Yan Xia walked into the classroom five minutes before the bell, and the room was in an uproar.
She returned to her seat and sat down quietly.
Jiang He was whispering with the people in the back row, not even glancing at Yan Xia, huddled together giggling and chattering away about who knows what.
Yan Xia glanced briefly around people eating snacks at their desks, others blatantly playing on their phones, a few in the back row loudly chatting… a whole den of demons dancing, noisy enough to give anyone a headache.
She pulled the books she’d need later out of her desk, grumbling inwardly: With a class atmosphere like this, can anyone actually learn anything?
The System, hearing her thoughts, popped up with a tip: “Host, if you’re unhappy with your current class, you can transfer classes by improving your grades.”
Yan Xia smacked her forehead, delighted: “Right, I can transfer classes!”
Their school, Hucheng No. 1 High School, had always had a decent college acceptance rate, with a strong teaching staff. It was an old, well-regarded school in the city.
In recent years, to motivate students, several new rules had been added, one of which was that before every major exam, classes would be reshuffled according to exam rankings.
She’d almost forgotten this setting from the book. It was all because the original female lead had poor grades and stayed in Class F until graduation, so this feature never got used.
Yan Xia rested her chin on her hand, thinking: “Since Shang Wandong is in Class A, if I test into Class A too, wouldn’t it be easier to Capture her?”
“But only the top fifty in the grade qualify for Class A,” the System objected. “The female lead has always been a bad student. Scoring that high all of a sudden—wouldn’t it be too suspicious?”
Yan Xia nodded. “You have a point.”
Raising her grades that dramatically could easily arouse others’ suspicion, and she might even be accused of cheating.
As she was mulling this over, a middle-aged man walked in the door. Looking at the chaos in the classroom, he seemed used to it, rolled up his sleeves, and rapped hard on the blackboard.
“Quiet down, all of you!” he shouted.
Droopy eyes, nasolabial folds, puffy eyelids… Yan Xia recognized these features. This must be their homeroom teacher.
The homeroom teacher taught Chinese, surnamed Liu, with an aged, sour-looking face. In his forties, he was already showing signs of going bald at the crown.
He unhurriedly set down his lesson plan, cleared his throat, and said loudly, “The midterm exam is in one week. Everyone, settle down and prepare properly!”
The clamor died, replaced by a chorus of groans.
“Another exam already? Feels like we just had one.”
“Doesn’t matter how we test, we’ll get crushed by the other classes anyway…”
“You’re all teenagers in your prime, full of drive and energy—how can you give up so easily?” Mr. Liu said, looking displeased. “For this exam, I hope certain students will take it seriously, answer the questions properly, and stop thinking about handing in blank papers and dragging the class down!”
With that, he gave Yan Xia a meaningful look—only to see her staring blankly ahead, miles away, clearly not listening at all.
This was a blatant provocation!
The homeroom teacher flew into a rage: “Yan Xia, stand up!”
Yan Xia didn’t react, sitting there blankly, mumbling something under her breath.
Jiang He gloated for a while before nudging Yan Xia’s arm, calling, “The teacher’s calling you!”
Yan Xia snapped back to attention and saw the balding teacher glaring at her darkly from the podium. “What, do I need to personally invite you to stand up?!”
Yan Xia: “…” How did she get caught just from talking to the System for a moment?
She obediently stood up and lowered her head.
Mr. Liu sneered. “What were you thinking about just now, so absorbed? Is this how you are in every class?”
The fact that Yan Xia was at the bottom of the class was so deeply ingrained that being mocked by teachers of every subject had become routine—it had even become one of Class F’s three great jokes: the balding teacher, Zhang Ying crying, and Yan Xia getting scolded.
Everyone else couldn’t wait to watch the show.
Yan Xia pushed up her glasses and answered honestly, “I was thinking about what score I’d get on the midterm.”
Mr. Liu: ?
You’d be lucky not to hand in a blank exam!
He shot back, “You’re that capable? Why don’t you make the top ten and show me?”
His intent was to mock her, but to his surprise, though Yan Xia’s expression was timid, her words were wildly audacious: “That’s not impossible.”
The class immediately burst into laughter. Even Mr. Liu was so furious he laughed, his small eyes narrowing into slits. “Well, well, aren’t you full of yourself!”
“Everyone heard it—Yan Xia says she’ll make the top ten this time!” As if he’d heard something novel, he loudly repeated it to the crowd, then turned to look at Yan Xia’s innocent face. “And what if you don’t make it?”
Yan Xia said, “Whatever you say goes.”
“Fine!” Mr. Liu laughed loudly and led the applause. “Everyone, learn from Yan Xia. Even though she has no real ability, she still has the grand ambition to daydream!”
He didn’t believe a word of Yan Xia’s “nonsense.” A bottom-ranked student making the top ten? Keep dreaming!
The class clapped along in a chaotic, half-hearted manner, suddenly full of anticipation for the midterm. Amid the thunderous applause, Yan Xia calmly sat down.
“Ding-dong! Positive Points +50.”
The System: “…Dear Host, aren’t you being a bit too flashy?”
“Not at all. Doesn’t this have that satisfying-novel flavor?” Yan Xia retorted. “I hadn’t even decided what rank to aim for, and he decided it for me. This is the classic setup—build up tension, slap down the cannon fodder, then everyone discovers the heroine was hiding her talents all along, and the clown turns out to be themselves… tsk tsk, peak satisfying-novel material!”
“Uh, that ideal is certainly ambitious,” the System said, “but have you considered what happens if you don’t make the top ten?”
Yan Xia paused. “Haven’t thought about it.”
The System: Damn it, I knew it!!
Seeing the System fret on her behalf, Yan Xia remained utterly unmoved and spent the entire Chinese class memorizing classical texts and ancient poems.
She had attended a well-known top-tier university in the capital, a school with rigorous academics, a heavy course load, and terrifying professors—especially the science program she’d been admitted to, which was basically hell mode. After four years of being drained dry by math and physics, high school science and math now read like fairy tales to her.
But the humanities were harder to recover. Four years had wiped her memory clean of everything she’d memorized in high school. The midterm covered half a textbook’s worth of passages, which would take some time to memorize.
The moment the bell rang, the balding teacher ended class right on time.
Yan Xia noticed that Class F rarely had classes run over, probably because the teachers had mentally given up on them by half.
She followed the crowd out of the classroom.
Yan Xia’s public persona was an Omega, so she could only head to the Omega restroom around the corner. Fortunately, the stalls here were all built as enclosed compartments, so she wouldn’t easily be found out.
Several sets of furtive footsteps sounded behind her, as if following her in.
Yan Xia finished up, gripped the stall door handle, and pushed outward—
It didn’t budge.
Outside came a few suppressed snickers, along with the sound of people shoving each other.
Yan Xia realized what was happening and was utterly speechless: …What a clichéd stunt. Is someone going to dump water on me next?
She remembered the original novel’s female lead being pranked like this—so she was probably just following the plot now. Typical melodramatic trash fiction from seven or eight years ago.
Outside, one of the girls stood on tiptoe atop a chair, holding a plastic bucket filled with dirty water.
The others below egged her on: “Hurry up!”
“Someone’s going to come in soon!”
The girl hesitated.
“Useless! If you won’t do it, get down!” someone below cursed.
Hearing this, the girl gritted her teeth and, wobbling, raised the heavy red bucket and dumped it down toward the door—
Splash! The dirty water poured into the stall, splattering everywhere.
The others looked gleeful, holding their breath and tilting their heads to listen for a while. Puzzled, one said, “Why isn’t there any sound?”
“Who cares, class is about to start,” another snickered. “Let her stay in there and cry.”
They released the door and walked out of the restroom, grinning.
Only after the footsteps had completely faded away did the stall door open.
Yan Xia walked out carrying a large black umbrella, expressionlessly spinning the handle in her hand.
She fumed, “Fifty points for an umbrella? Rip-off merchant!”
The System said solemnly, “Host, this is no ordinary umbrella.”
Yan Xia was skeptical. “Really? Does it have some special function?”
“It’s not just an umbrella,” the System paused. “It’s also a parasol!”
Yan Xia: “…Just shut up.”
The System hurriedly added, “Wait, I’m not done. It doesn’t just block UV rays—it blocks infrared too. Most importantly, the material is tough; ordinary blades can hardly damage it.”
Yan Xia looked at the black umbrella in her hand, her feeling of being swindled slightly soothed. “I guess it’s somewhat useful. Put it away for me first.”
She walked a few steps forward, saw the plastic bucket at her feet, and stopped.
The bucket looked like it hadn’t been used in a long time—filthy, carelessly discarded on the floor after the water was dumped, its metal handle rusted.
Yan Xia made a mental note and returned to class.
When she appeared at the doorway completely intact and spotless, several girls’ faces changed on the spot.
Jiang He came over to look her over and asked, “Yan Xia, what took you so long?”
Yan Xia sat down and shook her head. “Something happened.” She lowered her eyes to look at Jiang He and suddenly asked, “Why are your fingers red?”
Jiang He froze, curling her fingertips in awkwardly. “I don’t know. Maybe I touched something.”
Yan Xia nodded calmly, looked away, and said nothing more.
After an afternoon of lugging around her Chinese textbook, she finally made it to the end of the school day. She rode back to the villa with Shang Wandong and Yan Siqiu.
Yan Siqiu didn’t throw another tantrum—probably realizing that no one would side with her no matter what happened. Her expression was utterly dead inside.
But after dinner, wearing a fitted nightgown, hair loose, clutching a test paper, she stopped in front of Shang Wandong’s room.
Yan Xia, who was just heading to the kitchen to grab a bottle of warm milk, stopped in her tracks at the sight and hid behind the door to watch in secret.
Yan Siqiu didn’t notice Yan Xia. She smoothed her hair, deliberately showing off her slender, sexy collarbones, struck an utterly innocent pose, and knocked on the door.
The door opened quickly. Shang Wandong: “Something wrong?”
Yan Siqiu widened her pretty eyes, putting on a pitiful look: “Wandong, there’s a problem I don’t understand. Can I come in and ask you about it?”
Shang Wandong didn’t refuse outright, only asking: “Which one?”
Seeing her chance, Yan Siqiu was overjoyed and said sweetly: “Let’s go inside to talk, it’s not convenient here.”
Shang Wandong didn’t agree, holding the door firmly in place: “No need. We can talk right here.”
Yan Siqiu’s face fell. She peered past Shang Wandong’s shoulder into the room, unwilling to give up: “But…”
Shang Wandong simply took the test paper from her hands and glanced over it briefly: “Which one?”
Yan Siqiu had no choice but to point reluctantly at a random problem. Shang Wandong stood at the doorway and explained the full solution, then asked: “Did you understand?”
Yan Siqiu feigned confusion: “I don’t get it. Can you explain it a few more times?”
Shang Wandong stared at her, then suddenly said: “This is a basic question. If you can’t understand it after one explanation, you might have serious problems on this exam.”
Yan Siqiu froze, an idea sparking in her mind. She grabbed Shang Wandong’s arm and shook it, seizing the moment to act cute: “I really am quite hopeless at it. Would you have time to tutor me, Wandong?”
Shang Wandong pulled her hand back, utterly cold: “No.”
Yan Xia nearly collapsed laughing at those words, and even Yan Siqiu was momentarily speechless.
Shang Wandong added: “But I’ll tell Aunt Zhao to arrange a tutor for you.”
Tell Zhao Daiman? That would be disastrous! Yan Siqiu’s expression shifted several times before she could only force a smile: “N-no need, Wandong. I just thought it over again, and I understand now.”
Shang Wandong’s face showed gratification: “Congratulations.”
Yan Siqiu thought: Is it just me, or is she looking down on my intelligence?
She had nothing left to say: “Then… I’ll go now.”
Shang Wandong replied: “Okay. Goodnight.” With that, she shut the door with lightning speed.
Having been turned away at the door three times in one day, Yan Siqiu’s face was black as the bottom of a pot. She turned and stomped off, her footsteps thundering on the floor.
Yan Xia, who had witnessed the whole thing, nearly laughed herself breathless.
Still, Yan Siqiu had inspired a new idea in her—Yan Xia was a genuinely hopeless student too. If she used that to get close to the top student Shang Wandong, might it work?
After a moment’s thought, she resolutely knocked on Shang Wandong’s door as well.
Soon the door opened. Shang Wandong looked down, and there seemed to be no surprise on her face at the sight of her.
She was always expressionless with everyone, but perhaps because of the bright desk lamp behind her, a layer of warmth was reflected in her dark eyes.
“Something wrong?”
Yan Xia nodded. “Do you have time? I want to ask you a few questions.”
“I do.” Shang Wandong looked at her. “Which ones?”
Yan Xia unfolded the blank test paper in her hands: “All of them.”
The air went silent for a second.
Yan Xia gazed at her hopefully and added: “I’m not joking. You know how bad I am at studying.”
“I know.” Shang Wandong nodded and stepped aside. “Come in and ask.”
Yan Xia froze, her heart even starting to race.
No way? It’s that easy?!
“C-Can I come in?” she asked, suppressing her excitement, cautiously. “It won’t offend you, will it?”
“No.” Shang Wandong’s voice was calm. “But if you want to talk standing at the door, that would naturally be best. It’s just that it would be very tiring, there are a lot of questions.”
Yan Xia’s heartbeat instantly calmed: …Damn it, that’s so you.