5

6. Preview: textbook p10-22, example problems

Just the math alone would probably take her all evening.

Then there was Chinese, Physics…

Even English and Chemistry, which they hadn’t had classes for today, joined in.

Sheng Xia: “How- how can anyone finish all this?”

Her excuse for stationery shopping had suddenly become a reality.

Zhang Shu spoke without looking up from his work: “Use Barbara the Little Witch’s crystal pen to finish it.”

Sheng Xia:?

Why did he keep joining conversations today?

He must have seen her.

Xin Xiaohe pushed past Sheng Xia and retorted: “What Little Witch nonsense, they’re Disney Princesses, okay?”

Zhang Shu looked up, and adjusted his glasses with an indifferent expression: “Mm, if you think there’s a difference.”

With the big shots facing off, Sheng Xia chose silence as golden.

Xin Xiaohe patted her shoulder: “Don’t worry, almost no one can finish all the homework. Just stay calm and don’t get anxious.”

Sheng Xia held onto hope: “Almost?”

“Yeah,” Xin Xiaohe jerked her chin, with a look of reluctant acknowledgment, indicating to the right, “that guy can finish it.”

He was already working on after-class exercises during class, paying attention when the teacher covered key points, and doing problems on his own during slower moments. Not everyone could multitask like this.

It couldn’t be learned either.

Sheng Xia asked: “Don’t teachers check?”

Xin Xiaohe shrugged: “How would they have that much energy to check? Homework isn’t for teachers anyway. If you feel weak in a subject, do more of that subject’s homework. They assign what they assign, just providing practice guidelines – it’s up to you to judge what you need to strengthen.

The evening study period doesn’t allow teaching precisely so you can absorb things yourself.”

This was vastly different from Sheng Xia’s understanding. She’d thought teachers at the affiliated school would be very strict, breathing down students’ necks, but it turned out to be this semi-self-study model.

If students had been learning this way since freshman year, it was a process of self-understanding and self-improvement.

What they gained was not fish, but how to fish.

Once this self-directed learning ability was developed, its impact would undoubtedly be lifelong, especially in university where the gap with peers would become huge.

Right now, Sheng Xia is that “peer.”

After receiving a “move one step after each push” style of education for over a decade, suddenly switching to self-directed learning left her lost.

She stared at the blackboard full of assignments for a long while, not knowing where to start, unable to distinguish which assignments were important and which were secondary. To avoid dampening her study motivation, she started with her strengths in Chinese and English, but after reviewing some classical Chinese, copying down essay materials, and memorizing some vocabulary, one period was gone. The second period only allowed her to complete half the math exercises.

Finally, she took the remaining homework home to burn the midnight oil.

Wang Lianhua made her a cup of hot milk without saying much, only reminding Sheng Xia it was time for bed when she saw the desk lamp still on at 11:30.

Before sleep, she checked her phone. The WeChat chat remained quiet as ever – Sheng Bookkeeper hadn’t replied, though he had called once, which she naturally hadn’t caught.

She was about to put down her phone and turn off the light when she suddenly thought of something and opened her browser to search: “Is it criminal to copy and sell **** books…”

…

Over the next week, Sheng Xia kept adapting to the new school, constantly refreshing her understanding of the affiliated school.

The school’s overall management was very “loose” – no closed campus during non-teaching hours, boarding students could freely come and go, students could bring phones and even computers, student clubs were allowed to develop and received funding support, they even held “May Fourth Festival” performances giving various clubs chances to showcase themselves. The Drama Club, Anime Club, and Literature Club were all somewhat famous, though seniors had to quit clubs – Xin Xiaohe had just left the Anime Club, and she’d heard Zhang Shu used to be in the Music Club.

Most amazingly, monthly tests and mock exams had no strict closed-book policy or proctoring – they just moved two rows of seats to the corridor, spread out the remaining seats, didn’t even clear away books, and tested like that. You could cheat if you wanted to. But everyone knew tests were for finding problems – cheating would be looked down upon, so no one bothered with such self-deception.

It would all come out in the final exam anyway.

Take Hou Junqi for example – he once copied Zhang Shu and checked his phone for his dad’s thousand-yuan reward, got fifteenth in class, but no one except himself acknowledged that ranking. People ranking after fifteen would automatically move up one place when stating their positions.

Hou Junqi himself said he felt like a walking corpse during that time, completely drained.

Everyone knew exactly where they stood.

Every night, Sheng Xia would take unfinished homework home, staying up until exhausted but still unable to complete it.

But in Wang Lianhua’s eyes, this became proof that she’d finally woken up – the affiliated school was amazing, making her so motivated so quickly.

What could she say?

She didn’t want to be the poor student with lots of stationery.