Chapter 238: Yu Yu

"Luo Yong, six votes!"

Gazing at the five large "正" characters on the blackboard, the boy's face was expressionless, a self-mocking smile tugging at his lips.

Clenching his fist so tightly that the slightly sharp nails dug into his flesh, bringing a piercing pain.

Luo Yong, six units of Dou Li. Not enough.

Not enough, bro.

Six votes?

Even Luo Yong himself was stunned—over sixty active dads in the class. He'd bribed four people to vote for him, and still only got six votes?

Too bad he wasn't Xiao Yan; no one in class even discussed him, let alone mocked him.

No one paused to mourn Luo Yong's defeat—they rushed straight to the battlefield for Yu Zhiyi's 28 votes!

Since everyone in class held favor cards, and after excluding all favor cards, then subtracting the girls' votes, what's left is color.

Pfft, what's left is public opinion.

The result was a foregone conclusion—Yu Zhiyi was elected class psychological officer by a landslide.

"Sigh, I did my best. Didn't expect this outcome," Jiang Nian muttered to himself, his expression gloomy.

He seemed to stand with his back to all living beings, deciding fate across millennia, suffering for his brother's failure. He didn't understand why this happened—of course, he hadn't voted at all.

"Luo Yong got so few votes," Zhang Nengzhi sighed, then turned to Jiang Nian and comforted him, "Don't be upset—you did your best."

Jiang Nian glanced at Zhang Nengzhi, nodded, then turned to look at Li Hua.

"Hua, any idea what's going on?"

Li Hua propped his head on his hand, rubbing his face with one hand, afraid he'd accidentally blurt out a comment.

"Ah, uh, I'm not really sure."

Ding dong!

"Students, class is over!"

After the first evening self-study session, Yu Zhiyi felt a faint, hazy excitement.

The election result matched that bastard's prediction almost exactly—she'd won smoothly. Just then, Zhou Yuting and the others came over to speak to her, and she rose naturally.

Her peripheral vision caught the doorway—she saw the whole group rushing out.

Yao Bei Bei happened to be free, so she linked arms with Zhang Nengzhi and headed downstairs together.

Ma Guojun thought: you four all went—why didn't you take me?

So Li Hua paid the bill with tears in his eyes.

But whenever he thought of Yu Zhiyi becoming psychological officer, he couldn't help straightening his chest. Never mind anything else—he himself was now feeling a bit yu yu because of Jiang Nian.

Hee, I'll ask the psychological officer tonight.

In the stream of people descending the stairs.

Lin Dong didn't want to buy snacks alone after self-study, so he wheedled and cajoled Sun Zhicheng into coming out.

He patted Sun Zhicheng's shoulder and comforted him.

"Ah Cheng, cheer up—how's anyone gonna see you in this darkness?"

"I want to die."

Sun Zhicheng sighed, staring at the crowded night playground. He couldn't help thinking of that one guy who only dared go out on Halloween—now he understood the man's pain.

Could only darkness grant him dignity?

Outside the school store.

Lin Dong took a few steps, then realized no one was following him.

He looked bewildered, turned back to search for Sun Zhicheng—and found he hadn't even approached the store. He stood far away, at the edge of a basketball hoop shrouded in shadow.

"What are you doing?" Lin Dong walked over and asked.

In the darkness, Sun Zhicheng shook his head.

"Too bright."

"What?"

"Dong Ge," Sun Zhicheng's voice was pained, melancholy, "I'm a man who can't face the light—I can only survive in the shadows."

Lin Dong was dumbfounded. "Aren't you just a sewer rat?"

"Sewer rat? That's perfect," Sun Zhicheng hugged the cold basketball hoop, sobbing, "So damn right, bro—it's literally me! A sewer rat!"

"After cutting this hairstyle, what's the difference between me and an idiot?"

"Uh," Lin Dong hesitated.

He'd actually wanted to say: even if you didn't cut this shitty haircut, you'd still be...

Forget it—he was afraid Sun Zhicheng might actually jump off the stairs after going up.

"Ah Cheng!" He slapped Sun Zhicheng's shoulder with one hand, speaking solemnly, "Just wear a hoodie with a hood tomorrow."

Caps weren't allowed in class, but if the hood was part of the clothing, no one cared.

After all, it was already November—the cold was setting in. Say it's cold, ask again and you start shivering—no one would dare stop you.

Hearing this, Sun Zhicheng's eyes lit up.

"That's a great idea!"

Then he hesitated, frowning.

"Will that even work?"

"Of course it will," Lin Dong mumbled, "Who's that guy in class who's always dark and reclusive? Look—has any teacher ever said anything?"

"Yeah, that makes sense," Sun Zhicheng relaxed.

He looked at the brightly lit school store, packed with students, and a calm smile spread across his face. Compared to darkness, light suited him better.

The two of them walked into the convenience store together, and when paying, the shopkeeper pressed a price number.

"Six yuan."

She looked up and burst out laughing.

"Haha."

Sun Zhicheng wished he could crawl into a crack in the ground, swiped his meal card, and ran off. Lin Dong hadn't come out yet, so he had to return again to the darkness beneath the basketball hoop and wait.

Watching the stream of people entering and leaving the convenience store, he felt like a rat that couldn't bear the light—his disguise torn open by the shopkeeper, exposed under the sun. A tear slid down his cheek; he truly wanted to kill the apprentice's horse.

Suddenly, Sun Zhicheng heard a familiar voice. He turned to look and saw Jiang Nian and the other five of them—his spirits sank even further.

Once upon a time, he and Lin Dong, Chen Yunyun, and the others had been just like that.

A small group—not one that isolated the whole class and acted aloof, but rather a loose little collective.

Like Jiang Nian and his group, who occasionally gathered to go to the cafeteria or the convenience store because they got along well.

But ever since he developed feelings for her, everything had been ruined.

Although he used the classic excuse of "a cousin misunderstanding," the relationship had reverted to its original state. The little collective grew even looser, nearly splitting in two.

Fortunately, Lin Dong was well-liked within the group and could serve as the link connecting Chen Yunyun and Wang Yuhe.

Not long after, Lin Dong came out.

"A Cheng, why are you hiding here again?"

"Life isn't worth living," Sun Zhicheng sighed. "Brother Dong, I don't want to go to school anymore. I want to find a temple and retire from the world."

Lin Dong was baffled—he thought hair would grow back in one or two months, how had this turned into retiring to a temple?

After thinking for a moment, he had a sudden idea.

"Hey, why not ask the class psychologist?"

Hearing this, Sun Zhicheng froze. Of course! The class psychologist was Yu Zhiyi.

Thinking of how patiently she had comforted him, he straightened his back—she was the class psychologist he had voted for!

During evening self-study, after returning to the classroom.

Jiang Nian turned to look at Zhang Nenzhi; the girl was sipping water slowly from her cup.

"You can't eat that many fish balls anyway."

At this, Zhang Nenzhi turned her head and pouted.

"I'm dieting."

"Tsk, I'd rather have Yao Bei Bei," Jiang Nian said, raising an indifferent eyebrow. "She ate four skewers—Li Hua wanted to kneel before her."

"Chishi!" Li Hua, who had been listening the whole time, pointed a finger. "Defamation! Besides slandering me, what else can you do?"

Jiang Nian: "I like telling little lies."

Zhang Nenzhi bit her lip, trying to smile, but afraid her unscrupulous desk mate would see. So she picked up her pen, leaned on the desk to solve problems, the tall stack of books like a shield along her battle line.

Before, there was little amusement to be had—before promotion, burying yourself in study would get you isolated. Whether active or passive, you had to manage your interpersonal relationships.

Now, though the class was a bit nuts, it was actually fun.

Thinking about it, she unconsciously wrote a "Jiang" character on her scratch paper. Then she suddenly snapped to attention, frantically blacking out the character, and stole a glance at him.

Fortunately, Jiang Nian was also hunched over doing problems, not spying.

Zhang Nenzhi exhaled in relief, then wondered: could he recognize the pictograph? How was the pictograph for "Jiang" written again?

Her pen touched the paper, and three water radicals appeared.

That didn't seem right.

She bent down, pulled out a copy of the Shuowen Jiezi she had bought—originally because the cover was pretty and the illustrations abundant, she'd bought it on impulse.

The last few pages of the little booklet seemed to have a chart showing the evolution of Chinese characters.

Zhang Nenzhi flipped through it like a thief, found the character "Jiang" by pinyin, scanned it, and decided the small seal script version looked the most beautiful.

So she carefully traced it, then searched for the pictograph of the character "Nian."

In oracle bone script, "Nian" was a combination of a person carrying grain on their back—because grain ripened once a year, it came to represent time.

She was deeply focused on tracing it when suddenly a voice came from beside her ear.

"Studying Chinese during physics self-study? I'm reporting you."

Zhang Nenzhi froze, holding her pose, forcing herself to stay calm.

"I'm just browsing."

"Still arrested. I'll tell the physics teacher later," Jiang Nian said, having just finished a problem and noticing his desk mate wasn't doing anything productive. "What are you writing? Let me see."

He glanced at it, his expression puzzled.

"What's this?"

"Nothing," Zhang Nenzhi sighed in relief—thank goodness her desk mate was uneducated.

She had covered the "Jiang" character first—the one most easily recognizable—so Jiang Nian only saw the oracle bone script for "Nian," which he couldn't identify at all.

"Drawing talismans?" Jiang Nian asked curiously.

Zhang Nenzhi immediately turned her head away, ignoring him.

"You're the one drawing talismans."

She didn't want to say more, afraid he'd guess the true meaning behind the character shapes.

After the second evening self-study session, only he remained at the sixth group's desk.

Li Hua had gone over to Yu Zhiyi's side to watch the commotion—the new class psychologist had just taken office. Several people were gathered around, mostly joking and pretending to be "cute."

Zhang Nenzhi and Yao Bei Bei had gone out together; the class monitor in the back row was gone too—leaving Jiang Nian all alone.

He pulled out his phone and logged into Le Zhi's alternate account to check messages.

Since adding Zhou Yuting and Yu Tongjie's alternate accounts last week, he hadn't logged in for nearly a week—this account's purpose was limited to just before the next Six-City Joint Exam.

About half a month of time remained.

Even so, Jiang Nian still chose to fish at an unhurried pace.

The QQ chat page — the latest messages were stuck at three or four days ago. Zhou Yuting and Yu Tongjie had each, one after another, sent over a dozen messages to this alt account.

He first tapped open Yu Tongjie's chat page and scrolled the chat history back to last week.

(End of this chapter)