In the past, Qie Song was a classic example of a useless “rich brat.” Despite attending a top-tier international school, his grades were as poor as mud. However, as the son of a school director, his powerful background ensured that he could still enter a top 10 global university as planned.
At most, he simply wasn’t placed in the elite Ivy Class, making his academic failure slightly less conspicuous.
However, a single class this morning seemed to set the ordinary Parallel Class on fire. Everyone began to think that Qie Song had been studying in secret and had finally decided it was time to show his true talent.
Inside the teachers’ office:
“Mr. Zhang, are you saying Qie Song was the one who solved this problem?”
“Yes, he did it. He finished this competition-level problem in just ten minutes. His logic and steps were perfectly aligned with the standard answer. You can tell his fundamental skills are very solid,” Mr. Zhang said while opening the shared system to check the class’s grades from the previous month.
He then realized the other teachers were watching him in silence.
Noticing their subtle glances, Mr. Zhang paused his hand on the mouse. “Is something wrong?”
“Mr. Zhang, as people who have been through this, we can only give you a small piece of advice: When dealing with that ‘young ancestor,’ you must adopt the philosophy of ‘Respect the fate of others, and let go of the urge to help.'”
Hearing the teacher at the next desk lean over to whisper this warning, Mr. Zhang adjusted his glasses, confused. “What’s wrong with Qie Song? He seems like a very smart kid.”
He was good-looking and had quick reflexes; he looked like a child with a very strong foundation.
The teachers in the office: “…”
Fine. They used to think so too. Eventually, they all felt that the phrase “Respect the fate of others, and let go of the urge to help” should be posted in the M-Class classroom as a motto for every teacher. Though, the students in that class didn’t actually need mottos.
The students of M-Class had their own unique methods of learning. They were a force the teachers couldn’t interfere with.
Mr. Zhang didn’t understand what they were getting at. He checked the class grades, and after looking, his brow furrowed. The grades for this class were a total mess.
The AP curriculum uses a 5-point grading scale. Each subject has a maximum of 5 points, with grade boundaries ranging from 1 to 5 based on the difficulty of the exam. There is no traditional “percentage” concept; you don’t need a perfect score to get a 5.
For example, a 64 on the AP Calculus BC exam could earn a 5.
The first person he looked for was Qie Song. This guy had selected the subjects needed for top universities, but he had a score of 1 in all of them. His raw scores in each subject were between 0 and 20. The results were too bad to look at.
His science scores were the worst. In Calculus BC, he was at the bottom of the 1-point boundary, with a raw score of 0.
“…”
Good grief. Was the person who just solved that incredibly difficult competition problem a ghost?
“Good luck, Mr. Zhang.”
Mr. Zhang felt a colleague pat his shoulder. He looked up to see a gaze full of pity. “?”
Well, it seemed he was teaching a class of losers.
AP G3-M Class:
The atmosphere in the back of the classroom was very strange.
The “F3” trio sat with their heads resting on their hands, all showing intense interest and curiosity toward Song, who was writing furiously in the middle. It was as if they were meeting their friend for the first time. They had agreed to slack off together, yet he had started studying in secret.
Now, he wouldn’t even go out when they asked him, which killed their mood entirely.
Suddenly, Ming Zhou raised his foot and kicked Lu’s chair. The chair scraped across the floor, making a sharp, piercing sound.
“Hey, Bei-huai Lu, did your master study in secret at home?”
Caught off guard by the kick, Lu’s body leaned to one side. He had just finished a set of problems, and the kick caused his pen to jerk across the page, tearing the paper because he had been pressing down so hard.
Seeing his paper ruined, Lu’s fingers tightened around his pen until his knuckles turned white, but his expression remained silent.
Only his tensed jaw betrayed his hidden emotions.
—Son, we can’t compete with these young masters. Don’t provoke them. Just endure it and it will pass, okay? Daddy is begging you, let’s just endure it.
“Tch.”
That single “tch” sounded very bold.
Song noticed that Lu’s test paper was ruined. He knew Lu worked seriously and kept his papers very clean. Seeing it destroyed like that made him angry.
Seeing that Lu still wouldn’t speak up, Song took a deep breath and glared at Ming Zhou in strict condemnation:
“You ruined his paper!”
As soon as he said it, he regretted it. He was so pathetic. As soon as he started an argument, his voice began to choke up. How embarrassing!
The boy, suddenly bursting into tears, slapped the desk. His wet eyes, filled with anger, glared at them. Since he had dyed his hair back, he looked even more harmless; crying now only made him look even less threatening and incredibly pitiful.
It made anyone feel like a villain for making him cry.
Seeing Song like this, Ming Zhou panicked instantly. His previous arrogance vanished, and he immediately dropped his proud attitude.
He pulled his chair forward to sit closer and tried to coax Song, softening his tone: “Song Song, why are you crying? I wasn’t even mean to you.”
“Why did you kick Bei-huai Lu’s chair? Can’t you just talk properly?” Song tried his best to stop his voice from trembling. He knew he was being “weak” again, but he was doing this to stand up for Lu. If he had “tear streaks,” then so be it.
“Apologize to Bei-huai Lu.”
Ming Zhou looked at Song in shock. “You want me to apologize to Bei-huai Lu?”
“Yes, apologize to him.” Song sniffed, his expression serious.
Ming Zhou rested his arms on his thighs, his face darkening. He frowned at Song, his voice dropping: “Qie Song, did the waves really break your brain? You want me to apologize to Bei-huai Lu? Who am I, and who is he?”
“Your language is so dirty.” Song had never had someone around him speak so crudely. He was scared but also annoyed, and the tears kept coming. An introvert’s rare bravery comes from reaching a breaking point. He choked out: “I’m not playing with you anymore!”
Immediately after saying it, his expression froze.
Those words became the source of immense shame that replayed in his head countless times before he went to sleep that night.
He really wanted to find a hole to crawl into right now.
—I’m not playing with you anymore.
That was something people said in kindergarten.
Great. This life was probably going to be very short. It was fine.
Ming Zhou looked at Song, whose face was red and covered in tears as he glared back in shame and anger. His eyes were naturally beautiful. They had always known Song was good-looking but he was never the type to cry. He was usually bossy and headstrong.
Seeing him like this gave Ming Zhou goosebumps, yet he couldn’t stop staring; he almost didn’t want him to stop crying.
He had never seen Song cry before, and it felt very strange.
Usually, he would have mocked him for being a “crybaby,” but today he couldn’t laugh. Instead, he felt a frantic sense of helplessness, afraid he had truly upset him.
So, this was what Song looked like when he cried. He looked like someone who was very easy to bully.
Song knew he was experiencing a social death by “breaking the pot,” and it would likely lead to a period of self-isolation. But for Lu’s sake, he pushed through and looked at Jingchu Xie and Tingsi Shen.
“You, and you. You both have to apologize to Bei-huai Lu.”
Jingchu Xie looked like he had been shot while lying down. “I didn’t make you cry! Scold Ming Zhou!”
Tingsi Shen shrugged in agreement. “I didn’t mess with your dog today.”
“No one is allowed to bully him anymore, including me. Bullying him is bullying me.” Song turned slightly, blocking Lu behind him. He glanced at Lu. “You can get angry if your paper is ruined. They only bully you because you don’t speak up.”
—Son, if the backpack is broken, it’s broken. Daddy will just patch it for you. Don’t go against the young master.
—Son, Daddy knows you’ve been wronged. Daddy is useless and sorry. Let Daddy fix your pants, okay?
—Son, Qie Song ruined your clothes again? Sigh, forget it. He’s a young master. We can only study here if we stay with him. We will be successful in the future. Just endure it, okay?
—Son, Qie Song is in poor health. Don’t always make him angry. You’re so big and strong; what if you hurt him? Just let him have his way, okay? If you make him like you, he won’t always lose his temper with you.
Lu’s hand holding the pen trembled ever so slightly. His tensed jaw held back his emotions.
Since he was a child, his father had taught him to endure so he could remain a driver for the Song family and so Lu could keep his spot at the school. He was taught to wait it out.
He knew a spot at this school couldn’t be bought for millions outside. From primary school to high school, he had followed Song here. If he finished his studies seriously, he would have a chance to go abroad, attend a world-renowned university, and get a large scholarship. His future could be changed.
But there was a price. He had to throw away his dignity. He had to endure all of Song’s moods. He had to turn himself into a dog, wagging his tail before Song.
He didn’t understand why his father wanted him to endure Song like this. Thinking of his father’s loving expression toward Song—Lu was the real son, wasn’t he?
—You can get angry if your paper is ruined. They only bully you because you don’t speak up.
—Bullying him is bullying me.
Can I get angry?
He looked sideways at Song, who was blocking him. Seeing the boy’s red eyes and his stubborn look. This guy was actually getting angry at the other three because of him.
It was absolutely impossible.
Could love really make someone this blind?
“Bei-huai Lu, I’m sorry,” Song said, taking a deep breath and looking at Lu.
Lu met those wet eyes. He frowned; seeing Song so serious that he actually cried, it seemed Song really liked him a lot.
Lu’s mood suddenly became very dark.
That “I’m sorry” was very clear in the classroom.
Other students in the room were looking over in shock. They hadn’t expected to witness this drama so clearly.
Song pointed at Ming Zhou and raised his chin, forcing his voice to stay steady. “Your turn.”
Ming Zhou frowned. He stood up, pushed his chair back, and walked out of the classroom with a dark expression.
Seeing things going south, Jingchu Xie grabbed Ming Zhou. “Ming Zhou, why are you being so serious?”
“I’m being serious? Ask him who’s being serious.” Ming Zhou kept his hands in his pockets and didn’t look back. His voice was full of dark annoyance. “If you want to play with this ‘simp,’ do it yourself. Leave me out of it.”
“Who’s a simp?!” Song couldn’t help but raise his voice at that.
“I am.” Lu grabbed Song’s arm. “Young Master, don’t ruin your friendship because of me. I’m not worth it. It’s okay.”
Song’s brow furrowed. “You don’t have to be a simp.”
Lu used the back of his hand to wipe a tear from the corner of Song’s eye. “I want to be your simp.”
Song: “…”
This useless guy! What is there to like about being a simp?!