Chapter 25: Past Memories

Hearing that unfamiliar yet familiar voice, Li Heng quickly turned his head.

Sure enough, a long-absent black figure crossed the road and arrived behind him.

Her name was Wang Run.

She was about twenty-six or twenty-seven, their Class 204 English teacher, and during high school she left two deepest impressions on her students:

One was her figure—extremely curvaceous, where it should be large, it was large; where it should be small, it was small—packed with allure, a frequent dream guest for many adolescent boys.

The second was her catchphrase: countless times in class, she’d tell students, “Next month I’m going to lose weight.”

Every time they heard her say she’d lose weight, many boys silently protested inside: Why lose weight? Perfect as is! Perfect as is!

In reality, her talk of losing weight was just talk—she said it and forgot it.

Over three years, she never lost weight, nor did she gain any—she remained exactly the same.

She treated Li Heng well, in a way without reason.

From the moment she began teaching him in first year of high school—less than three months—she started giving him private tutoring in English, and when traveling or on business trips, she’d occasionally bring back supplementary materials.

By second year, it had progressed to her sometimes inviting Li Heng over for meals at her home.

This excessive kindness stirred envy among everyone, yet plunged Li Heng into distress.

Because his English had been inherently weak since junior high, it was one of only two subjects he struggled with.

Uh, this weakness was relative—not that he was terrible; he wasn’t bad at all. He consistently scored around 96 out of 120 in Chinese, but never higher.

Compared to top students like Yang Ying, Xiao Feng, Chen Hanjie, Song Yu, Wang Jun, Mai Sui, and Xiao Han, he still lagged behind.

If not for his math, which was always unbeatable and nearly perfect every time, he might have been left far behind by them.

At first, as a boy from the countryside, he simply felt a natural discomfort toward such kindness, but didn’t sense anything unusual.

Until one day, Liu Yejiang joked with him in the dorm: “Li Heng, your English teacher’s single now. If you proposed to her, we all think you’d have a high chance of success.”

That one malicious joke struck Li Heng’s heart, leaving him deeply uneasy.

Why call it malicious?

Because Liu Yejiang was an excellent student, but fate played tricks—he always ranked just below Li Heng, constantly overshadowed, and over time, resentment grew. He constantly sought to outdo him.

Beyond academics, what angered Liu Yejiang most was hearing from close female classmates that his one-sided crush, Sun Manning, seemed to harbor feelings for Li Heng.

With all these grudges tangled together, he directly saw Li Heng as a rival—and a love rival!

Because of that seemingly joking remark, Li Heng began reevaluating his relationship with his English teacher. Truthfully, even without others saying anything, he himself felt they’d grown too close.

He’d even had moments of delusion: Does the teacher have feelings for me?

Though their relationship was innocent, the envious couldn’t help gossiping and teasing—once or twice was fine, but after too many times, he had to worry about his reputation.

After all, he was a country boy with little exposure to the world, only a teenager, unscathed by society’s harshness, and thus easily overwhelmed by rumors.

So for a while, he deliberately distanced himself from Teacher Wang Run.

During that time, in every English class, he either bowed his head to study or review other subjects, sometimes even feigning sleep or whispering—using every trick imaginable, yet refusing to pay proper attention.

Wang Run noticed all his changes, yet said nothing—until one monthly exam, when he scored only 61 in English.

61 out of 100!

What did that mean?

It meant missing out on a key university!

Not only did homeroom teacher Wang Qi panic, but other subject teachers grew anxious too.

After the exam, Wang Qi quickly sought out Wang Run to find out what had happened: Why had this sudden drop occurred?

Why had Li Heng’s English score plummeted so much?

In response, Wang Run pondered long, then said: “I’ll talk to him tomorrow.”

Because of Li Heng’s exceptional math, Wang Qi had always held him in high regard and placed great hopes on him; she immediately offered: “I’ll go with you.”

But Wang Run refused: “No need. I’ll speak to him alone.”

This was their second collaboration—they’d worked together for years, getting along well and trusting each other deeply.

At once, Teacher Wang Qi said: “Alright, talk to him first. If things improve, good; if not, we’ll figure something out together.”

It was a misty morning, a memory especially vivid.

When he returned to the classroom after morning calisthenics for morning self-study, the English teacher slowly circled the room, urging everyone to memorize vocabulary, sentence patterns, and texts, then came from behind the aisle to Li Heng’s desk in Row 4, Group 7.

Her finger silently tapped his open textbook, speaking just loud enough for him to hear:

“Come out with me.”

Seeing this, his deskmate Sun Manning asked worriedly: “Is it because of your grades?”

Li Heng nodded: “Probably.”

Sun Manning put down her pen and asked: “Are you still willing to be alone with her? Should I come with you?”

Hearing this, Li Heng—who had been hesitating—suddenly felt no doubt. He stood up and said: “No need.”

He knew Sun Manning had that confidence—because the principal of No. 1 High School was her father, by blood.

Under the gaze of all classmates, Li Heng walked out through the back door.

Perhaps sensing his unease, the English teacher didn’t wait for him in the office as usual—she stood on the corridor, visible through every window.

Wang Run rested both hands on the concrete railing, gazing down at the basketball court, saying nothing at first, waiting.

When his emotions calmed, she spoke: “Have the scores for other subjects come out?”

Li Heng nodded.

Wang Run asked: “What’s your math score?”

Li Heng answered: “148.”

Wang Run asked: “Which question did you get wrong? The last big one?”

Li Heng shook his head: “No, the final answer of the second big question was written sloppily—the grader mistook a 5 for an 8.”

Hearing this, Wang Run finally tore her gaze from the court and turned to him: “If you’d written neatly, it would’ve been full marks?”

Li Heng dared not meet her eyes, slightly shifting his gaze, and gave a quiet, noncommittal “Mm.”

After a pause, she asked: “Do you know your school ranking this time?”

Li Heng lowered his head: “My deskmate checked at the academic office and told me—29th.”

At this, Wang Run looked into his eyes, then gazed far into the horizon: “Is the 61 in English intentional?”

Li Heng answered: “No.”

Wang Run frowned: “Do you hate me?”

Before he could speak, she continued: “If you dislike my teaching style, I can apply to transfer you to another class—let the English teacher from Class 206 teach you.”

In this grade, there were four experimental classes: two for arts, two for science.

Arts: Class 204 and 205.

Science: Class 206 and 207.

Li Heng and Zhang Zhiyong were in Class 204.

Xiao Feng was in Class 205.

Yang Ying and Xiao Han were both in Class 207.

As for Yang Cheng, when they split classes in second year, his scores didn’t meet the cutoff—he sadly ended up in a regular arts class.

Of course, Zhang Zhiyong’s scores were also below standard, but his connections were strong.

Hearing this, Li Heng suddenly realized something—he snapped his head up and replied loudly: “Teacher, this was a mistake. Next time, I’ll do better.”

It was not what he’d expected.

Wang Run blinked, turned to him, and stared—she hadn’t expected him to change his mind. After a long moment, she smiled.

She gently patted his shoulder, reassured, and walked away.

After this conversation, they made peace.

The English teacher didn’t hold his past tricks against him; Li Heng no longer cared about others’ opinions—he acted openly, honestly, without shame.

He even used the same tactic his second sister had once used on him: he deliberately provoked Liu Yejiang with a flimsy excuse, then publicly beat him senseless—the source of all the rumors.

In Xiao Han and Yang Ying’s eyes, he’d been a troublemaker since seventh grade—his style was fixed: merciless and ruthless toward enemies, even breaking chair legs.

The beating sent Liu Yejiang to the hospital for eleven stitches.

Li Heng walked away unscathed; after the school investigated the full story, the disciplinary director gave him only a vague verbal warning.

PS: This book has a grand structure—I spent half a year planning it, with a combined outline and detailed outline totaling 70,000 words.

I want this book to follow a story-driven flow—every character appears tied to the core plot later on. I hope the masters will be patient, and that this final urban novel will turn out exactly as I envision, and as you all desire.

Also, many masters complain about infrequent updates—I’m innocent! I truly write over 4,000 words every single day.

How about this: from now on, I’ll aim for 5,000 words daily. More than that, I can’t manage. We small-time authors have no traffic exposure; during the new book phase, we must rely on recommendations, or we’ll sink into oblivion. I hope you understand the struggles of a humble writer like me.

I’ll burst with updates after subscription!

(One more chapter tomorrow at 12 p.m.)

(End of chapter)