Unhappy

A week has passed since I obtained that information from the senior.

After returning to the dormitory that day, I remained in a state of profound internal conflict until the moment I fell asleep. On one hand, I was skeptical of the senior’s intel; on the other, I felt a deep sense of shame.

The skepticism stemmed from the fact that the professor she described was simply too different from my own impression—it was as if she were talking about a completely different person. The shame, however, came from the realization that if what she said were true, then my previous vilification of the professor had been far too hasty.

Amidst this chaotic headspace, I continued attending the professor’s tutoring sessions. Every day, I was provoked by his caustic language, and every day, I funneled that fury into my deductions. This method was undeniably effective; my performances had become far more effortless than they were during the Freshman Tournament. More importantly, I was gradually finding the “knack” for channeling emotions—though currently still limited to anger—into my deductions.

Even Ning Rou has begun to express surprise lately, remarking that my growth rate is so fast I must have leaped over a major bottleneck. Thanks to my improved mood these past few days, the awkwardness between Ning Rou and me has finally dissolved, and our relationship has returned to its former warmth.

However, because of the poor impression the professor made during the Freshman Tournament, Ning Rou still harbors hostility toward him. She repeatedly urges me to switch tutors, insisting that with the level of Deduction Method I’m currently showing, I would surely make Professor Lin Yu sit up and take notice.

But I refused her, quite decisively.

For one, I understand that my current rapid improvement actually stems from the professor’s “understanding.” Once I leave him, my true form—my lack of innate talent—will be exposed. Yes, understanding. Even though I am still provoked by his biting voice and arrogant tone during every lesson, I know in my heart that this is the method best suited for me.

Both the professor and I are people without natural talent, individuals who are not emotionally sensitive. Only we know how difficult it is for someone without a gift to learn to manipulate emotion. His method fits me perfectly.

The other reason is that the senior’s words have come true. Less than a month since the freshmen entered the academy, the formerly harmonious atmosphere of smiles and pleasantries has vanished without a trace. In classrooms, in the library, even on the main roads, the looks people exchange are laced with wariness. Everyone has realized that resources on the path of Deduction must be fought for.

Whenever this happens, I feel a sense of relief. I am fortunate that both Ning Rou and I have resources provided by the school, so we don’t have to guard against each other for the sake of a little progress. In short, my mindset is different now than it was during the tournament. I only feel lucky. Professor Nangong truly qualifies as… well, half a good person.

“I hate theory classes the most! Finally, it’s over… Yuehua, let’s go buy Cloud Cookies together!”

As soon as class ended, Ning Rou resurrected from her listless standby mode, energetically wrapping her arm around Xiao Yuehua’s waist. But as usual, Xiao Yuehua declined.

“I have to go to my tutoring session.”

“Sigh…” Ning Rou let out a long breath. “Again? I really don’t know what kind of drug that Poker-Face gave you, Yuehua. Your progress clearly comes from your own hard work; a professor who is just a name like him couldn’t possibly have any real talent.”

Xiao Yuehua’s face twitched slightly as she forced a small smile. “That’s… that’s enough, Ning Rou. Don’t say that. Haven’t you been complaining all day about how hard the Cloud Cookies are to get? If you don’t hurry, they’ll probably be sold out again.”

“Oh, right!” Ning Rou panicked instantly and broke into a light jog. “Then I’m going to go buy the cookies first! Yuehua, see you back at the dorm later!”

Watching her receding back, Xiao Yuehua’s unnatural smile quickly faded. Even though Ning Rou was her best friend, even though those words were meant to support her, and even though there was no malice—only a desire to seek justice for what happened at the tournament—it still stung.

“Ning Rou, those words are unfair to the professor,” Xiao Yuehua murmured softly. She just felt uncomfortable in her heart.

Twenty minutes before the appointed time, Xiao Yuehua arrived near the Deduction Room. For some reason, the closer she got to this place, the lighter her heart felt. As she became familiar with these tutoring sessions over the past weeks, she had gradually developed certain habits.

For instance…

Crunch… crunch…

Through the unclosed window of the Deduction Room, the interior was clearly visible. At this moment, Professor Nangong was enjoying his cookies as usual. On that face, normally as cold as frost, was an expression that bordered on the pious.

Xiao Yuehua watched all this in silence. Every time the professor secretly ate cookies alone, he revealed a contrast entirely different from his usual self. It was as if a frozen river had suddenly melted; the flowing stream naturally revealed a simplicity and clarity that were utterly different from the dead of winter.

When she first discovered this, she only found it amusing. She hadn’t expected the icy professor to have such a side. Later, her daily “peeping” was fueled by a slight desire to play a prank. She wondered when the professor would notice her outside the window; surely she could give him a fright, which would count as a small counterattack of her own.

But by now, the behavior had become a habit. She wasn’t even sure why, but before every lesson, she just wanted to see this other side of the professor. It didn’t matter if she could prank him or not; she simply wanted to see his hidden nature.

It was like a little black cat in an animation secretly stealing food from the kitchen. Perhaps what was stolen wasn’t a treasure or money, but just a trivial bean or a fish the length of a finger. It had no real value to speak of, yet one could derive a tiny, hidden joy from it.

“It really is… this kind of taste… Sigh…”

For some reason, the professor uncharacteristically showed a trace of melancholy today, letting out a soft sigh. Outside the window, Xiao Yuehua was startled, her heart involuntarily tightening.

Is the professor in some kind of trouble? Or did he think of something from the past? He actually sighed?

It wasn’t an intentional thought, but one that surfaced naturally in her mind. Perhaps even Xiao Yuehua herself didn’t realize she was becoming curious about the professor’s inner world.

“If only Jiang Yun could taste this too… that girl…”

The professor’s expression was somewhat low; he was clearly missing someone.

Jiang Yun… who is that? A woman? What is she to the professor?

Xiao Yuehua felt a wave of subtle, inexplicable displeasure. She decided her observation of the professor for today would end here. She walked quickly into the room.

“Professor.”

“Xiao… Xiao Yuehua?”

The professor was clearly startled by her. He stood up, his expression rapidly snapping back to his usual coldness. “When did you arrive?”

Is this the face you show to me?

For some reason, although she was already used to the professor’s “iceberg” face, seeing it now made her feel a faint, throbbing irritation.

“Just arrived.”

As she said those words, what flashed in her mind was the completely different expression the professor had shown just moments ago when he was murmuring about someone else.