ABMSI Chapter 13

As the monthly exams drew near, the classroom’s usual lazy atmosphere finally returned to the proper mood of study.

Duan Wei, sticking to his usual habits, lounged back with one leg crossed over the other. While the teacher on the podium wasn’t paying attention, he pulled out his phone from under the desk and tapped out a message.

A moment later, Fu Duqiu’s backpack buzzed. Duan Wei held a book up to cover the movements of his hands and pretended to glance casually toward the window.

With the winter solstice approaching, the weather grew colder by the day. It had rained the night before, and the street outside the teaching building was blanketed with fallen ginkgo leaves. Puddles rippled in the wind, and the stainless steel frames of the “Moral Exemplars” bulletin board by the road shone after being washed clean.

Lately, Duan Wei had fallen into “sage mode.” The problem was, he’d been exhausted and out of sorts, so he’d reduced his “strategy plan” to just playing around on his phone.

Sitting beside him, Fu Duqiu had actually relaxed a little with the exams coming up. According to his lofty words: last-minute cramming was meaningless for long-term study anyway.

He took his phone out of his bag and saw a new message on the screen: [Senior, what are you doing?]

If not for this message, Fu Duqiu would’ve forgotten this person even existed in his contact list. He was about to swipe it away, but his finger paused on the screen. After a moment’s hesitation, he replied: [Doing problems.]

The other side replied quickly: [Ah, I see. I’m doing problems too, but there are several I don’t understand…]

Right after that came a pitiful little puppy emoji. Seeing this, Fu Duqiu’s eyes flickered, and he typed: [Send them to me, I’ll take a look.]

The chair Duan Wei had been tipping back suddenly slammed down with a bang. Holding his phone, he turned his head in shock at the screen. “Holy shit…”

Who would’ve thought? A casual attempt at baiting, and the always cold, aloof Fu Duqiu really was willing to solve problems for him. This was a real breakthrough. If he didn’t seize the chance, he wasn’t a real man.

But—where the hell was he supposed to find high school sophomore-level questions on the spot?

His brain spun at full speed. He exited the chat, dove into Tieba, browsed problem threads, and finally dug up a set of second-year math problems. After cropping out the watermark, he sent them over.

In that short interval, he could keenly feel Fu Duqiu glance his way, before picking up his pen and starting calculations on scratch paper. Duan Wei stuffed his phone back into his pocket and leaned closer, wanting to watch. But as soon as he moved, Fu Duqiu stopped writing.

One problem. Three minutes.

Scholar—deservedly so.

Fu Duqiu cast a discreet glance at the phone in Duan Wei’s hand, then raised his own to snap a photo and sent it over on WeChat.

Duan Wei’s pocket buzzed, but to avoid tipping his hand, he didn’t take his phone out immediately. Instead, he looked over at Fu Duqiu with feigned nonchalance and asked, “Why are you doing sophomore math problems?”

“How do you know they’re sophomore problems?” Fu Duqiu shot him a sidelong glance.

Knew it—he’d ask that. Duan Wei was prepared. He feigned disdain and jabbed a finger at the formulas on the scratch paper. “Don’t look down on me, okay? I can at least pass math.”

Fu Duqiu said nothing. Instead, he pushed the scratch paper in front of him. “Take a closer look.”

“What’s there to—” Duan Wei’s voice trailed off, because he realized the paper had somehow been flipped to a different page, now crammed full of chemistry formulas.

He froze, glancing between Fu Duqiu’s calm face and the paper.

Had he… accidentally exposed himself?

Clearing his throat, he tried to cover it up: “I definitely saw it just now. You flipping the page is the problem. Why are you even writing chemistry formulas? We liberal arts students don’t study that, right?”

“Just interested.” Fu Duqiu didn’t press the issue further. He tucked the scratch paper away and pulled out a set of practice exams to work on.

Relieved to have dodged a bullet, Duan Wei exhaled quietly, pulled his phone back out, and sent a [Thanks] in reply.

Until the bell rang, Duan Wei kept reflecting on what he’d just done. He felt like his IQ had dropped lately. To be precise—ever since the male lead showed up, he kept doing stupid things.

He couldn’t help but suspect that it was Fu Duqiu’s overpowering male-lead halo in this book that made him act dumber and dumber lately.

After consoling himself with that thought, the bell rang right on time. Peng Yan, who had been asleep all morning, bolted upright, glanced at the clock, then pulled a bowl out of his bag and headed for the front door. “Brother Duan, let’s go eat!”

The cafeteria was absolutely packed. By the time Duan Wei found a seat, more than ten minutes had already passed. Peng Yan sat beside him gnawing on a chicken drumstick, while across from them sat Xu Jianian and another Omega.

Duan Wei had been a little hungry while waiting in line, but the moment he opened his lunch box, his appetite fizzled. He picked at the food with his chopsticks, carefully scraping the garlic off the only dish he wanted—the eggplant.

Just after he took a bite, giggles drifted from across the table as the two across from him huddled over a phone. Curious, Duan Wei looked up from his lunch. “What are you two looking at?”

“The campus heartthrob vote,” Xu Jianian said, flipping the phone around so Duan Wei could see.

The screen was glaringly bright. Squinting, Duan Wei leaned back a bit until he could finally make out the words on it.

The interface was flashy, littered with fonts and designs, but the bold headline at the top stood out the most—“No. 1 High School Campus Heartthrob Election.”

Scrolling down, the contestants’ photos filled the page. Duan Wei skimmed a few and raised a brow. “Fu Duqiu’s in this?”

“Yeah,” the Omega beside Xu Jianian chimed in. “The election’s been going for days already. I heard Fu Duqiu was only added yesterday, but the moment he went online, he crushed several people instantly. He’s already at the top of the list!”

Hearing that, Duan Wei looked more closely. Sure enough, it was true. Unlike the other contestants, whose photos were caked in eighteen layers of beauty filters, Fu Duqiu’s entry was just a candid side profile, clearly taken secretly.

And yet, even like that, he was sitting firmly at number one with a landslide of votes, leaving the runner-up far, far behind.

Duan Wei wasn’t the least bit surprised. In the original novel, Fu Duqiu was the undisputed pinnacle of looks. Otherwise, how could he have been the male lead of a romance novel?

But as he scrolled further down, he suddenly spotted his own name. A man’s innate competitive streak hit him hard. He counted the votes—he had only a third of Fu Duqiu’s total.

“So exaggerated?” Duan Wei muttered, unwilling to accept it. “They must’ve bought votes.”

“Fu Duqiu probably doesn’t even know he’s on the list,” Peng Yan said through a mouthful. “The only ranking he cares about is the grades ranking.”

Duan Wei handed the phone back to Xu Jianian, still sulking as he speared another bite of eggplant. “Hey, Xiao Yanzi,” he said to Peng Yan, “between me and Fu Duqiu, who’s better?”

He raised his brows as he spoke, wearing an expression that clearly said: think carefully before you answer. Peng Yan understood instantly, set down his chopsticks, and launched into shameless flattery. “It’s gotta be my Brother Duan, of course! These common folk just don’t appreciate real beauty when they see it!”

“Ha! That’s more like it!” Duan Wei beamed, and suddenly even the food in his lunch box tasted better.

He took a sip of hot soup, only to feel Peng Yan pat his arm and point ahead. “Still, gotta admit—Fu Duqiu’s looks aren’t bad at all.”

Following his finger, the three of them turned to look. Not far away, a group of people had gathered. In the middle of the crowd stood someone tall enough to be spotted at once—the current number one on the “Campus Heartthrob Ranking”: Fu Duqiu.

Beside him, at the center of attention, was a girl with her back to Duan Wei’s group. All they could see was her long, loose hair and the black pleated skirt of her school uniform. Bundled up like a sumo wrestler, Duan Wei shivered at the sight.

In weather this cold, how could she be wearing so little?

“Isn’t that the school flower?” the Omega said. “I heard she was one of the confessions on the wall a few days ago.”

“Huh?” Peng Yan frowned. “Wasn’t Li Da from the next class chasing after her? So he hasn’t locked it down yet?”

“Li Da’s violent and loves to fight—he’s the classic school thug,” Xu Jianian said, then glanced at Duan Wei with a smile. “Not half as cute as our own school bully, Brother Wei.”

That one teasing comment from the side instantly cleared up all the relationships Duan Wei had been fuzzy on. From a distance, they watched the school flower pull out an envelope and hand it to Fu Duqiu.

The latter—Fu Duqiu—was silent for a moment, then said something to the school beauty. Without even taking the letter, he turned and left alone through the front entrance.

Peng Yan spat out the chicken bone, and for once spoke in a literary tone: “Unexpected, yet perfectly reasonable.”

“Yeah, several people have confessed to Fu Duqiu recently, and he rejected them all. The scenes—wow—each one was like a live heartbreak broadcast,” the Omega added.

Duan Wei, meanwhile, watched Fu Duqiu’s retreating back until it disappeared, then slowly drew back his gaze. He had already seen moments like this in the original novel—tragic, maybe, but irrelevant to him as long as they didn’t interfere with the main storyline.

Besides, if Fu Duqiu kept being this much of a straight man, it’d save him a whole lot of trouble.

After finishing lunch, the afternoon classes dragged on. Duan Wei was drained, so much so that during PE he just slumped under the basketball hoop, watching Class 8’s team run laps. He stayed in a daze right up until evening self-study ended.

When the bell rang, the classroom emptied in a rush. Duan Wei lazily slung his bag over his shoulder, but the moment he stepped out the door, he caught a whiff of something metallic—like rust, sharp and bloody.

He frowned and looked up, only to see the moonlight from the balcony blocked out by a hulking figure standing in front of him. The guy wasn’t in uniform; the short sleeves he wore showed off the thick cords of muscle in his arms.

Duan Wei instinctively tensed, thinking it was someone coming to settle the original host’s old grudges. But this person was a complete stranger. Before Duan Wei could say anything, the man spoke first:

“Where’s Fu Duqiu from your class?”