Yuan Su’s fingertips tightened unconsciously, causing faint wrinkles to form at the edges of the test paper.
The feeling was strange.
It was as if someone had peered into the most hidden corners of his heart and then depicted it with a compassionate yet gentle touch.
Stuck in the mud… in an unnoticed dark place…
Who was this writing about?
Him?
Yuan Su looked up and glanced at the figure beside him, who was explaining a problem to Xu Suiran.
Slender, delicate, always sitting upright.
What was she thinking?
Why did he feel, for a moment, that this girl was writing about her own experiences?
Yuan Su, you’re really messed up.
She’s just writing an essay to get points. Why are you overthinking it? Don’t take yourself so seriously.
Casually, he placed the test paper back on Pu Yu’s desk, his movements a bit forceful, stirring a faint breeze.
“Here.”
Xu Suiran was startled again, looking at him with confusion. “You… you finished reading it? How was it? Isn’t it exceptionally well-written?”
Yuan Su ignored her, pulling an old notebook from his drawer and opening it.
At the top of the page, he hastily scribbled the words “Letter of Self-Criticism.”
The pen tip paused there and didn’t move further.
The black pen spun between his fingers once, then reversed direction.
Xu Suiran whispered quietly to Pu Yu, “Why is your deskmate always so unpredictable? What did your essay do to upset him?”
But Pu Yu was lost in thought, watching the silent boy spinning his pen.
The atmosphere around him had clearly grown heavier.
Was it because of… that essay?
Or something else?
Pu Yu thought for a moment, tore a page from her draft notebook, wrote a few lines, and gently folded it.
She leaned over and lightly tapped Yuan Su’s arm with the cap of her pen.
No response.
She tapped again.
He turned his head, his brows still furrowed, a trace of lingering irritation mixed with confusion at being interrupted. “What?”
Pu Yu picked up the half-folded note and tentatively pushed it toward him.
“This is for you.”
Yuan Su frowned, staring at the paper for two seconds.
Then he reached out, took it, and unfolded it.
On it, written neatly in black ink, was an outline of the incident.
The handwriting was elegant and tidy:
【Letter of Self-Criticism
Respected Teacher Cheng:
Regarding the conflict with a classmate during the monthly exam and the act of tearing up the test paper, I hereby offer a profound reflection…】
At the bottom of the page, she had added a few extra lines in smaller script.
“If the word count isn’t enough, you can use a few more idioms or parallel sentences. You could also thank Teacher Cheng—she cares about you.”
Yuan Su held the paper, silent and unmoving.
Did she think he was an idiot?
Couldn’t even write a letter of self-criticism?
“I don’t think you can’t write it,” Pu Yu’s voice sounded softly, as if guessing his thoughts. “I share responsibility for this incident, so it’s only right to provide an account of what happened.”
Yuan Su stared into her innocent, clear eyes for a few seconds.
Suddenly, he felt rather foolish.
Why take things so seriously with a good student?
“…Oh.”
He turned his face away, his voice muffled.
Fine.
Since she was being so fair.
Yuan Su picked up his pen and, almost word for word, copied the elegant handwriting Pu Yu had written on the draft paper into the “account of the incident” section.
The pen tip scratched across the paper, making a soft rustling sound.
…
Early the next morning.
While Cheng Siyi was grading assignments in the office, Yuan Su knocked and walked in.
The youth was still wearing that faded school uniform, his backpack slung over one shoulder, his face expressionless.
“Self-criticism.” Brief and to the point.
Cheng Siyi glanced at him, somewhat surprised. “So punctual?”
Yuan Su gave a noncommittal “Mm” and turned to leave.
“Wait.” Cheng Siyi stopped him, picking up the self-criticism essay and unfolding it.
The first half was written with precise wording and clear logic, describing the incident in detail. It even carried a sincerity beyond her expectations, making him seem like a model student genuinely remorseful.
“I deeply realize that the examination hall is sacred. No matter what happens, violence should never be used to solve problems…”
Reading this, Cheng Siyi felt quite gratified, thinking the boy had finally come to his senses.
However—
Starting from the reflection on his actions.
The text visibly grew more “defiant.”
“Tearing up the exam paper was indeed wrong, I admit it. But if someone throws paper balls at the girl in front of me during an exam again, or tries to use those dirty tricks on unrelated people…”
“I’ll still tear it up.”
“I don’t think I was wrong. If I have to admit a mistake, it’s that I only had an exam paper in my hand at the time, not a brick.”
“Lastly, I hope certain invigilators will stop sleeping and not leave students to solve problems on their own. End of self-criticism.”
Cheng Siyi: “…”
The last few lines, with their stubborn “I’m not wrong, but I’ll give you face” attitude, made her both angry and amused.
“Yuan Su! What about the profound reflection earlier? What about ‘impulse is the devil’? So the first five hundred words were just to fool me? The latter part is your true thoughts?”
Yuan Su stood lazily, not even lifting his eyelids. “The first part was written for you, so you could hand it in. The latter part was for myself. One must be honest.”
“You—”
Cheng Siyi felt a throbbing at her temples.
She could see it now—those proper, well-behaved words earlier were probably taught by his top-scoring deskmate in essay writing.
“Fine, take your ‘honest’ attitude and get back to class.”
Cheng Siyi glanced at him coolly, saying with annoyance, “If you dare mention the word ‘brick’ again next time, I’ll make you move bricks for a day to experience it firsthand.”
For once, Yuan Su didn’t talk back.
Cheng Siyi looked at him. “Understood?”
“…Yeah.”
After Yuan Su left, Cheng Siyi picked up the self-criticism essay again.
Looking at those defiant lines at the end, she shook her head but couldn’t help smiling faintly.
She put the essay into a drawer and took out a blank seating chart.
As per routine, the class seating arrangement was adjusted at the beginning of each month. Yuan Su’s seat was always the easiest to assign—no need to consider deskmates, no need to coordinate relationships. He was always fixed in the corner of the last row.
Cheng Siyi still remembered the start of their second year of high school when she assigned Yuan Su a cheerful deskmate, thinking boys might have some common ground.
The next day, that boy’s mother stormed into the office and, in front of all the teachers, pointed at Yuan Su and shouted:
“A child from that kind of family deserves to sit with my son? His father is a gambler, his mother is mentally ill—are you trying to ruin my son’s future? How much money did the school take from his family?!”
That day, the sound of the argument echoed throughout the entire floor.
Yuan Su stood motionless at the office door, listening to the parents’ vulgar insults without any expression on his face, as if he had long grown accustomed to it.
Cheng Siyi was so angry her hands trembled, yet she still had to maintain her dignity as a teacher, repeatedly explaining that “a child should not be judged by their family.”
But it was useless—no one was willing to listen to her.
In the end, it was the grade-level director who stepped in, transferring her son to another class, and only then did the matter settle down.
From then on, Cheng Siyi never assigned Yuan Su a deskmate again.
It wasn’t that she agreed with those prejudices, but she had to admit that sometimes so-called “special treatment” would only subject the child to more scrutiny and pressure.
Those words were too harsh.
So harsh that even now, thinking back on them made Cheng Siyi’s chest feel tight.
Then Pu Yu transferred to the school.
There were no extra seats in the class, so she was temporarily assigned to sit with Yuan Su.
Originally, it was meant to be a temporary arrangement until the monthly exam, when a formal adjustment could be made. But after observing them for a while, the situation seemed… different?
Yuan Su, that kid, was even willing to write his reflection paper properly now.
Cheng Siyi put down her pen, rarely feeling so conflicted.
Was not assigning him a deskmate also a form of isolation in disguise?
It wasn’t until yesterday, when Pu Yu bravely stood up to speak for Yuan Su, that Cheng Siyi felt as if she had suddenly been awakened.
Why had she only called Yuan Su, even though both of them were in the same exam room, without thinking to ask Pu Yu to confirm?
She had always told herself it was to protect Yuan Su, but deep down, a voice asked: Had she really tried her best? Or had she, too, been subtly influenced by those prejudices, thinking this was better for him and everyone else?
Most importantly, she also had to consider Pu Yu.
Pu Yu’s math and science scores were average, and she was at a critical stage for improvement.
She couldn’t neglect one hardworking student for the sake of another who was a pity case.
Outside the window, the camphor tree rustled in the autumn wind.
Cheng Siyi stared at the seating chart and made a bold decision.