Chapter 68: When the Book Is Needed, One Regrets Its Scarcity

Evening self-study, Jiang Nian picked up his clothes and sniffed them.

yue~

"Hua, do I smell a bit sour?"

"You don't smell sour, it's just… I'm kinda sleepy, going to the bathroom to finish my test." Li Hua sat perched on the edge of his chair, so close he could kiss someone from the next group if he turned his head.

"Go ahead, go ahead—take your chopsticks." Jiang Nian spoke, then grew uncertain, turning to his other desk partner, "Hey, can you smell my sweat?"

Zhang Nenzhi looked up, stared at him for two seconds, then shook her head in confusion.

"Nope, why?"

"Nothing, I was just saying… it couldn't be that bad, I only ran eight laps." Jiang Nian immediately relaxed—he knew Baby Zhizhi would never lie.

But Li Hua? That piece of shit might.

Is that too harsh on him?

Screw it, I'm the little emperor.

On the other side, Yu Tongjie of Group One spent the entire evening self-study period finally figuring it out.

Li Qingrong was still the same rigid Li Qingrong—she didn't care about people, only coldly stated solutions.

Like, if you have a cold, drink more hot water.

Compared to saying soft, pretty words, people like Li Qingrong preferred to directly propose solutions. As for face? That wasn't something she considered.

So, don't force yourself to keep pace, quit if you can't hold on, your body matters most.

Triple concern!

Though the words weren't pleasant, set aside face and be honest with your conscience—these three suggestions struck right at the core of what he needed.

Better to maintain your own pace, run slowly and steadily to the finish, than to blindly chase the rhythm, explode your lungs, and collapse on the track.

Perfect answer—fits her character!

So warm.

Prove my contribution to the class… oh no. More accurately, the sacrifice I made to ease her troubles—she'll remember it.

Yu Tongjie ran through the logic several times, each time finding it more reasonable. But to be safe, he decided he needed to verify—his method: observation.

He strained his ears, listening carefully through the noisy evening self-study for the voice of the student two rows ahead: Li Qingrong.

Desk partner: "Monitor, I did terrible on yesterday's English quiz!"

Li Qingrong: "Memorize more vocabulary."

Perfect, confirmed.

Yu Tongjie looked up, suddenly feeling capable again.

The monitor cares equally for all classmates—she's just thinking of the class's interests. I've shed my old impression—why not try harder?

Besides, I already signed up for the 3000-meter. The sunk cost is right there.

Should I retreat, clinging to my old reputation as a rumor-spreader? Or should I push forward, do something to change things—even if only to leave a good impression?

Take on more class duties—even without an official title, being the backbone of Class Three isn't bad.

There's plenty of time ahead. My father said life is long—who ends up smiling isn't certain. From family background, social standing, and demeanor, my odds are high.

Tuan Cang Bao wins.

Final period of evening self-study.

Biology teacher Zhong Qing sat at the podium grading test papers; she'd been pondering for days, wanting to cultivate a promising student as a positive example.

But doing it privately would look biased.

Not only would the student union complain, but in the office, people would gossip: "Ooh, so eager to show off? Workplace hustle, huh? Sima Biao, punch your mom."

Plus, if I start it myself and then fizzle out, it'll be messy to end. If I later find it ineffective and just cancel it, I'll hurt students' self-esteem.

Though new, she thought things through carefully. Better to wait for the Academic Affairs Office to lead—she'd heard from the head of the biology department they were already arranging it.

Zhong Qing wanted to be a non-sticky pot—achieving her goal without offending anyone.

Thinking this, she lifted her gaze toward Jiang Nian in the second row.

A promising student.

I wonder about his mental resilience—can he handle pressure? How are his grades in other subjects? If the workload's too heavy, will it hurt his other scores?

Little boys care about face, especially in front of pretty female teachers.

Zhong Qing knew her own appearance well; when choosing a candidate, she considered this, trying to find a student without appearance anxiety.

Otherwise, if the student becomes a "Qing Party," obsessively studying biology and becoming severely unbalanced, parents would complain—and the homeroom teacher would come talk to me.

Will Jiang Nian become a Qing Party?

Zhong Qing stared at Group Six for too long—half a minute.

Li Hua trembled, thinking he'd been caught rewatching "Running Toward the Sun in Grand Escape." Don't blame him—he was itching to watch it again, but wanted to save it for later…

Zhang Nenzhi's body stiffened, too afraid to look up. When they switched seats, the biology teacher had seemed to notice her—she felt completely exposed.

Huang Fang didn't notice, never looked up. Wu Jungu frowned, lost in thoughts about his girlfriend's troubles—she wanted to switch from commuting to boarding—also didn't look up.

Ceng You immediately put away his phone, doing three fake motions in one second.

Jiang Nian had already copied his homework—did what needed doing, copied what needed copying. He looked up and met Zhong Qing's gaze, instinctively adjusting his hair.

Seeing this, Zhong Qing withdrew her gaze.

Good. No shame.

He's the one.

Jiang Nian didn't know he'd become the "chosen child"—he was still wondering whether it would rain tomorrow, and if that would cancel PE class.

He doesn't play ≠ he can skip class. With formulas, solving problems is fast.

Ding ding ding.

After evening self-study, Jiang Nian made his way with familiar ease to meet up with Xu Qianqian.

"Did you sign up for any events for the sports meet?" He scratched his face and asked casually, "I signed up. You could consider putting on a JK uniform, give me some attack speed."

Strangely, Xu Qianqian didn't make a sound.

The two of them were mixed into the crowd heading downstairs, with only the last flight of stairs left before the teaching building's exit. All around was bustling and noisy; in the corridor, students were chatting and laughing loudly.

The white incandescent lights overhead shone down, their shadows covering the entire staircase.

Jiang Nian thought it was strange and turned to glance at her.

"Are you giving me the silent treatment!"

Xu Qianqian pressed her lips together, all the way until they walked out of the teaching building and got a bit further from the great army of students heading home. Only then did she let out a breath and say in a low mood.

"I took leave for the sports meet, going back to the hometown with my dad."

Hearing this, Jiang Nian was stunned, suddenly realizing something. Old Xu had a million chickens a day to attend to—if he could spare three days from his busy schedule to go back to the hometown, it could only be for one thing.

Counting it out, it seemed to be around these few days.

Suddenly, Jiang Nian didn't know how to continue either.

"Mm."

The atmosphere along the way was a bit heavy, and Jiang Nian didn't say any flirtatious nonsense either. It wasn't until they were at the front door of the house, watching Xu Qianqian change her shoes and go inside, that he finally let out a sigh of relief.

If only my emotional intelligence were a bit higher—could the system give me a course on emotional intelligence? The two of them were silent the whole way.

He went inside, had just put down his backpack, when Jiang Nian's phone lit up.

A message from Xu Qianqian: "Thank you."