“Don’t know.”
Zong Chi was more confident than she was.
As the bus pulled in, he told her, “You look like someone who gets everything right.”
He Dongli shot a glare at this “bad student,” got on the bus, and left without another word.
That night, He Dongli received a call notifying her that she’d been accepted as a ninth-grade transfer student at the Affiliated School.
Her mom was overjoyed.
She’d already cooked dinner, but was so excited she decided they should go out to eat and let He Dongli pick her favorite.
He Dongli shook her head.
“Let’s just eat at home. I don’t really have anything I want. Besides, my phone’s broken.”
Yu Xiaohan comforted her daughter.
“If it’s broken, it’s broken. You were helping a classmate. What’s with kids these days—fighting just to take an exam?”
He Dongli explained objectively, “It wasn’t a fight. It was a group bullying one kid. You could tell those boys were older.”
Yu Xiaohan followed her daughter’s logic.
“So how did it turn into a fight?”
Passing the exam and getting into the Affiliated School, just as her mother wished, brought He Dongli a bit of relief and joy.
As she answered her mother, she was a bit lazy, “You asking this way just proves you’re normal—you’d never bully the weak.”
Yu Xiaohan laughed, saying her daughter was wise beyond her years.
As they tidied up for dinner, He Dongli specifically asked her mom how much she should ask for her broken phone.
Yu Xiaohan said, “If it’s too much trouble, just forget it. It was old anyway.”
“He said it’s worth at most two hundred.”
“Who?”
“The boy who sat in front of me—the one who got bullied. I think his surname is Zong.”
“He was bullied, let it go.”
He Dongli protested, “But my phone only broke because of him.”
In the end, her mom said it wasn’t even worth two hundred—one hundred was already too much.
He Dongli chewed a mouthful of rice, swallowed, and decided, “Then just ask for one hundred.”
When school started in September, He Dongli arrived early at the classroom door as instructed in the notice, waiting for the homeroom teacher, Zhu Laoshi.
Students came and went from the classroom, and naturally, some curious glances fell on He Dongli.
She thought she was alone, but unexpectedly, a boy in the same brand-new uniform stopped at the door of Class (1)…
Each grade at the Affiliated School had thirty classes, but four of them weren’t regular classes.
There were two Tianwen Classes and two Jingdu Classes.
The former were city-wide selection classes for model students and those meeting certain criteria; the latter were advanced classes for outstanding students within the district.
All four classes were established with Scholarship donations from alumni entrepreneurs, so that no excellent child would be held back by financial worries.
The alumnus and Scholarship sponsor was Zong Jingzhou’s father.
He’d attended the Affiliated School in S City before moving the family to Southeast Asia. After years of upheaval, he never returned.
According to his wishes, after his death, his ashes were divided—half buried where his children lived and worked, half returned to his hometown.
As Zong Jingzhou put it, if he’d had any other choice, he would never have used his father’s name to call in favors.
Zong Chi had gotten into a fight at his old school, and as the incident escalated, none of the parents would back down—even threatening to bring in the Legal Team.
Because of this, Zong Jingzhou shut the door and nearly resorted to the most old-fashioned family discipline.
If it hadn’t been for Yu Weishi crying and pleading outside, he might have beaten the boy half to death.
So, he decided to transfer his son.
In Zong Jingzhou’s view, what you study or what grades you get was never the point—what mattered was developing the ability to compete and solve problems.
Since Zong Chi couldn’t behave at his current school, always causing trouble, he might as well see how top students in the system learned and worked hard.
He never expected that, even during the transfer exam, Zong Chi would get into trouble.
The driver waited for him at Nanmen, while he was fighting at Beimen.
Afterward, he wandered home by himself, taking twists and turns.
After Zhu Laoshi called Zong Jingzhou’s secretary, Zong Jingzhou nearly fainted with anger.
When Zong Chi came home, sporting new bruises, Zong Jingzhou was so furious he went looking for something to hit him with, cursing, “You little brat, you’re the biggest punishment of my life!”
At the time, Yu Weishi was sick in bed, but hearing the commotion, she rushed up, not waiting for the nanny to stop her.
Zong Chi, quick as a leopard, dashed upstairs and, from behind the railing, finally let it all out: Zong Jingzhou, you don’t know a damn thing!
All you care about is your business and my mom—what am I to you?
Your reputation, your Nashdaq Bell Ringing, that’s all that matters!
You can’t lose to anyone—even if you knock someone down, you have to do it fair and square.
I’m not convinced!
I’ll never be convinced by you!
“They started it, bullying us from the junior high division—why can’t I fight back? I just did! If they don’t respect decency, then fists will do the talking!”
Yu Weishi was so angry she saw stars, clutching her chest.
“Xiao Chi, you’re out of line! Do you really want your father to end up at the police station like those parents, with you kids getting a record or punishment—would you be proud of that? Yes, you didn’t start it, but you got your friends together for revenge afterward. That’s a terrible influence. What do you want your father to do—go against the parent committee and the school board for you? Zhu the lawyer’s lessons were wasted on you.”
Zong Chi hated that they didn’t understand, muttering coldly in the end, “You’re not even as good as an outsider.”
That night, the school sent out the written exam results, and to be honest, Zong Jingzhou was surprised.
Nian Xiaozhang personally called to ask after Mrs. Zong’s health, then mentioned Zong Chi’s score—he’d just made the cutoff, which at least let them save face.
Not long after, Zong Jingzhou hosted a dinner for Nian Xiaozhang and Zhu Laoshi.
He even asked Zong Chi to toast them with tea.
The Zong couple meant that, since Zhu Laoshi and Yu Weishi were schoolmates, they’d entrust their troublemaker son to him.
Zhu Fengchun didn’t refuse.
After a couple rounds of drinks, the conversation turned to Zong Chi’s fight outside school.
Zhu Fengchun made a point to clarify in front of Nian Xiaozhang that it was the older students who provoked him first.
Other students saw Zong Chi only fought back when forced.
Everything has its reason. Remember the past, learn for the future, and see what happens next.
Zong Jingzhou laughed, telling Zong Chi to thank Zhu Laoshi quickly.
Zong Chi curled his lips, thinking, shouldn’t he be thanking those who saw and spoke up?
It was at this dinner that Zong Chi first heard He Dongli’s name clearly—she was the top scorer among the transfer students that year.
Zhu Laoshi couldn’t praise her enough.
Zong Chi felt a twinge of envy.
A good student’s words carried a thousand times more weight.
He asked Zhu Laoshi, “Which class is she in?”
Everyone at the table looked at him.
Zong Chi, unfazed, said, “I broke her phone. She said she’d ask me for compensation when school starts.”
The reason Zhu Laoshi was so pleased was that this excellent student had been assigned to his Tianwen Class (1).
When Zong Jingzhou stood to toast, he joked with Zhu Laoshi, “You got a great student, and picked up a troublemaker to boot—doesn’t that count as risk hedging?”
Zong Chi, amid the adults’ smiles and compliments, was bored out of his mind and just wanted to escape…
He always remembered the day school started at the Affiliated School.
As he walked up to the Tianwen (1) Class classroom, he saw He Dongli in her blue-and-white uniform, tall and slender, standing there.
A beam of sunlight streamed through the clean green glass.
She stood in that rectangle of light, the glow on her face like a butterfly-shaped patch.
As he got closer, the butterfly flew away.
Zhu Laoshi came over with a stack of lesson plans and greeted the two of them.
“You two come in together in a bit.”
He Dongli wore her hair in a high ponytail, facing the front door of the classroom.
That summer, Zong Chi had shot up in height, and after a month and a half, he was now half a head taller than the girl he’d only met once before.
The two of them waited outside, apart and alone.
Zong Chi stood a little farther away, leaning on the balcony, facing outward.
After a while, he remembered something and was about to say it to her, but Zhu Laoshi had already finished roll call inside.
“We have two new students in the class—everyone, welcome them…”
He Dongli immediately walked in.
That day, their names were written on the blackboard, one on the left, one on the right.
He Dongli’s name was easy to recognize.
Zong Chi’s “Chi”—many students didn’t know that character.
Some read it as “Xi,” like the “Xi” in osmanthus.
Zong Chi turned and wrote the pinyin on the board behind him.
When he turned back to face the class, he saw He Dongli looking at the pinyin on the blackboard.
Their eyes met for a moment, then drifted apart, still strangers.
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