Childish. Way too childish.
He was an adult, after all. How could he still be acting like a high schooler?
It had to be the hormones and the high school atmosphere working together, messing with his head.
What a grave sin. Sigh.
Mo Xiangwen flipped through his English textbook with some irritation, quietly reciting the contents under his breath.
“They said they saw our homeroom teacher today, and he looked like he was in a great mood,” Cai Yibin said, nudging his elbow.
“Yeah?” Mo Xiangwen glanced up, just in time to see the homeroom teacher, Xiang Ming, walk into the classroom with a stack of test papers. “Yeah, he does seem pretty happy.”
“How do you know?”
“Because Teacher Xiang is already at the podium, and that expression on his face? Anyone can tell he’s in a good mood.” Mo Xiangwen’s fingers drummed on the desk, his tone a bit impatient as he replied.
“What’s up with you? You look like you’re in a bad mood. Did you bomb the Third Mock Exam?”
“Not exactly, though that’s part of it.” Mo Xiangwen let out a soft sigh. “But that’s not the main reason.”
“So what is?”
“Don’t ask. I don’t want to talk about it.”
“It’s just the Third Mock Exam, not the real Gaokao.” Cai Yibin assumed it was poor performance and patted his shoulder consolingly. “Hey, look on the bright side. You might not have done well, but I did.”
“Get lost. Next time you have a question, go ask the teacher yourself. Don’t bug me.”
“Heh heh.”
“Quiet down, class. Time to hand out the Third Mock Exam papers.”
The homeroom teacher gripped a yellow ruler about an arm’s length long and slammed it twice against the podium with a resounding 【Crack! Crack!】.
The classroom, noisy as a bustling market, finally fell silent under those two sharp sounds.
“Once you get your papers,” the homeroom teacher said, “make sure to review the questions you got wrong and adjust your study habits accordingly.”
“Hold on to what you did well.”
“For the ones you missed, reflect on why you got them wrong. If you don’t understand, ask the classmates around you or the teacher right away.”
“Strive not to repeat those mistakes. Never mind the tough ones—grab every point from the easy and standard questions.”
“Now, we’ll start passing out the papers. Group leaders, come up.”
At his command, a few students hurried forward and took the stacks from him.
When the group leader finally reached Mo Xiangwen’s seat, he reached out to take his paper. But just as his fingers brushed it, the leader pulled it back.
Puzzled—had he grabbed the wrong one?—Mo Xiangwen watched as the leader stared at him and the paper like he’d seen a ghost, eyes darting back and forth. After a long moment, the leader reluctantly handed it over.
Mo Xiangwen took it and glanced at the top: a big red “122” scrawled across the front.
Not bad for an ordinary class. Even in the Key Class, this would count as excellent.
But scanning the whole paper, there were almost no points lost to carelessness.
He’d truly maxed out every point he could get—and still only scored this.
More bluntly, the deductions came from questions he flat-out didn’t understand.
It was a solid score, but in a way, it marked the ceiling of his current math ability.
One or two more obscure problems, and it would’ve tanked.
He’d had a pretty good idea the moment he picked it up.
One look: yep, doomed.
Several questions he’d never even seen before. How was he supposed to solve them?
Mo Xiangwen sighed lightly, folded the paper in half, and tucked it under his book. He’d copy the wrong answers into his error notebook later and redo them.
He turned to ask Cai Yibin how he’d done, only to find him grinning like a fool at his own math paper.
“So happy? What’d you get?”
As if he’d been waiting for the question, Cai Yibin answered instantly.
“Ninety points. Not too shabby.” He beamed with pride. “And that’s with me guessing a bunch of multiple-choice right.”
“Nice. Luck’s part of skill. If you get that same luck on the Gaokao, who knows—you might do even better.”
“Heh heh, thanks for the good vibes. But no need to be jealous.”
Mo Xiangwen shook his head and ignored him.
Let the guy gloat. It was fine. No need to ruin his mood—let him enjoy it.
“I wonder why the teacher didn’t read out the scores this time and make us come up ourselves,” Cai Yibin said with a hint of regret.
“The Third Mock Exam’s meant to build confidence, right? Maybe he skipped it to spare the ones who didn’t do well,” Mo Xiangwen mused aloud.
Cai Yibin paused, then nodded in agreement.
For some reason, he even patted Mo Xiangwen’s shoulder.
Crack!—the sharp sound of ruler meeting podium rang out again, silencing the class once more amid their chatter about scores and questions.
“Ahem.” The homeroom teacher cleared his throat. “Before we go over the questions, I have a few words.”
“Many students in the class made huge progress this time. That’s a great sign.”
“Keep pushing, everyone. Aim for even better on the Gaokao.”
“So, I’d like to call out a few who improved the most.”
Cai Yibin, already craning his neck, lit up. “No way…”
“Our classmate Mo Xiangwen scored 122 in math on this Third Mock Exam.”
Whoa—
The quiet classroom erupted like a stone splashing into still water, ripples spreading wildly.
As if that weren’t enough, the homeroom teacher continued, “Not only is his math the highest in the class.”
“His total score hit the Tier-2 Admission Line—higher than the Key Class average, even.”
The noise exploded beyond control.
Everyone knew each other. Who was who?
A guy who’d been failing math suddenly jumping to 120+? Top-tier territory.
How’d he solo-level like that? Total glow-up.
Big bro, this screams fake. Hard not to suspect.
“I know what you’re thinking,” the homeroom teacher said, “but Mo Xiangwen sat right here during the exam.”
He rapped his ruler on the desk in front of the podium. The student there flinched back, nearly toppling his chair.
“And I was the proctor for this room.” His voice was steady. “The whole exam happened under my watch.”
“If you think he could cheat right under my nose…”
The class exchanged uneasy glances, at a loss for words.
“Instead of doubting others, ask yourselves—”
“While Mo Xiangwen was coming to me during study hall with questions—for a full period—”
“What were you doing?”
“Goofing off? Or studying?”
“If you were studying, why not come ask me when you had questions?”
“You see his scores but not the effort behind them?”
One pointed question after another, and the room fell into dead silence.
No one wanted to dismantle the illusion—ordinary class kids didn’t grind through an entire study hall.
Who’d diligently bug the duty teacher for a full hour?
Damn, who’d have thought there was a grinder in our midst!
In an instant, Mo Xiangwen felt the whole class’s stares and resentment lock onto him.
He ducked his head, building a fortress of books to shield from the glares.
He admired standing out, sure, but the spotlight? Not his thing.
The book wall blocked their condemning eyes, forcing them to give up.
Then the homeroom teacher spoke again, drawing some heat off him.
“Our classmate Cai Yibin also showed clear improvement.”
“Don’t slack off. Keep grinding.”
Mo Xiangwen glanced over. Cai Yibin’s joy had vanished, replaced by a stunned daze.
So Mo Xiangwen nudged his arm. “That’s you he’s praising. React or something.”
Cai Yibin turned stiffly, and after a long beat, blurted, “Fuck, there’s a dog.”
…
After class, the homeroom teacher called his name, asking him to stop by the office later.
No clue why, but Mo Xiangwen agreed.
He dawdled a bit to take care of his business, then headed to the office.
The senior-year teaching building sat directly across from the teachers’ office building—the closest of them all.
When Mo Xiangwen arrived, he saw a middle-aged woman chatting with the homeroom teacher.
Her skin was dark, and she wore an outdated coarse cotton shirt. She stood awkwardly off to one side, unmoved no matter how the homeroom teacher urged her to sit down.
Mo Xiangwen hesitated for a moment before knocking on the office door and calling out, “Reporting in.” Only then did the homeroom teacher notice his arrival.
“Oh, Mo Xiangwen, you’re here.” The homeroom teacher nodded amiably toward him. “Come on in.”
Mo Xiangwen walked up to stand beside the homeroom teacher, next to the middle-aged woman, and only then did he notice how red her eyes were.
“It’s nothing major,” the homeroom teacher said, composing himself. “I mainly wanted to talk to you about your progress. With all the cramming you’ve been doing lately, your math scores are looking pretty good now.”
“My advice is to shift your study focus to English and the comprehensive sciences.”
“Those two subjects are still dragging your scores down. If you bomb even one of them, you might miss out on a second-tier university.”
As he spoke those words, the teacher’s voice took on a more upbeat tone.
“But on the flip side, those subjects have a ton of room for improvement.”
“You just need to cram the basics, and a second-tier school will be in the bag for you.”
“Got it, Teacher. I understand,” Mo Xiangwen said with a nod. “I’ll make the switch as soon as I get back.”
“Good. Keep up the good work.” The homeroom teacher seemed pleased with his attitude. “That’s all for now—head back and hit the books.”
Mo Xiangwen stepped out of the office, intending to return to the classroom, when he spotted Liao Feiyang squatting on the lawn outside the office building.
Liao Feiyang’s face looked awful. He kept idly plucking at the grass.
In light of their wonton noodle delivery favor, Mo Xiangwen decided to check in on his classmate.
“What’s wrong?”
Liao Feiyang glanced up at him, then lowered his head and continued fiddling with a clump of grass roots he’d dug up.
“Didn’t do well on the test. They called my parents. You were just in the office, right? That woman inside is my mom.”
“Because of the wall-scaling incident?”
“Yeah.” Liao Feiyang let out a sigh. “I figured I’d get chewed out at worst, and that’s no big deal.”
“If it’s no big deal, then why the long face?”
“Getting yelled at is whatever—Mom, the teacher, I’m used to it.” Liao Feiyang’s voice grew even quieter. “But Mom cried.”
Mo Xiangwen was at a loss for words.
He vaguely remembered something similar from his own past. He couldn’t recall the details, but he’d definitely made his own mom cry once.
“I can’t stand it when Mom cries.” Liao Feiyang seemed lost in memory for a moment before continuing. “I remember the last time she cried was when my old dad—you know, the one with the crippled left hand who can’t even do farm work—said he was heading out of province to earn money for us.”
“She didn’t make a sound. She just sat in her room wiping away tears by herself.”
“She didn’t know I was peeking through the door crack from the hallway.”
“Now here she is, dragged to the school office because of me.”
“I know Mom’s a proud woman, all about saving face.”
“Getting called in because her son snuck over the wall to go cyber-cafe all night? That’s humiliating for her.”
“I figured she’d hit me or yell, but she barely said two words before the tears started.”
Liao Feiyang gazed up at the sky and let out a long breath. “Mo Xiangwen, tell me—am I a rotten son?”
Mo Xiangwen was tempted to say yes, he was.
But what about himself? With the Gaokao right around the corner, hadn’t he done the exact same thing—scaling walls to pull all-nighters at the cyber-cafe?
Fine, he was a rotten son too.
Getting called rotten didn’t matter, but would it help now?
Mo Xiangwen thought it over and said, “I’ve got a way to fix all your troubles in one shot.”
“Yeah? Let’s hear it.” Liao Feiyang shrugged with an air of indifference, clearly not expecting much.
“But the price is you buying me breakfast for the next twenty-odd days until the Gaokao ends.” Mo Xiangwen shrugged. “No need for takeout, either. Just stuff from the school cafeteria is fine.”
It wasn’t like he really needed someone fetching his breakfast; he just wanted to make the deal feel fair.
“Sure, no problem. I wasn’t planning on scaling walls anymore anyway.”
“You charge into that office right now and bellow at the top of your lungs, [Teacher! I’m gonna get into college!] Make sure it’s loud—loud enough for the whole building to hear.”
“No way. Twenty days from now, with my level? I’d be lucky to spell ‘college.'” Liao Feiyang gave a self-deprecating chuckle and shook his head. “You think everyone’s like you, Mo Xiangwen?”
“Seriously impressive. Bouncing from third-tier material to second-tier that fast—the homeroom teacher even gave you a shoutout in class.”
“Yeah, you’re not me.” Mo Xiangwen snorted. “But does that sit right with you? You think you can’t do it?”
Liao Feiyang looked tempted, but his face was still full of doubt. “You really think that’ll work?”
Mo Xiangwen itched to plant a kick on Liao Feiyang’s ass and shove him over the edge.
But reason told him he’d already done plenty.
If advice didn’t stick, oh well.
What if it backfired and the guy held a grudge? No thanks.
After years out in the working world, didn’t he know better than to stick his neck out?
He was an adult now—time to grow up and stop being so childish.
Mo Xiangwen closed his eyes, thought it over long and hard, then slowly exhaled.
Screw it. Childish it is—boys stay young till they die.
He delivered a solid kick to Liao Feiyang’s backside, sending him stumbling forward to sprawl face-first on the grass.
“You scaled that damn high wall no problem, but yelling one sentence is too much for you? Coward.”
“The hell? Who’s a coward!” Liao Feiyang scrambled to his feet, spat out a mouthful of grass with a vicious glare, and bolted toward the office.
From inside came Liao Feiyang’s full-throated roar, clear even from dozens of meters away.
[Teacher! I’m gonna get into college!]
