At this point, Yu Renjie more or less figured out what the teacher was really saying—between the lines, it was just telling him to keep a low profile as a father.
How ridiculous.
This had been his dream since childhood, and now that he’d finally achieved it, he was already being reserved—not even banging drums and parading his wife and kid through the streets.
That’s all well and good, but then he thought about it—his Jinyang was so handsome, dignified, and pure, a cold and strikingly good-looking guy, always ranking among the top three in his grade, with more awards than anyone else, and every year he’d dance at the school arts festival to liven up the crowd.
After school, whenever he had free time, he’d run off to feed stray cats, dogs, mice, leopards, tigers—whatever animals he could find, taking care of all those little strays until their coats gleamed.
His son, who had grown up right in the palm of his hand, was so perfect for home and family, and yet—not to say he should be the center of attention at school, but how could it be that not a single girl liked him?
That’s just impossible.
“You don’t get it, these days they’re all still into the blond guy next door!”
Tang Xiang came back from the bathroom, hair mask washed out, looking understanding, but the more she talked about it, the more annoyed she got.
“That tall kid who read your guarantee letter out loud on the podium—Ayang’s deskmate, a big shot in their class—always lording his height over everyone, bullying your son for being shorter, using his homework notebook to prop up the corners of his desk. You know Ayang hates when people touch his homework. Once, he even poked Ayang with a compass. Your son still has a scar on his arm from it.”
Yu Renjie sobered up most of the way, sprang up from the floor, and staggered into the bathroom.
“That little punk! I knew it! No matter how wild, you can’t just read someone else’s letters out loud. What’s his name? I’ll have Old Zhang look into it.”
Old Zhang was Yu Renjie’s secretary, the know-it-all of Fengtang, and worked fast—less than half an hour later, he’d already sent the kid’s info to the boss’s phone.
Yu Renjie made a phone call from the bedroom balcony, his tone dripping with paternal authority.
“Tang Xiang, if you ever keep something like this from me again with our son, I’m really going to get mad.”
Even in the middle of the night, he couldn’t let it go, crawling out of bed, flipping on the bedside lamp with a loud “yo,” dragging Tang Xiang out of her dreams, and threatening her through gritted teeth, “That was a compass! Who knows if that brat ever stuck it up his ass! Filthy! Who knows if it was disinfected, or if he got a tetanus shot?”
Yu Renjie was so angry he couldn’t sleep, so he threw off the covers. “No, I have to go to Zhao School tomorrow.”
Tang Xiang pulled him back, her voice still drowsy.
“I was lying to you, it didn’t go in. You’ve always been hands-on with Ayang, how could you not recognize the vaccine scar on his arm?”
Tang Xiang buried herself back in her pillow.
“Ayang reacted fast, didn’t let him stick the whole thing in, just left a small cut. I only noticed when I was washing his clothes and saw the sleeve was torn. He didn’t want me to tell you because he was afraid you’d go cause trouble with the other kid’s dad. He said he could handle it himself.”
“He can handle it, my ass, with his kitten-rabbit temperament,” Yu Renjie snorted coldly, flicked off the lamp, and slipped into bed like a sleek fish, his voice muffled but firm.
“Don’t take me for a fool. If he’d really handled it, you wouldn’t be telling me about it now, all sneaky. You’re just as mad as I am. Well, I’m going to get back at them—no way I’ll let that brat’s dad come over and apologize to my son. Mark my words, Tang Xiang!”
Half asleep, Tang Xiang still found the strength to comfort him.
“Honestly, it’s normal. Ayang’s been a class officer since he was little, so it’s easy for him to become public enemy number one. When I was that age, I was into those bad boys with gelled hair and tight pants, too.”
During three years of middle school, Yu Jinyang really didn’t get much attention from girls, aside from that cringe-worthy guarantee letter from Yu Renjie that made his son a target.
Mainly, it was because as class president and Youth League secretary, he was always in close contact with teachers, which made the girls keep their distance.
Even though his popping dance moves were pretty cool, he only got a few admiring glances during the arts festival.
But as soon as the semester got back on track, he reverted to his meticulous class president self, and the little sparks in the girls’ hearts would instantly be snuffed out—they all kept their distance.
Of course, there were still some who wanted to challenge authority.
After the arts festival in ninth grade, a girl dressed up like a strawberry shortcake, surrounded by a group of loyal followers, cornered Yu Jinyang at the back door of the classroom.
This Sister Sou, who had apparently picked up her moves from some idol drama, walked right up to Yu Jinyang, suddenly yanked off the necklace around her neck, stuffed it into his pocket without a word, and declared she’d win him over within a week.
Then she strutted off with her ponytail swishing, earning the nickname “Sister Sou”—the one who “searched” necklaces.
Yu Jinyang didn’t think she really liked him.
That morning, he’d just taken attendance at the school gate for those not wearing uniforms, and her name was right on the list.
She was just trying to get him to cross her name off.
These girls came up with endless tricks just to avoid wearing the uniform.
In this regard, he actually preferred Li Yingqiao’s straightforward approach.
She’d just punch him once, or twice if once wasn’t enough.
No matter how big the deal was, two punches settled it.
Li Yingqiao knew his limits—if two punches couldn’t solve it, then even beating him to death wouldn’t.
Li Yingqiao was a girl of principle; if she could use two punches, she’d never settle for just one.
But Sister Sou quickly moved on.
That year, Gao Dian couldn’t take the local high school entrance exam because his household registration wasn’t in Shenzhen, so he transferred back to their class.
By then, Gao Dian was already 1.8 meters tall, completely outclassing the previous tallest guy in the class, becoming a giant among them.
So everyone started calling him “Brother Dian.”
Even Yu Jinyang’s once-arrogant deskmate followed suit, and after that, Luo Yuan never dared touch Yu Jinyang’s homework again—even without his dad’s intervention.
With Gao Dian around, even the homeroom teacher found it easier to deal with Yu Jinyang.
The two of them were inseparable, even during break exercises. In a class where the average male height was 1.65 meters, Gao Dian was like an unshakable pillar.
Once Gao Dian settled in, he immediately started pestering Yu Jinyang about his idol’s whereabouts.
But Yu Jinyang had no way to contact Li Yingqiao.
After that meeting at the state-run restaurant, they hadn’t seen each other again.
Only Liang Mei Laoshi had given him her number once, saying she was still trying to persuade her to study, that the “revolution hadn’t succeeded yet,” and to hold on to her test papers for now.
But a whole semester passed, and Liang Mei Laoshi never called again.
Even a donkey would’ve been dragged home by now.
It wasn’t until many years later that he truly understood—Li Yingqiao was incredibly stubborn, and Liang Mei Laoshi’s earlier success couldn’t be replicated.
He’d have to find another way.
Liang Mei was worn out.
Persuading someone to study had always been a thankless job.
Getting a kid who’d rather squat on the ground all afternoon watching ants move than glance at her test papers and figure out what went wrong—she just didn’t have her own teacher’s skill.
So she moved the ant colony into her rented apartment for Li Yingqiao to study at her leisure.
When she got bored, Liang Mei would go over the test papers with her.
Oddly enough, Li Yingqiao remembered things best at those times.
Later, after repeated failures, Liang Mei started keeping all sorts of little creatures—crickets, snails, grasshoppers, dragonflies, even a giant dung beetle.
If anyone fought, she’d “execute” them.
Of course, the one Liang Mei most wanted to “execute” was Li Yingqiao.
Only now did she finally understand the painstaking efforts of her own teachers and what it meant that “one thing conquers another.”
Li Yingqiao seemed to have a logic system even more convincing than Liang Mei’s.
She didn’t believe in changing her fate through studying, and no matter how many reasons Liang Mei gave, Li Yingqiao could immediately fire back with her own arguments.
No matter how sincere and heartfelt Liang Mei tried to be, in the end, Li Yingqiao would always counter with her twisted reasoning, “Sincerity isn’t for trading for sincerity. If you insist on trading sincerity for sincerity, Teacher, you’ll just get hurt. But sincerity can be exchanged for money. Otherwise, why does my mom always say, ‘If you really want it, I’ll give you a discount’? See, as long as I say I’m sincere, a fifty-yuan scarf becomes forty-five. Didn’t I just make five yuan?”
Liang Mei gave up trying to reason with her.
Knowing she liked novels and anime, she recommended a Japanese drama about two friends who loved music, but ultimately drifted apart due to academic differences, losing touch over time.
When they finally reunited, there was nothing left to say, only endless noise.
When Liang Mei asked her thoughts after watching, Li Yingqiao’s mind was clearly elsewhere.
She replied perfunctorily, “I’ll study hard.”
Liang Mei wasn’t fooled for a second.
“Study my ass.”
At that moment, Li Yingqiao was leaning against the utility pole at her front door, bored, counting the few lonely stars overhead. In the end, she could only sigh.
See, Teacher, I told you, but you still don’t believe me.
Liang Mei pulled out her trump card again.
“Don’t you want to go to Tanchung with Yu Jinyang? After that, he’ll get into a top university, and with his family background, his dad will definitely send him abroad. When he returns after his studies, you know how strict he is with himself. He’ll be a real overseas-educated elite, and he’s handsome too. Even if you graduate from vocational school, save up some money screwing in bolts, you’ll be living in two completely different worlds. Can you still be good friends like now? Will you even have anything to talk about?”
To be honest, Li Yingqiao felt conflicted.
Her feelings for Yu Jinyang were complicated—she truly hoped he’d do well, but also genuinely didn’t want him to do too well.
That’s why she said sincerity is complicated.
This time, being able to see him again, Li Yingqiao was genuinely happy.
She really didn’t want to lose Yu Jinyang as a friend—she really didn’t.
So every time they met, she did her best to maintain their relationship.
Those days before Little Painting Town became a hero’s stage were the happiest days of her life so far, a time that would always shine like a lamp in her heart’s museum.
Yu Jinyang was like a living souvenir brought out from Little Painting Town, full of meaning.
She really did have a “museum lens” for him.
But if things really went as Liang Mei Laoshi said, wouldn’t that mean that after Yu Jinyang went abroad, she’d have to work hard to make enough money to go abroad too?
Otherwise, they’d still drift apart, and Li Yingqiao knew she’d be exhausted, maybe even drag her mom down with her.
Their lives were hard enough already.
So it wasn’t like she absolutely had to be friends with Yu Jinyang.
“I’ll have other friends.”
Li Yingqiao sounded like she was talking to Liang Mei, but maybe she was saying it to herself.
At that moment, Liang Mei truly understood the helplessness her own teacher must have felt years ago—this was karma.
At first, Li Yingqiao would still call her “Liang Laoshi” with a few polite, formal words, always keeping a careful distance as student and teacher.
Now, she’d completely crossed that line, calling her “Mei Jie” all the time, sometimes even hugging her waist and acting cute, like an endlessly sticky piece of toffee, dragging out her words, “Come on, Mei Jie, let me finish this shift first, okay?”
Sometimes, she’d help out at the milk tea shop by the school gate, and she really was fast at doing the accounts.
The boss didn’t dare officially hire her, but sometimes, when they were short-handed, he’d let her keep an eye on things.
Li Yingqiao didn’t dare let Li Shuli know, and Liang Mei used that as leverage to make her promise she’d get into the top ten in the class at the end of the term.
Top ten in Class 2?
That was barely above water in the experimental class.
Nowhere near Liang Mei’s real goal.
Liang Mei couldn’t figure out why Li Yingqiao resisted studying so much, just like Li Yingqiao couldn’t understand why Liang Mei was so persistent about her.
There were only one hundred days left until the high school entrance exam.
Yu Jinyang, as the student representative for the Hundred Days Oath Ceremony, was about to give a speech.
Yu Renjie sat in the prime parent’s seat with his phone, ready to record, stretching his arm high to get the perfect shot—sideways, low angle, high angle, wide shot—looking just like a monkey reaching for fruit, hopping up and down just to capture his son’s best side.
Li Yingqiao and Liang Mei squatted on the field at Experimental Middle School, watching the sea of heads in the audience and the school leaders’ gazes sweeping the crowd like X-rays, and that thin, cool figure waiting backstage by the podium.
Whew.
Whew.
The two of them sighed at the same time. So hot, they were roasting.
“When is this going to start? Gao Dian, move over here, you’re blocking the sun for Liang Laoshi!”
Li Yingqiao, holding Yu Jinyang’s Chinese textbook, wiped her forehead and looked curiously at the towering Gao Dian.
“Are you really 1.8 meters tall?”
Liang Mei smacked Li Yingqiao on the back of the head.
“You’re wiping your sweat with Yu Jinyang’s book! Come on, Gao Dian, scoot over, teacher’s roasting!”
Gao Dian didn’t dare move, worried the leaders’ X-ray eyes would land on him.
“…… I give up! You two, don’t tear my pants! Brother Dian’s taking photos behind us!”
Premium Chapter
Login to buy access to this Chapter.