Upon Qin Zixin’s return to the classroom, a small bag of snacks in hand, she was surprised to find a stack of pristine new textbooks neatly arranged on her desk.
These formidable textbooks formed two thick, perfectly squared stacks, each reaching at least the height of her forearm.
Beyond her own, only two other desks in the classroom held similar stacks of new books, presumably belonging to students who had not attended the summer remedial classes.
Qin Zixin surmised that some kindhearted classmate had taken the initiative to collect hers.
The seat beside her desk was now occupied by a girl, the bothersome ‘fly’ who had previously clung to her having apparently departed.
Qin Zixin quickly scanned the classroom, but the other person was nowhere to be seen.
Qin Zixin, harboring a mischievous thought, wondered if he had perhaps retreated to the restroom to relieve himself.
What a spectacle it would be, she mused, if someone were to snap a picture and upload it to a forum.
[System, should I go to the boys’ restroom to find him? Take a picture and blackmail him for pocket money?]
Qin Zixin’s face remained expressionless, but inwardly she was grinning broadly.
[Go, if you don’t, you’re a dog.]
[I won’t go! Whether I go or not, I’m not a dog!]
The System had long since grown weary of offering a direct response to the girl’s endless theatrics and tantrums, for it knew she was a complete coward.
Her sole courage in the face of adversity lay in grumbling a few complaints to it.
It considered its time better spent teasing Tang Yuyu on the chat application than engaging in idle banter with this insolent young imp.
The girl occupying the seat adjacent to Qin Zixin’s was of a comparable height, likely hovering around 160 centimeters.
She was clad in a pure cotton T-shirt, its original print long faded from countless washes, and her frame was noticeably slender, almost devoid of any discernible curves.
Adorning her face was a pair of rather unfashionable, large-framed Wayfarer-style glasses.
Her features were somewhat above average, with fair skin, though marred by coarse pores and an oily sheen.
A flat nose further detracted from the definition of her profile, rendering her quite unremarkable beneath the spectacles.
Qin Zixin couldn’t help but feel that this quintessential image of a middle school bookworm was, frankly, a touch too stereotypical.
The moment the girl saw Qin Zixin approach her desk, her face flushed crimson, resembling a monkey’s backside.
Yet, her eyes, framed by the black glasses, remained fixed intently on Qin Zixin’s ample chest, and it was a noticeable pause before she finally managed to stand.
Qin Zixin turned sideways to pass, but just as she did, the girl abruptly leaned forward, causing their bodies to brush intimately.
Qin Zixin’s substantial chest brushed heavily against her, the ample, soft flesh swaying with an almost exaggerated motion.
Qin Zixin, however, remained oblivious.
Behind her, Qiao Hua and Fang Bixian, seated at their desks, found their eyes glued to the sight.
The mulberry silk blouse Qin Zixin wore that day was already quite sheer, allowing the faint outline of her bra to be discerned without much effort.
With each sway, her breasts seemed even softer and more resilient, a testament to their generous fullness.
Fang Bixian only dared to steal glances, while Qiao Hua watched with his mouth agape.
Settling back into her seat, Qin Zixin offered the girl a polite greeting, and they exchanged introductions.
The girl introduced herself as Zhang Wanbai, a former student of a middle school in Gulou District, a name Qin Zixin did not recognize.
This was hardly surprising, as Nanshi High was renowned for attracting the crème de la crème of Nanling City’s student population.
Many top students from other middle schools struggled to even secure a spot in Nanshi High’s regular classes.
For instance, Qin Zixin’s former school, Lianhu No. 2 Middle School, had over six hundred students in her grade, yet only eight managed to gain admission to Nanshi High.
While she might consider herself a slacker compared to Yang Qichao, within Lianhu No. 2 Middle School, she had consistently ranked among the top students.
Qin Zixin retrieved her phone from her backpack and idly launched a casual Flash mini-game, a PC port.
Zhang Wanbai leaned in, her gaze fixed on Qin Zixin’s phone screen.
As she did so, one hand subtly found its way to Qin Zixin’s thigh, and a peculiar flush crept across her face.
“Qin, do you enjoy playing games?”
Sensing Zhang Wanbai’s hand stroking her thigh, Qin Zixin felt a prickle of unease.
Yet, as was her habit, her rosy, cherry-like lips immediately launched into a stream of playful, insincere words.
“Oh, just messing around.
I don’t actually play games much; my phone is strictly for studying, you know.”
Qin Zixin flashed a cheeky, impish grin, a characteristic smirk.
Zhang Wanbai offered no reply, merely continuing to stare intently at her face.
The intense gaze made Qin Zixin distinctly uncomfortable; she shivered slightly, avoiding Zhang Wanbai’s eyes as she resumed her game.
However, Zhang Wanbai’s unwavering stare had made her so tense that she couldn’t perform at her usual gaming prowess.
Within two minutes, her character met an untimely demise.
With Zhang Wanbai still observing, Qin Zixin dared not continue playing.
She straightened her posture, assuming the meek, earnest demeanor of a timid student.
Noticing that Qin Zixin had ceased playing on her phone, Zhang Wanbai also straightened up, retrieving a crumpled copy of “SPARK Grammar: Comprehensive Guide” from her bag.
Qin Zixin, like a thief in the night, subtly shifted her gaze to peek at it.
The book was filled with copious notes, a sight that made even the ‘little imp’ Qin Zixin click her tongue in astonished admiration.
In middle school, she had barely taken any notes, and many of the supplementary books bought for her by Tang Yuyu and her Uncle Tang Longlong remained untouched.
Compared to such assiduous and dedicated students, she truly was far too negligent.
Just then, the classroom’s front door was abruptly shoved open, and a stout, middle-aged man stumbled awkwardly into the room.
The man appeared to be in his late forties, his scalp showing a slight bald patch, and his current demeanor was rather disheveled.
After steadying himself, he first retreated outside the classroom, then, with a peculiar hop, stepped back over the threshold and re-entered, as though his clumsy entrance had never occurred.
He came to a halt at the podium, then inscribed two bold characters on the blackboard: Zhang Wei.
A ripple of understanding passed through the students; this was undoubtedly their homeroom teacher for Class 2, Grade 1.
The classroom promptly quieted.
Qin Zixin quickly tucked her phone into the desk’s compartment, her small head discreetly peeking from behind the formidable stack of books on her desk, observing the scene.
Typically, summer remedial classes were taught by younger, newly appointed teachers, who were easily exploited.
However, a homeroom teacher for an elite class was invariably a veteran, highly distinguished educator, treated with the utmost reverence by the school.
Such a figure would never be relegated to teaching holiday remedial classes to mere children.
Judging by the situation, Qin Zixin surmised that even the students who had attended the summer remedial classes were encountering Zhang Wei for the very first time.
“My name is on the blackboard; I trust none of you are illiterate?” Zhang Wei’s voice boomed as his gaze swept across the classroom.
The class was predominantly male, with a striking 34 boys among the 55 students, most of whom sported buzz cuts at first glance.
Once the students were divided into science and arts streams in their second year of high school, he predicted that many more girls would leave the class, transforming it even further into what resembled a monk’s monastery.
Zhang Wei’s gaze paused briefly on Qin Zixin, startling her into immediately retracting her head behind the stack of books.
“From this point forward,” he declared, “I will be your homeroom teacher for Class 2, Grade 1.
For the foreseeable future—at least a year, I should think—all matters pertaining to this class will be under my direct supervision and responsibility.
I’m not one for micromanaging, so I expect you to keep out of trouble.
As long as your antics don’t escalate to the grade office, I’m generally inclined to turn a blind eye.”
Zhang Wei’s delivery was punctuated by hesitant pauses, leaving the classroom in a somewhat awkward silence.
Liu Tanxiong, seated in the front row, was the first to applaud, and the other students followed suit, albeit belatedly.
Even Qin Zixin, with a hint of reluctance, offered two soft claps merely for appearances.
Zhang Wei noted Liu Tanxiong’s prompt response, a silent nod of approval forming within him.
He raised a hand, pressing it gently downward, and the applause gradually subsided.
“A pleasure to meet you all,” he began.
“First, I’ll call roll so I can get to know everyone here.
When your name is called, please stand up, give a brief introduction, perhaps mention something you enjoy, so we can all get a preliminary acquaintance.”
“Lu Zude!”
A slightly chubby, fair-skinned boy, seated in the middle, nervously rose to his feet, his self-introduction beginning with a noticeable tremor.
“H-hello, classmates.
Lu is my Zude, no! I am Lu Zude.”
A wave of laughter swept through the class, leaving Lu Zude standing bewildered, on the verge of collapsing.
At that moment, Zhang Wei abruptly interjected.
“What’s so amusing?” he barked.
“He achieved the highest score in the class on the high school entrance exam! Did any of you score higher than him?”
The laughter in the classroom ceased abruptly as Zhang Wei held up the roster in his hand.
“This list of mine is ranked by academic performance.
Lu Zude was merely one spot away from qualifying for the ‘Rocket Class.’
If our class is to produce a student within the top thirty of the entire grade, Lu Zude is undoubtedly the most probable candidate.
I pay no heed to summer remedial class results; they hold little significance.
Very well, Lu Zude, please continue.”
Sensing the hostile glances from his classmates, Lu Zude involuntarily swallowed hard.
His high school entrance exam score had indeed been just shy of the ‘Rocket Class’ threshold, yet it wasn’t significantly higher than many of his peers.
Zhang Wei’s words, while ostensibly supportive, had in fact effectively painted a target on Lu Zude’s back.
Most students possessed the typical youthful pride, having been top performers in their respective middle schools.
While they often conceded to the truly exceptional “monsters” in the Rocket Class, how many in their own class would genuinely accept someone like Lu Zude, who merely had the potential to catch up to that elite group?
“I… I’m from Nanling University of Science and Technology Affiliated Middle School.
I enjoy reading.
That’s all, teacher, I’m finished.”
Lu Zude’s eyes darted nervously; he remained standing, not daring to sit until Zhang Wei waved a dismissive hand, at which point he let out a visible sigh of relief.
Qin Zixin, seated among her peers, listened with a growing sense of dread.
The four elite classes combined comprised only 220 students, and Qin Zixin’s high school entrance exam ranking for Nanshi High was precisely 220.
Observing Zhang Wei’s stern demeanor, she couldn’t help but worry that he might single her out as a negative example.
“Deng Lanying!”
A girl rose to her feet; she was seated one row ahead of Lu Zude and hailed from the same middle school.
“Zhao Qingzi.”
“Feng Yizhong.”
****
“Liu Tanxiong.”
“Fang Bixian.”
****
“Zhang Wanbai.”
Qin Zixin’s deskmate rose, fumbling through her self-introduction as all eyes in the room converged upon her.
Qin Zixin, like a turtle retreating into its shell, ducked her head even lower.
****
“Li Jinjin.”
“Zhao Jiajun.”
The boy who had previously bothered Qin Zixin stood up, exuding an air of exaggerated familiarity, and with a flamboyant gesture, slicked back his hair.
“Minna-san, ohayou!
Watashi wa Zhao Jiajun desu wa, a true otaku, yoroshiku onegai shimasu!
My ultimate recommendations are *Sword Art Online*, *Fate*, *Love, Chunibyo & Other Delusions*, *Strike Witches*, and *Attack on Titan*.
Ah, anyone with similar tastes, feel free to find me!
Arigato!”
Zhao Jiajun rattled off the anime titles as if they were menu items, growing more confident and gesticulating wildly with each word.
Not only did Zhang Wei’s eyes widen at the podium, but even Qin Zixin felt goosebumps prickle her skin.
However, most students who had attended the summer remedial classes merely regarded Zhao Jiajun as a joke, having already experienced his antics during the break.
[Damn, case closed! So he’s an otaku! No wonder he always seemed off.]
[Aren’t those in your group otakus too? If you hate them so much, why don’t you disband your trashy group?]
Watching Zhao Jiajun, Qin Zixin suddenly felt that calling someone an ‘otaku’ was a truly offensive insult.
[No, those are just anime watchers.
Calling them ‘otaku’ is way too harsh.]
****
“Zhou Dahong.”
“Qiao Hua.”
****
“Qin Zixin.”
With Qin Zixin’s name, Zhang Wei’s list concluded.
Qin Zixin nervously rose to her feet, the gazes of all her classmates fixed upon her.
The awe, jealousy, and covetousness in their eyes, both male and female, were all too familiar.
She had initially felt some tension, but this familiar sensation of being stared at paradoxically brought her into a zone of comfort.
“Hello, everyone, teachers and classmates.
My name is Qin Zixin, and I’m from Lianhu No. 2 Middle School.
I, um, I guess I enjoy reading horror novels and playing games.
Those are what I spent most of my time on during the holidays.
My academic performance still lags behind many of you, and I hope to improve together with everyone in the coming year.”
Qin Zixin’s voice was clear and crisp.
She hadn’t dared to speak with a forced tone, and her natural voice sounded entirely like a little girl under ten.
After she finished, Liu Tanxiong was the first to applaud, and the rest of the students followed suit.
No one had applauded after previous self-introductions, leaving Qin Zixin somewhat flustered.
She didn’t know how to respond, her pretty face flushing a delicate pink.
Zhang Wei also joined the applause; he had decided against making her a negative example.
If the last-ranked student had been a boy, he might have said something, but he absolutely dared not be reckless with a girl of Qin Zixin’s figure and appearance, fearing any potential trouble.
Having gotten a general sense of the students’ faces, Zhang Wei didn’t bother holding a class meeting for the remaining time.
Instead, he simply turned on the projector and played a recorded broadcast of CCTV’s “Back to School.”
****
At lunchtime, Qin Zixin found Yang Qichao, and they left the school grounds together.
They were dismissed late for lunch, and the cafeteria was sure to have long lines.
Since both were day students, they decided to eat at a soup dumpling restaurant outside school.
The soup dumpling restaurant was bustling with people, not only students from Nanshi High but also those from the nearby university town.
After ordering a small portion of dumplings for herself, Qin Zixin chose a table close to the air conditioning and fanned herself with a small hand.
She wasn’t very tolerant of heat and easily perspired.
When she sweated, her snow-white skin took on a lustrous, polished jade-like quality, making her even more alluring.
Pulling out her phone, she saw a string of messages from Zhao Jiajun.
Aside from the first message, which added her to the class group chat, the rest were meaningless chatter.
Qin Zixin pouted, and after applying to join the class group, she promptly blocked Zhao Jiajun’s QQ account.
Yang Qichao returned with two bowls of soup dumplings.
Qin Zixin, grinning, stood up to take her small bowl.
She scooped out a few dumplings, then leaned forward, placing them one by one into Yang Qichao’s bowl.
Her large, soft breasts, lightly swaying with her movements, jiggled before Yang Qichao—a pair of bright moons shining in the sky, like imperial grapes of jade.
Qin Zixin’s shirt, made of silk, appeared even more translucent from her perspiration.
With every slight movement, her alluring curves stirred, a rising and falling tide of sensation, accompanied by her captivating, orchid-like fragrance that utterly entranced.
Her natural, lotus-like charm was vibrantly alive, and the boys at the opposite table stared, their eyes nearly popping out.
Yang Qichao couldn’t help but swallow, and though he had known Qin Zixin for a long time, his peripheral vision involuntarily kept drifting to the tantalizing cleavage, his ‘little head’ stubbornly refusing to stay down.
Yet, Qin Zixin herself remained utterly oblivious to all of this.
Even if she knew, she wouldn’t care, perhaps even finding it amusing and playing with fire even more recklessly.
She knew that while Yang Qichao had the desire, he utterly lacked the courage.
This was a conclusion she had drawn from years of ‘playing with fire’ with Yang Qichao.