"Why don't you grade Liu Lin's paper? I'll handle this one," Cheng Xing casually suggested, taking the paper from Zhou Yuan's hands before the latter could react.
"It's not about anything else. Jiang Luxi's answers are all correct, so it's easier to grade," Cheng Xing added, his tone light but firm.
Zhou Yuan's eyes gleamed with a knowing smile. "Cheng, you don't need to explain. I get it."
"I wasn't explaining," Cheng Xing responded calmly, his gaze unwavering.
Zhou Yuan smiled but said no more.
The incident yesterday where Cheng Xing helped Jiang Luxi cut in line had already spread throughout the school like wildfire. As someone closest to Cheng Xing, Zhou Yuan wasn't slow on the uptake. He had noticed that Cheng Xing had been paying unusual attention to Jiang Luxi lately.
Before, Zhou Yuan found it hard to believe that Cheng Xing could so abruptly shift his feelings after having liked Chen Qing for six years. But recent events made things crystal clear: whether or not Cheng Xing had developed romantic feelings for Jiang Luxi, his concern for her had long surpassed his concern for Chen Qing.
Perhaps others hadn't noticed, but Zhou Yuan, who had been by Cheng Xing's side all along, had picked up on the subtle changes. Like when Cheng Xing asked Wang Cheng about Jiang Luxi during lunch, or when he refused to let Chen Qing cut in line at the food stall but actively helped Jiang Luxi do so yesterday.
Then there was that incident during cleaning duty when Jiang Luxi accidentally knocked over a bike in the parking shed, and Cheng Xing helped her set it back up without a second thought. Rumors also floated around that when Jiang Luxi injured her hand, Cheng Xing had bought her band-aids.
And now, during this mock exam, Cheng Xing—who used to insist on grading Chen Qing's paper, no matter whose hands it passed through—rejected Chen Qing's test paper for the first time and asked to grade Jiang Luxi's instead.
His justification? "It's easier to grade." But everyone knew that grading anyone's test, apart from Cheng Xing's own and those of his close friends, was relatively easy since they rarely made mistakes.
All these incidents pointed to one undeniable fact: Cheng Xing cared about Jiang Luxi—whether it was love or not.
In high school, when a boy pays that much attention to a girl, what else could it mean besides liking her?
Just wanting to be friends? Zhou Yuan, who had harbored plenty of crushes since middle school, wasn't buying it. If it wasn't love, why would any boy care so much about a girl?
"What are you laughing at?" Cheng Xing shot Zhou Yuan a glance.
"Nothing, nothing," Zhou Yuan waved his hand dismissively, though his grin lingered.
Once all the papers were distributed, their teacher, Duan Weiguo, began explaining the problems.
It had to be said—grading Jiang Luxi's paper was indeed easy.
Halfway through the explanation, not a single mistake marred her answers.
The paper itself was notoriously difficult, packed with problems that extended beyond the regular syllabus and ventured into Olympiad-level math territory. Even Liu Lin, who consistently ranked in the top ten, had made several mistakes.
The next question tripped up even more students.
After solving it on the board, Duan Weiguo turned to the class and asked, "Raise your hand if you got this wrong. Let me see how many of you missed it."
Hands shot up across the room.
Cheng Xing glanced around, noting that nearly half the class had made the same mistake.
It was the first time he had seen so many students fail on a single question. In the past, seeing four or five students make the same mistake was already significant.
Faced with the sea of raised hands, Duan Weiguo's expression darkened.
"This test was tough, but haven't I covered similar problems before? I may not have explained it a million times, but I've done it at least a thousand! How can you still mess up? Even if I explain it another thousand times, you won't remember," he barked.
"It's just a small twist on a basic concept. Can't you think more during exams? This is fine for a mock exam, but what if it shows up in the real college entrance exam?"
His voice grew sharper. "I've taught so many cohorts. You guys are the worst!"
The students sat frozen in their seats, heads lowered in silence.
"Keep your heads up and listen carefully. I'll explain it one more time. If you don't get it, I won't repeat it again," Duan Weiguo warned.
Reluctantly, the students lifted their heads, their earlier enthusiasm extinguished.
Fortunately, the errors were largely confined to this particular question. The rest of the exam had fewer issues.
To ensure fair grading, those marking the papers had to sign their names on them. While Zhou Yuan was still calculating scores, Cheng Xing had already written "150" on Jiang Luxi's paper and signed his name beside it.
"I've never seen an easier paper to grade than yours, Luxi," Zhao Qiong, who sat near Jiang Luxi, remarked with a chuckle.
"Whose paper? Another perfect score?" a girl nearby inquired, her curiosity piqued.
"Of course not. If it were, it'd be just as easy as Luxi's," Zhao Qiong laughed.
"Then who?"
"Cheng Xing. Zero points," Zhao Qiong said, grinning.
"That is easier—writing a zero is simpler than 150," the girl quipped, joining in the laughter. "But didn't Cheng Xing usually copy Chen Qing's paper? Even if he copied randomly, he'd still get 70 or 80 points, right?"
"I don't know," Zhao Qiong shrugged. "It's easy to grade because except for his name, there's nothing on it. Just cross everything out."
"Did Chen Qing not let him copy?"
"No. I was there yesterday. He just kept reading his English book and didn't ask her for the paper," Zhao Qiong explained.
Jiang Luxi remained silent, calmly marking the test in front of her. She calculated the score and neatly signed her name.
At that moment, Duan Weiguo re-entered the classroom.
"Finished grading? Chen Qing, Jiang Luxi, collect the papers and redistribute them," Duan Weiguo instructed.
Jiang Luxi and Chen Qing began gathering the graded papers. Group leaders handed over their respective stacks. Jiang Luxi, the class president, handpicked by Zheng Hua, efficiently coordinated the task with Chen Qing, the math representative.
When Jiang Luxi handed Cheng Xing his blank test, Chen Qing's eyes caught something unusual on Jiang Luxi's paper: a perfect 150 wasn't surprising. But right beside that score, Cheng Xing's name stood out in bold letters.
The handwriting of those two characters was strikingly familiar.
After distributing all the exam papers, Jiang Luxi quietly returned to her seat. She glanced at her own paper, where a perfect score was marked in bold red ink. Yet, there wasn't the slightest flicker of emotion in her calm, steady gaze. It wasn't the score that unsettled her; it was the name scrawled beside it: Cheng Xing.
Jiang Luxi froze for a moment, her usual composure disrupted. Though she wasn't a social person and rarely involved herself in class affairs, she couldn't completely escape the murmurs around her. She had overheard classmates gossiping: if anyone received Chen Qing's test paper, they should immediately pass it to Cheng Xing.
Apparently, Cheng Xing had once made a bold declaration in class: only he had the right to grade Chen Qing's papers. Jiang Luxi remembered it well—how she, trying to avoid any unnecessary conflict or interaction, had dutifully handed Chen Qing's paper to Cheng Xing whenever it landed in her hands. She wasn't one to court trouble, and getting on Cheng Xing's bad side was the last thing she wanted.
But now, seeing Cheng Xing's name on her paper left her baffled and slightly irritated.
It's fine if you want to change your mind, she thought, but could you not do it so suddenly?
The day passed swiftly, and soon, night descended over the campus.
As the final bell of the evening study session echoed through the corridors, Cheng Xing and Zhou Yuan descended the stairs together.
The Mid-Autumn Festival was just around the corner. In An City, nestled in the northern region, the sycamore trees were already shedding their leaves in a flurry of amber and gold. Walking past one of these trees, Cheng Xing impulsively leapt up, plucking a yellowed leaf from a low-hanging branch.
There was something deeply satisfying about it, a throwback to his boyhood. Back then, every low-hanging branch was a challenge. He would jump again and again until he managed to grasp one. It wasn't just leaves; anything perched high above him sparked the same competitive urge.
It reminded him of the days when kids pretended to be heroes—brandishing tree branches like swords, imagining themselves as legendary figures like Li Xiaoyao. That playful yearning to conquer something just out of reach wasn't unique to him; most boys did the same.
But somewhere along the line—usually around thirty—that energy, that unrelenting drive, faded. Adults lost the spark, the wonder, and the playful defiance that came so naturally in their youth.
Youth. That fleeting time, teeming with vitality, hope, and a thirst for freedom. Teenagers longed for adulthood, eager to shake off the reins of parental and academic control. Yet, once they crossed into the adult world, burdened by responsibilities, they realized how precious and irreplaceable those school days had been.
There were no bills to pay, no pressure to survive. Parents were still strong, still there. The person you secretly admired was just a few seats away. You could see them every day, even if you didn't have the courage to speak to them.
That quiet hope—one day, perhaps in the future, you'd finally confess—was enough to keep you going.
Cheng Xing cherished these moments now. His days were simple, joyful. No work deadlines, no editors hounding him for unfinished manuscripts. He had friends, laughter, the moonlit sky at night, and peaceful walks to school in the morning with Jiang Luxi. After lunch, he would rest in the hallway, watching the sunset paint the windowsills.
Autumn's crisp breeze carried the scents of bustling food stalls just outside the school gates—his favorite snacks ready for the taking. The sycamore trees stood tall, their shade filled with students chattering and laughing.
This was the life Cheng Xing had always wanted. Time moved slowly, freely. His youth stretched out before him like an endless road.
As he jumped to grab another branch, Zhou Yuan followed suit, leaping at a different sycamore tree.
"Missed it," Zhou Yuan muttered, his face falling. "Hold on, Cheng. I've got to try again."
Cheng Xing laughed, waiting as Zhou Yuan made a second attempt. This time, Zhou Yuan succeeded, snatching the leaf with a triumphant grin.
Their moment of victory was short-lived.
"Cheng Xing! Zhou Yuan! What do you think you're doing?"
The unmistakable voice of Vice Principal Xu Shan thundered across the courtyard. The two boys turned sharply, spotting Xu Shan riding toward them on his bicycle, a stern glare locking onto them.
Cheng Xing and Zhou Yuan exchanged a glance.
"Run," Cheng Xing said, barely audible.
Without another word, they bolted.
Xu Shan wasn't the worst of punishers, but his method of handling rule-breakers was infamous: he'd hand them over to Zheng Hua, the school's strictest disciplinarian. Zheng Hua wouldn't just scold them; he'd ensure their names were blasted across the school's PA system, turning minor mischief into public shame.
And once Zheng Hua's rage ignited, he transformed from a regular teacher into a force of nature, an unstoppable whirlwind of fury.
Panting, the two didn't stop running until they reached the school gates.
"You just had to keep jumping, didn't you?" Cheng Xing huffed, catching his breath. "If Xu Shan had caught us, we'd be toast."
"No way, man! You started it. If you hadn't gone for that leaf, I wouldn't have either!" Zhou Yuan shot back.
"You got caught. Stop blaming me."
"Whatever, Cheng! Admit it—if you hadn't jumped, I wouldn't have jumped!" Zhou Yuan insisted.
"Fine, fine. Just grab two bottles of water. I'm exhausted." Cheng Xing tossed him two yuan.
Zhou Yuan, grinning, snatched the coins. "Got it!" He dashed to a nearby kiosk, still breathing hard from their mad dash.
Returning with the bottles, Zhou Yuan tossed one to Cheng Xing, who caught it midair. They sat by the roadside, guzzling down the cool water, letting the breeze soothe their tired muscles.
"Hey, Cheng," Zhou Yuan said, staring ahead. "Look, it's Jiang Luxi."
Cheng Xing followed his gaze. Jiang Luxi was riding past on her bicycle, her long hair tucked behind her ears, her jeans fitting neatly as she pedaled effortlessly down the road.
"Cheng, do you think anyone will ever marry our class president?" Zhou Yuan asked suddenly.
"I have no idea," Cheng Xing replied, shaking his head.
"Well, it sure won't be either of us," Zhou Yuan said with a smirk.
"Why not?" Cheng Xing glanced at him, curious.
"Come on, Cheng. We're the bad boys. Bad grades, bad attitudes. Maybe some girls like that, but not Jiang Luxi. She'd never go for guys like us."
"I'm not a bad boy," Cheng Xing protested.
"Whoa, whoa! Why're you so eager to deny it?" Zhou Yuan teased, his grin widening.
"Zhou Yuan, are you asking for a beating?"
They both laughed, the tension easing as they finished their water under the sycamore trees.