Chapter 2: Fei Yangyang, Push Him

Bullshit, when did I ever act like a yes-man!

Guo Ziyang froze for three seconds, his face flushing red as he glared back defiantly: “Besides, you’re only better than me at physics. If we’re being fair, we’re pretty much even.”

“Xu Qingzhou, I don’t get this problem—can you explain it to me?” Someone spoke from behind them.

Xu Qingzhou turned toward the voice.

The girl was very beautiful; her school uniform couldn’t hide her tall, slender figure, standing gracefully, her voice sweet as honey—pure youthfulness, far superior to those fake high school girls on short videos.

Her face gradually merged with the figure buried deep in Xu Qingzhou’s memory: Zhang Yuxin.

Several envious glances landed on Xu Qingzhou.

Xu Qingzhou was quiet by nature, with average grades—only physics stood out. Overall, he was mid-tier, the kind of student no one noticed in class, the kind teachers couldn’t remember after graduation.

Xu Qingzhou held down Guo Ziyang, who was about to give up his seat, and looked calmly at Zhang Yuxin. “Sorry, I’m still working on problems. No time. Ask someone else.”

Read! {

Just like the blurred textbook in his memory.

Chinese, math, English, science.

Zhang Yuquan stood awkwardly, shouting at the back of her: “Yuxin, let’s talk about the problem later.”

Once, at thirty-five, he won the Nobel Prize—earned it by burning his life out. Fate gave him another chance. This life, he wanted both his body and his honor.

“Xu Qingzhou, that’s unfair. Old Shen said yesterday in class—we’re in senior year now, we should help each other with questions, grow together. Even if you’re busy, you could at least be polite.”

“Yuxin.” Zhang Yuquan’s voice pleaded.

Guo Ziyang stared at the note on the scratch paper. At first glance, it made no sense—but upon closer thought, it felt profound, almost philosophical.

The “Fei Yangyang” meme didn’t exist yet. Everyone around looked utterly confused.

Zhang Yuxin didn’t move, glaring at Xu Qingzhou with resentment. The more she thought, the more unfair it felt—why was he chasing me? Why is he ignoring me now?

Whoosh—many classmates turned their attention toward them.

Reincarnating before the college entrance exam might be a nightmare for others, but for Xu Qingzhou, it was an opportunity.

Xu Qingzhou flipped idly through his Chinese textbook and spoke to Guo Ziyang: “Fatty, you know, a large part of everything in this world can be summed up in two things?”

“First thing: none of my business. Second thing,” Xu Qingzhou lifted his head, glancing at Zhang Yuquan, “none of your business.” Zhang Yuquan’s smile froze. Oh, so you’re just giving up now, huh.

Just as he was admiring it, his peripheral vision caught something—he jolted upright and sat properly.

The old Xu Qingzhou might’ve broken down, blushing furiously, offering up his noble self-respect again.

A new world’s door was opening.

!.

“There’s Fei Yangyang—why don’t you go over?” Xu Qingzhou closed his Chinese textbook, eager to distance himself from Zhang Yuxin.

“?”

“Showing off, that’s you,” Guo Ziyang sneered. He wanted to keep mocking Xu Qingzhou, but then remembered something. “Wait—why did you suddenly bring up Fei Yangyang?”

“Uh… you two talk, I’m gonna…” Guo Ziyang gave a knowing nod, rising to leave. “Huh?” Zhang Yuxin’s face showed stunned disbelief—Xu Qingzhou had always been eager to help her. “Xu Qingzhou, I really don’t plan to date in high school. Why are you forcing me? Can’t a boy and girl just be friends? Can’t we wait until college?”

Zhang Yuxin had transferred here only half a year ago, but her dance at the cultural festival made her a legend—her fame even surpassed the former class beauty, Song Yao.

[Fei Yangyang, Xi Yangyang’s out of energy—push him!]

“You misunderstood. I don’t want to date either—and I’m genuinely busy,” Xu Qingzhou said sincerely, then nodded politely and turned to check his desk books.

When did this guy get so slick?

Only then did Xu Qingzhou notice the strange atmosphere in the classroom. He looked up and saw a woman standing at the door, expressionless, her eyes like searchlights, scanning each student sharply.

Xu Qingzhou pulled out scratch paper and scribbled a line, then tossed it to his buddy.

“Holy shit, Zhouzi, you’re totally insane!” Guo Ziyang grabbed Xu Qingzhou’s shirt, furious. “You deserve to be single! Can’t you see? She’s giving you an opening! Try a little harder—you might actually get her!”

Zhang Yuxin and Xu Qingzhou? A flower stuck in cow dung.

The guy’s name is Zhang Yuquan—the top student in class, sometimes even the top in grade.

The first book was Chinese: the standard high school textbook, its cover featuring the Great Wall.

“Xu Qingzhou, you’re childish.”

Seeing Xu Qingzhou fumbling on his desk, not doing anything serious, Zhang Yuxin became even more certain—he was retaliating, deliberately ignoring her.

Zhang Yuxin threw down a remark and stormed off. To pretend indifference after being rejected? No manly spirit at all. Fine—let’s see who lasts longer. Who’ll apologize first?

She sounded wounded, her eyes nearly red. She only said she wouldn’t date in high school—she never said anything about college. If he tried harder, she might consider him. Some guys had been rejected seven or eight times and still didn’t give up.

“Cool.”

Someone who’s spent over a decade as a corporate drone shouldn’t fall into the trap of proving his innocence—that’s a wasted life.

Guo Ziyang had the typical student mindset—thin-skinned, flustered the moment everyone stared.

The boy adjusted his glasses, speaking softly, instantly labeling Xu Qingzhou as someone unwilling to help classmates.

With over a decade more experience, he was more mature and steady—not out for revenge, but not going to bend over backward either.

He suppressed his anger, turned to Zhang Yuxin, revealing his true intent: “Yuxin, I actually have time. If you have any questions, we can discuss them.”

Wherever she looked, students lowered their heads.

“Now, only studying brings me joy.” Xu Qingzhou brushed off his buddy’s hand, calm as ever, flipping through the pile on his desk and pulling out four stacks of exam papers.

“Huh? What?” Guo Ziyang turned around.

Liu Ying, their homeroom teacher—a woman in her fifties. He remembered she retired just a few years after graduation.

Liu Ying’s gaze swept across each student, locking eyes with Xu Qingzhou.

Xu Qingzhou? That kid’s honest enough, but his subject imbalance is terrible.

Hmm? They stared at each other—Liu Ying broke first, pretending nothing happened as she looked away.

(End of chapter)