“Tsk, the new student is probably just passing through for one round. Ostrich squinted at him twice—his chemistry is definitely doomed,” a student in the front row whispered.
“But didn’t they say he scored 140 in math? Sister Yun should keep him… right?”
“Damn it, is no one curious about who scored 147 in math?”
The last chemistry problem was extremely difficult. Xu Yichen’s face flushed red from thinking so hard, and he still hadn’t recovered. He didn’t even notice that his desk drawer had been rummaged through by the person next to him.
“Freak! 137 in math!”
“Keep your voice down,” another person leaned over. “So who’s the cheater who scored 147?”
“Not the class monitor, and not Xu Yichen either. Must be Jiang Wenyan.”
“It’s not Jiang Wenyan. Jiang Wenyan scored 139 in math.” Li Yun, who had been chatting with the chemistry teacher, suddenly chimed in. After the commotion in the classroom died down, she picked up the chalkboard eraser and tapped it loudly against the board. “Everyone, settle down. We still have a history test later.”
“I’ll go over the test papers tomorrow. And Lu Xingheng, come with me for a moment.”
Li Yun’s office was located at the corner of the third floor. The air conditioning was set very low, and only a few teachers were scattered around, grading papers.
“You’re planning to live on campus, right? I’m fairly familiar with your situation.” Li Yun tapped the desk. “Let the past stay in the past. Since you chose to transfer schools, it’s a chance to give yourself a fresh start.”
“Whether it’s your previous homeroom teacher’s evaluation of you or even your own assessment of the past… from now on, it’s all turned over.”
“I don’t know what others think, but as far as I’m concerned, you’re an excellent student.”
Lu Xingheng remained calm throughout. His eyes were half-lowered, as if he were listening attentively yet also indifferent. “Thank you, teacher.”
Li Yun patted Lu Xingheng’s shoulder. “That’s great. After all, not everyone has the courage to start over.”
“Your main subject scores are outstanding. If we ignore the minor subjects, you’d rank in the top three in our class. Staying here definitely won’t be a problem.” Li Yun handed Lu Xingheng a key. “This is the key to Room 349. For now, you’ll have to share a room with the class monitor.”
Lu Xingheng took it.
“The boys in our class are all in four-person rooms, but the class monitor has been living alone. It’s an awkward time right now, and we couldn’t find an empty dorm room on such short notice…” Li Yun frowned slightly, as if unsure how to phrase it. “Are you sensitive to heat?”
Lu Xingheng answered truthfully, “It’s fine.”
“The class monitor is a bit sensitive to the cold. Try not to turn on the air conditioning at night.” Li Yun lowered her voice. “If it’s really unbearable, you can secretly buy a fan. Our school’s power supply standards should definitely be sufficient.”
Jiang Wan had a good temper. If Lu Xingheng insisted on turning on the air conditioning at night, he definitely wouldn’t stop him.
The more Li Yun thought about it, the less reassured she felt. She unplugged her own small fan and shoved it into Lu Xingheng’s hands. “Try not to turn on the air conditioning if you can help it.”
The power supply standards were definitely sufficient, but the dorm room Li Yun described as having only one occupant wasn’t quite accurate.
When Lu Xingheng entered, the dorm room door was open.
The room was spacious, with bunk beds. Two desks were placed in the middle, each with belongings on them, and each bed had curtains draped around it.
Jiang Wan stood by the window, holding four or five pills in his hand. Without even looking, he swallowed them all.
The curtain on the lower bunk was pulled aside slightly. Jiang Wenyan reached out and grabbed at the air, his voice heavy with sleep. “When did you get back…”
Jiang Wan: “Go back to sleep.”
Jiang Wenyan groggily sat up. “What did the infirmary say?”
Jiang Wan replied seriously, “The infirmary can’t speak—”
“How did you get here?”
Jiang Wan looked toward Lu Xingheng by the door.
“Boarding.” Lu Xingheng jingled the keys in his hand.
Jiang Wan understood. “Oh.”
Jiang Wenyan was so startled he uttered two inverted sentences in a row. “What! Is there even room for another person in our dorm?”
“Hold on a second.”
Lu Xingheng: “…”
“There’s room.” Jiang Wan walked over. “Need help?”
“No.”
“Upper bunk or lower bunk?”
“Either.”
“Then sleep on the floor.”
Lu Xingheng: “…”
The dorm really didn’t need the air conditioning turned on.
Jiang Wenyan: “…That joke of yours is so cold. Does he even have a choice between upper and lower bunk?”
“Only the upper bunk is left. We sometimes turn on the air conditioning,” Jiang Wenyan pointed at Jiang Wan. “He’s too delicate, especially afraid of the cold. He sleeps in the innermost lower bunk. You can take the upper bunk above him.”
Jiang Wan: “You can switch bunks if you want.”
Lu Xingheng: “When I came, the homeroom teacher told me this dorm only had one person living in it.”
“They insisted on squeezing in with me.” As he spoke, Jiang Wan used a bit of force to pull Jiang Wenyan off his bed. “And now they’re still hogging my bed.”
Seemingly reminded of something, Jiang Wenyan looked furious. “If we hadn’t moved in, you could’ve been dying of pain in here alone and no one would’ve known.”
“Your stomach hurt so badly, yet you didn’t say a word, as if you were waiting to die in there.”
Jiang Wan: “Why bring up old grudges now…”
Jiang Wenyan was still angry. “Seems like it wasn’t painful enough that day. Why didn’t you just die already?”
Even facing such harsh words, Jiang Wan’s voice remained gentle. “Enough, Jiang Wenyan.”
“Still not done being angry?”
Jiang Wenyan said coldly, “No. In any case, you can’t live alone.”
Lu Xingheng wasn’t particularly concerned, only remarking, “Is this arrangement compliant with the rules?”
“It’s fine.” Jiang Wan pushed the textbooks and clutter on the desk forward, clearing half the table for Lu Xingheng. “Two people share one desk.”
“Don’t worry, we’re not dragging you into a den of thieves.” Jiang Wan added, “The dorm supervisor knows.”
Lu Xingheng glanced at the curtain hanging on the upper bunk. “Are you sure no one’s up there?”
“No one.” Jiang Wan tugged at the curtain with the brown bear pattern. “I bought it for my brother back then. I thought all kids would like it, but he absolutely refused it.”
“I thought it’d be a waste, so I hung it up as decoration.”
For no particular reason, Lu Xingheng glanced at the lower bunk. The curtain there had a kitten pattern. When Jiang Wenyan got up, the curtain was pulled open slightly, revealing a small bear lying neatly on the bed.
Jiang Wan followed his gaze. “You like it?”
Lu Xingheng: “Sorry?”
“What?” Jiang Wan didn’t mind and directly scooped up the little bear, handing it to Lu Xingheng. “A housewarming gift.”
The bear was fluffy and adorable.
“Jiang Wan.” Jiang Wan explained, “The Jiang with the water radical, and Wan as in ‘sun’ and ‘free’.”
Lu Xingheng’s Adam’s apple bobbed slightly. He hadn’t noticed before, but when Jiang Wan smiled, there was a very faint dimple, subtle yet distinct.
“Lu Xingheng.”
Jiang Wan: “Which ‘heng’?”
“The ‘heng’ with the jade radical.”
Jiang Wan nodded, then suddenly asked, “Your name has quite complicated strokes. Could you write it when you were little?”
Lu Xingheng: “…Yes.”
Jiang Wan gestured with his hand. “At first, I thought it was the ‘heng’ from ‘little crab’.”
Lu Xingheng said in a flat tone, “That one has more complex strokes.”
“…”
How did the conversation just die like that? Jiang Wan touched her neck and turned to Jiang Wenyan, the first member of the atmosphere team, for help.
But the atmosphere team member was still sulking and clearly wouldn’t pay Jiang Wan any attention.
Jiang Wan pursed her lips lightly and extended the little bear forward again. “Here.”
Lu Xingheng opened his mouth but ultimately couldn’t refuse, accepting the first gift he’d received in this unfamiliar city.