DCTMOAS Chapter 79
by Suxxi“Self-incrimination.”
Looking at Lu Yan’s genuinely kind expression, Ying He couldn’t say much. He pocketed his phone and stepped out of the staff restroom, but as he passed by Lu Yan, he snorted lightly and said, “You could’ve at least pretended you didn’t hear anything.”
Lu Yan crossed his arms and followed him out casually, replying in his usual tone, “Would you have believed me if I said I didn’t?”
“No.” Ying He’s voice was flat. Then he added, “But whatever you did hear, forget all of it.”
Lu Yan immediately switched to an innocent, confused expression. “What did I even hear?”
“Fuck,” Ying He muttered under his breath.
No wonder this guy was so well-liked and could blend into any group in Class 7. He really knew how to play both ends—knew when to be flexible, knew how to act, and had a masterful grasp of playing dumb.
Ying He and Lu Yan returned to the classroom, one in front and the other behind.
During today’s lunch break, Chu Cheng also stayed behind in the classroom. He turned on the air conditioner, set it to natural wind, and brought over a U-shaped pillow from the Chinese department office. He laid down on the back desk to nap.
More and more students were slipping into rest mode, and the classroom gradually quieted down. Director Yang from the Academic Affairs Office was patrolling the corridors during the lunch period. As she passed by the closed front door of Class 7, she peeked through the glass window.
The school administrator frowned and pushed the classroom door open slightly. Seeing the class president still awake in the front row, she asked:
“It’s not even that cold anymore. Why’s your class still running the AC? Whose temper’s that hot?”
“…Probably him,” Ji Yanan turned her head and pointed toward the back row.
When she saw Chu Cheng fast asleep on the desk, Yang the Director twitched the corner of her mouth but didn’t say anything. Forget it—someone under Yu Siting’s wing wasn’t someone she could afford to provoke.
If she dared to turn off the air conditioning in his co-homeroom today, that guy might just reroute his own class’s electricity bill to the principal’s account tomorrow. After some very careful consideration, Director Yang decided it was better to avoid unnecessary trouble and quietly left.
Wrapped in a light jacket, Chu Cheng was curled up in the pleasant coolness of the air conditioning and the softness of fabric. No one knew how long he’d been asleep when he vaguely heard the sounds of an argument.
He opened his bleary eyes and saw a group of tall boys gathered at the back of the classroom.
“What’s going on?” Chu Cheng rubbed his hair and stood up.
“I don’t care what kind of punk you were before, but this class is not your playground.” That was Bai Xiaolong speaking.
Ying He leaned on the desk with one arm, casting a sideways glance at him. He didn’t say anything, but his posture radiated arrogance—as if he didn’t even consider the people in front of him worth noticing.
Jiang Zhibo chimed in too, spouting more tough-guy rhetoric about not being too cocky.
Ying He had already been in a bad mood, and now being scolded by a bunch of people just made him more irritable. He shrugged his shoulders, and the jacket draped over him fell to the ground.
He raised an eyebrow and said coldly, with a mocking tone, “Are you mutts ever gonna shut up?”
Hot-blooded boys with mutual animosity—sometimes it only takes a few words or even a glance for things to explode.
Chu Cheng could already sense something was off. He pushed through the crowd of students who were watching the commotion, trying to squeeze in from the window side. But even those few seconds were too late.
Bai Xiaolong suddenly kicked over Ying He’s desk.
“Watch your damn mouth.”
“F*ck—”
“You looking for a fight?!”
“I’ve had enough of your crap!”
The desk hit the floor with a loud bang, mixing with a volley of shouted curses from multiple voices. In an instant, it escalated into physical conflict. Ying He had already sprung up and grabbed his chair.
Seeing Chu Cheng approaching, Lu Yan glanced at the boys who were tangled in a fight. His first instinct was to raise his arm and pull the co-homeroom teacher out of the danger zone.
Before Chu Cheng could even react, Lu Yan had already turned back to break up the fight. Class Rep Lu moved with purpose, grabbing hold of Mu Yiyang and Bai Xiaolong, completely ignoring Ying He who was lunging from behind.
The sheer force and visual impact of the brawl were shocking—especially once someone had picked up a chair. Not everyone dared to step in.
It all happened so suddenly that only Meng Xin and Li Sheng, who were seated nearby, could immediately step in front of Ying He to prevent him from doing anything worse. Most of the class hadn’t even processed what was happening, let alone reacted.
Lu Yan had one arm wrapped tightly around Mu Yiyang, while his back physically blocked Bai Xiaolong’s charging frame. No one would’ve guessed that the usually lanky and listless kid actually had that much strength.
Mu Yiyang was completely restrained, unable to move, and shouted angrily, “Lu Yan, what the hell are you doing?! You’re clearly taking sides!”
“I’m not taking sides,” Lu Yan gripped Mu Yiyang’s collar, forcing him to focus, and spoke in an unwavering, firm tone that carried real authority:
“Listen to me clearly. I don’t care what beef you guys have or how badly you want to tear each other apart—but in Class 7, three against one is never going to happen.”
Mu Yiyang was stunned by that commanding tone and stopped struggling.
Jiang Zhibo, who hadn’t been restrained, wasn’t thinking that far ahead—he launched himself at Ying He, and the two began grappling.
There were more people throwing punches than trying to break it up. The situation couldn’t be controlled quickly. Though Chu Cheng had been pulled back by Lu Yan, his sense of duty pushed him to charge forward despite the danger.
He lunged toward Ying He, grabbed the chair the boy had raised, and with just a few fingers, clutched the wooden frame tightly. The veins in his pale hand popped from the strain.
Chu Cheng ignored the numbness spreading through his palm and shouted, voice sharp with authority.
“Ying He, put it down. Do you even understand the gravity of what you’re doing right now?”
“I don’t give a damn,” Ying He snapped back. He’d always been headstrong, and when his mood soured, consequences stopped mattering. His voice was cold. “Worst case, I’ll just drop out this year. None of your business—get out of my way!”
As he spoke, the force in his arms increased. He raised the chair again, aiming to swing it at Jiang Zhibo.
Chu Cheng had had enough. The student’s hair-trigger temper finally sparked his own fury. Not only did he refuse to back down, he stepped forward even more forcefully, raising his own arm to block and growling in a low, commanding voice he’d never used before.
“Go ahead. Try me!”
One teacher alone couldn’t possibly hold back two boys swinging chairs and flipping desks—especially not when a crowd of students kept pushing forward from behind.
Abandoning the chair, Ying He and Jiang Zhibo shoved their way through the onlookers, taking the fight from the back of the classroom out into the hallway.
They were seeing red now, throwing their full strength at each other, completely unaware of the English teacher approaching from the opposite direction, on her way into the class to start tutoring.
Neither Ying He nor Jiang Zhibo could stop their forward momentum in time. Shen Nannan was pushed back two steps, lost her footing, and fell backward.
Ms. Shen was pregnant!
The thought slammed into Ying He’s brain like a bullet. In that split second, with no time to think, he instinctively threw himself in the same direction, acting as a human cushion to protect her.
The boy dropped fast, aiming only to break her fall. But with no time to control his angle or strength, his head struck the valve of a water pipe jutting from the wall just as his body hit the floor and caught Ms. Shen.
Gasps and shouts burst from the classmates who had run out after them.
Ying He felt the sharp impact to the back of his head. His vision blurred, and pain flared across his skull. Reaching up to touch the area, he found his palm smeared with bright, chaotic streaks of blood.
A pregnant teacher and a bleeding student collapsed in a heap.
Even Jiang Zhibo, still flushed with anger moments ago, instantly abandoned the fight. He dropped into a crouch, reaching out anxiously to help.
“Ah—don’t move yet…” Shen Nannan hadn’t hit anything critical when she fell, but in her rush to protect her belly, she had twisted her wrist.
“Can you see me? Clearly?” Chu Cheng bent down to help Ying He sit up and immediately saw him clutching his head—blood dripping through his fingers.
Ying He nodded.
Chu Cheng grew more anxious. “Don’t nod. Speak. Do you remember your name?”
“I’m Chu Cheng,” Ying He joked through clenched brows, pain tightening his face. He tilted his head back with a hiss, “Ugh—I’m fine. Go check on Ms. Shen.”
The girls who usually avoided getting close to the transfer student were too worried now to care. They nervously gathered around, concern written all over their faces. One of them asked, “He’s bleeding. Should we call an ambulance?”
“Call what ambulance? I can walk there faster than they’d arrive,” Ying He grumbled, annoyed.
Hearing him complain was actually reassuring—Chu Cheng knew then that his consciousness was intact. He turned to check on Shen Nannan.
Director Yang, who worked in the academic affairs office, had rushed over upon hearing the noise. When he saw the chaotic scene, he was dumbfounded. Just ten minutes ago, he’d passed by during his routine inspection—how had things spiraled like this so fast?
“What happened here?” Director Yang hurried forward to help.
“Don’t worry about that right now—just get them to the hospital, fast. And make sure to notify Zhou Jin,” Chu Cheng took charge, assigning the calmer students to maintain order in the class.
“Han Rui, you keep everyone on self-study.”
“Lu Yan, you’re coming with me to take them to the hospital.”
“As for the ones who started this mess—sit tight. I’ll deal with you when I get back.”
Jiang Zhibo glanced at the two injured people being helped up and lowered his gaze. He said quietly, “I’ll come too.”
But even-tempered Mr. Chu, when angry, could be downright terrifying. His eyes were calm yet cold, his voice firm:
“Stay right where you are. Don’t worry—I’ll deal with you personally.”
Chu Cheng and Director Yang escorted both Shen Nannan and Ying He to the hospital.
Fortunately, Ms. Shen was fine. But Ying He, having hit his head hard, was diagnosed with a mild concussion. The scalp injury required stitches, though thankfully it wasn’t deep.
Chu Cheng was running all over the hospital—registering patients, paying bills, and even finding time to contact Ying He’s parents.
His mother was working and couldn’t answer directly, so her assistant took the message.
Zhou Jin rushed to the hospital as soon as he was notified.
“What happened? Where’s my wife?” Senior Zhou—usually composed and cultured—looked visibly panicked for once, more so than even when someone had filed a complaint against him with the Education Bureau.
Chu Cheng stood up from a waiting bench and met him halfway, calmly explaining:
“Students were fighting. She got knocked in the scuffle. They’re still inside being checked.”
“What’s wrong with your class…” Zhou Jin started to scold, but cut himself off, swallowing the words back down. He was worried, but tried to stay rational.
“I’m sorry, senior,” Chu Cheng apologized sincerely. “I failed to take proper care of Ms. Shen.”
Zhou Jin raked a hand through his disheveled hair and sighed. “It’s not your fault.”
Just then, the glass door of the consultation room creaked open. A nurse came out holding a few documents, walking beside Shen Nannan.
Zhou Jin immediately stepped up to her, anxious.
“The tests look good—nothing wrong with the baby,” she said gently. “Just a strained wrist.”
She reached up with her good hand and brushed some hair from her husband’s forehead.
“Look at you—running over here all flustered. Covered in sweat and dust.”
“You scared the hell out of me,” Zhou Jin muttered, finally calming down. He took the results from the nurse and listened as she explained precautions—no heavy lifting, no writing for now, and a few days of rest.
Hearing that his sister-in-law and the baby were both fine, Chu Cheng finally let out a sigh of relief.
“Senior, why don’t you take Ms. Shen home to rest now?”
Zhou Jin asked, “Is there anything I can do to help on your end?”
Chu Cheng wouldn’t trouble someone who had already been dragged into the mess. He replied,
“You two just go home and don’t worry about this anymore. There’s still a student in the treatment room—I need to go check on him.”
Zhou Jin and Shen Nannan thanked him before leaving.
Ying He’s wound had been stitched up with two stitches, and he’d received an anti-inflammatory injection. Even after resting for a while in the observation room, he still felt dizzy. Chu Cheng, carrying all the student’s test results, knocked on the attending doctor’s door.
“Hello, doctor. I’m this student’s teacher. How’s his condition?”
The doctor flipped through the test reports with one hand while doing a brief check-up. Ying He answered all the questions clearly and fluently.
“From the current test results, there’s nothing serious. The dizziness after the impact is normal. A bit of rest and he should recover. But if you’re still concerned, you can admit him for overnight observation.”
“Alright, to be safe, let’s keep him in for the night.” With the student’s parents unavailable, Chu Cheng knew he had to take full responsibility.
After leaving the doctor’s office, Chu Cheng explained the situation to Director Yang, who was waiting outside. He offered to stay and accompany the student himself and asked the director to help keep an eye on the class. Then he went off to complete the hospital admission paperwork.
Things had been so chaotic earlier that Director Yang had been on edge, fearing something serious might happen to either the teacher or the student. Now that things were under control, he finally let out a breath and remembered to call Yu Siting, who was still in a meeting.
“Your class—got into a group fight. Both teacher and student are at the hospital.”
Knowing Yu Siting’s personality, Director Yang didn’t bother with pleasantries—just gave a concise report.
There was no hesitation at all from the person on the other end. He immediately asked,
“Which teacher’s in the hospital? Is Chu Cheng alright?”
“Mr. Chu,” said Director Yang.
Outside the treatment room, Lu Yan had just returned from a run to a nearby convenience store, bringing back some essentials. He handed a bag to Chu Cheng, along with a cup of hot coffee.
“Mr. Chu, it doesn’t look like there’s anything else I can help with here. I’ll head back to school and help keep an eye on the class.”
“Thanks, you’ve worked hard.” Chu Cheng instinctively reached out and ruffled his favorite student’s hair.
Although Lu Yan thought the gesture was more suited to a child, he didn’t dodge it.
His gaze passed through the glass of the hospital room and landed on Ying He, who was sitting alone. Suddenly, he remembered something. “Oh right, I happened to overhear at noon that today is his birthday.”
Chu Cheng turned back in surprise, glancing at the kid inside. Seeing the lonely look in his eyes, he sighed helplessly. “Alright, I got it. You go ahead and take a cab home. Be careful on the way.”
“Okay.” Lu Yan nodded.
Chu Cheng turned around, pushed open the hospital room door, and walked in.
He handed Ying He a cup of water, then sat down on the bed across from him. Glancing around the room, the familiar scene made him feel like he’d gone back to the time when they first met.
After a brief silence, Chu Cheng spoke first. “So, what happened? Why’d you hit someone with a stool?”
“I forgot,” Ying He said blandly. He was leaning against the headboard with a bandage around his head, fiddling with a tablet.
Chu Cheng asked curiously, “Where’d you get that device?”
Ying He replied, “Borrowed it from the nurses’ station.”
Well, that made sense. This kid could sneak out of the hospital with ease—borrowing a tablet was nothing. Chu Cheng smiled wryly. “How come you’ve never used that sweet-talking talent of yours on me?”
“Bro~” Ying He glanced up at him, deliberately pinching his voice in a dramatic, cutesy way—but that good attitude only lasted for one word. The next second, he resumed his cold and fast tone. “Can you let me watch my movie in peace?”
Chu Cheng corrected him, “Wrong generation.”
Ying He replied casually, “No way I’m the same generation as your precious son.”
“Sounds like that fight didn’t satisfy you—you’re still holding a grudge.” Chu Cheng didn’t want to argue with a dizzy patient. He remembered what Lu Yan had said before leaving, so he took out his phone and started browsing food delivery while chatting.
“Still have a headache?”
“It’s okay.”
“What do you want to eat?”
“Dumplings.”
“Alright.” Chu Cheng responded. After ordering dinner, he also added a small cake with a candle for the kid.
Buzz—just as Chu Cheng was entering his password to pay, a new WeChat message popped up at the top of his screen.
It was from Jiang Zhibo.
[Mr. Chu, how’s Ying He doing?]
They were at each other’s throats at noon, acting like they wanted to kill one another, and now here he was sending a message of concern. Teenagers were truly impossible to figure out.
Chu Cheng glanced up at Ying He, who looked like nothing had happened, then quietly replied to the message.
Ying He was playing an English movie on speaker. A few minutes later, he suddenly spoke.
“Is the English teacher okay?”
“She and the child are both fine. You should be praised for that, but…” Chu Cheng was about to seize the moment to scold him when Ying He cut him off.
“No need for praise. Let’s call it even. I was wrong to fight.” Ying He said, “I was just in a bad mood. Those guys didn’t actually provoke me much. Don’t lecture me.”
Chu Cheng: “……”
The only sound in the room was the dialogue from the movie. Chu Cheng was quiet for a moment, then decided not to let it slide. He switched to a tone Ying He would understand.
“Ying He, my patience has limits. I’m not interested in saving some know-it-all who just wants to self-destruct and break the rules on purpose. If I hear you say ‘so what if I can’t keep going to school’ one more time, you can pack your things and get the hell out of Class 7.”
‘I’m angry’ never hits as hard as ‘I’m done caring.’ Ying He’s finger paused as he scrubbed through the movie’s progress bar, then after a beat, he gave a soft “Mm.”
As evening settled in, Chu Cheng got a call and headed downstairs to pick up the food.
The northern September night breeze had already turned chilly. Chu Cheng had rushed out of school and was still wearing just a short-sleeved T-shirt. When the wind cut through the fabric, he couldn’t help but shiver.
He picked up the cake and turned to go back when he noticed a car parked on the roadside. The license plate looked like it belonged to Teacher Yu.
The thought had barely formed when the familiar figure stepped out of the car.
Yu Siting took a few steps forward, undid the buttons of his windbreaker, and draped it over Chu Cheng’s shoulders before speaking to the stunned man.
“Didn’t you say you’d call me if something came up? What the hell are you doing?”
The coat, still warm from his body, settled on Chu Cheng’s back, and suddenly, the night wind didn’t feel so cold anymore.
Chu Cheng opened his mouth slightly. “I got busy and forgot.”
Yu Siting looked down at what Chu Cheng was holding. “You remembered to buy a cake for someone else, but couldn’t think to give me a call?”
“You were going to find out sooner or later anyway,” Chu Cheng muttered. “Besides, you were busy with important things during the day. If I’d called you then, I’d have seemed like some clingy little kid who hasn’t weaned yet.”
Yu Siting chuckled, taking that as an acceptable explanation. Then he asked, “Tired? Let me take care of the rest.”
Chu Cheng was indeed mentally exhausted, but not to the point where he couldn’t handle things. He replied gently, “I’m also the homeroom teacher for this class—I can’t just keep hiding behind you.”
“Trying to stand on your own two feet, huh?” Yu Siting picked up on the weariness in his tone and teased him to lighten the mood. “Are you after my 800-yuan bonus?”
Chu Cheng shook his head. “Honestly, I had a feeling something like this might happen—I just didn’t expect it to get this out of hand.”
Yu Siting said, “There’ll always be unexpected situations. You can’t foresee everything or be prepared in advance. That’s why being a teacher is sometimes like being a military strategist.”
“Requires imagination?” Chu Cheng quickly followed up with a quip.
“As of now, Mr. Chu already has the ability to react in real time.” Yu Siting smiled and nodded approvingly.
He raised his hand to straighten Chu Cheng’s collar, but when he looked down, he noticed Chu Cheng was holding the cake incorrectly. He took the hand and lifted it—his palm was covered in a large, deep bruise.
“What happened here?”
Chu Cheng hadn’t even noticed it himself and replied carelessly, “Probably hit it when I blocked the chair. Didn’t even feel any pain.”
Yu Siting didn’t argue. He just gently pinched the spot with his fingertips.
Chu Cheng hissed, “Tss—”
Yu Siting furrowed his brows. “Doesn’t hurt?”
Chu Cheng had no response.
Initially, Teacher Chu had come to work with a mindset of coasting through until retirement, but when he got serious, he could be incredibly stubborn. Yu Siting looked at his expression and didn’t press further. Instead, he walked with him upstairs to check on the students.
The two of them walked down the corridor that reeked of disinfectant. From a distance, they saw a well-dressed young woman at the nurses’ station asking for a room number. She was impeccably dressed, with neat hair and makeup. Aside from a trace of worry on her face, she carried herself with calm elegance.
“That looks like…” Chu Cheng followed behind, squinting for a closer look. He’d still been worried about Ying He’s emotional state, but hadn’t expected to run into his mother here.
Apparently, she had flown in from out of town as soon as she heard about her son’s injury.
“He He!” She pushed open the hospital room door.
“Mom?” Ying He, who was inside watching a movie, was clearly surprised. “Weren’t you in a meeting?”
“You’re in this state—how could I not come back?” She gently cradled her son’s head, asking softly, “Which classmate did you fight with to end up like this?”
Ying He explained, “It wasn’t from a fight. I fell. I’m fine, really.”
His mother had dropped her important work and rushed back, exhausted, just to be there for him. Even the most prideful child would soften at a time like this.
Chu Cheng didn’t want to interrupt the rare tender moment between mother and son. He quietly placed the dumplings and the cake on the chair outside the room.
Watching the scene inside, he murmured, “The kid’s a good kid. The parents actually care a lot too. Maybe it’s that restrained, composed way of people in politics—not so good at expressing themselves. That’s probably why Ying He turned out so emotionally reserved.”
Chu Cheng suddenly recalled an article he had read once. It said that language is always sharp and articulate when delivering pain, yet always clumsy and powerless when trying to convey love.
Yu Siting glanced at him. “Getting sentimental again?”
“I’m just reflecting…”
For the first time in a while, Chu Cheng’s tightly wound nerves began to ease. Looking at Yu Siting standing in front of him, he suddenly felt like this man’s presence alone was the greatest source of comfort he could ask for.
He chuckled softly, then leaned in and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek while no one was around. “We still have to be brave when expressing love.”
Yu Siting was briefly stunned. The kiss had already ended.
Chu Cheng stretched a bit and sighed. “So tired.”
“You’re taking care of the students so well—have you eaten?” Yu Siting asked.
Chu Cheng smiled. “Now that my Teacher Yu is back, you think I’d go hungry?”
Yu Siting glanced at the time—school was about to let out. He wrapped an arm around Chu Cheng’s shoulders and said in a low voice, “Come home with me.”
—
On Sunday, Chu Cheng got up early and went to the hospital to check on Ying He again. He also took the chance to talk to his mother—at the very least, the parents deserved an explanation.
Yu Siting went to school by himself.
The group fight that broke out during class had been serious—especially since a pregnant teacher had almost gotten hurt. The school had no choice but to intervene. Aside from Ying He, who was still in the hospital, Bai Xiaolong, Mu Yiyang, and Jiang Zhibo were all summoned to the discipline office for a formal reprimand.
When Yu Siting came to collect them, he glanced at the students obediently standing outside the office and said with cutting sarcasm, “First day back and you’re already causing trouble. Looks like Class 7 can’t hold the few of you anymore.”
That lazy, offhanded tone carried an undercurrent of barely restrained fury—it sent a chill down everyone’s spine. Jiang Zhibo’s shoulders twitched. “Boss… we were wrong.”
Yu Siting didn’t reply. His eyes were cold and indifferent. After a few glances, he turned away and pushed open the office door to the Discipline Office.
Inside, Zhou Jin was talking with Director Yang. He had originally come to request leave for Shen Nannan, but after seeing the students outside, he took the opportunity to learn more about what had happened.
Zhou Jin said, “That student, Ying He, got hurt protecting my wife. I can cover his medical bills.”
Director Yang replied, “No need for you to worry about that. The exposed heating valve was a safety hazard—the school will take responsibility. It’s not your place to foot the bill.”
“The school’s got a lot to take responsibility for. And it’s not just his medical bill, right?” Yu Siting’s gaze was deep and unreadable. He slammed the math textbook tucked under his arm down on the desk.
Director Yang could see he was irritated and really didn’t want to pick a fight, but there was no avoiding it. He forced himself to deal with the situation. “What’s with the temper? It’s early in the morning and your students are right outside.”
“Let them wait. Every one of them needs a lesson.” Yu Siting’s fingers tapped impatiently on the hardwood desk, clearly frustrated. “I was barely out the door for a damn exam seminar, and the second I’m gone they pull a gang fight stunt in class. And it’s my vice-homeroom, no less.”
He glanced at Zhou Jin, then thought about Chu Cheng, who was out there handling everything with an injured hand. He couldn’t help but complain: “What, he’s the only one who gets to have a wife? Where’s mine when I need protecting?”
Director Yang hurriedly waved his hands. “Cool down, cool down.” And muttered under his breath—keep it down, will you? Don’t let anyone hear that.
The amount of info jammed into that single sentence was way too much. Zhou Jin stared at the leadership in total confusion. Wait a minute… he has a wife? Since when?
Director Yang could only respond with his eyes:
This isn’t something I can explain in a sentence. Just take the hint. If he says he has one, then he has one.
After throwing some pressure at the higher-ups, Yu Siting left the office and spotted the three boys from his class still standing sheepishly outside. His tone remained icy: “Still standing there? Haven’t embarrassed yourselves enough?”
The boys knew he was furious and didn’t dare talk back. They lowered their heads, looking guilty.
Yu Siting thought of what Chu Cheng had said earlier. He didn’t want to interfere too much anymore—he simply told them to go apologize to Mr. Chu and Ms. Shen themselves.
Monday afternoon
Jiang Zhibo, Bai Xiaolong, and Mu Yiyang had spent quite a while in the Chinese Department office. The trio had given sincere apologies, recognized their mistakes, and promised not to repeat them.
Chu Cheng, as always, was gentle yet principled. He didn’t scold them harshly, but he did issue proper consequences.
As the three were leaving the office to return to class, Ying He happened to be walking in. Bai Xiaolong and Mu Yiyang froze awkwardly at the door.
Jiang Zhibo took the initiative to step forward.
Ying He narrowed his long, almond-shaped eyes and said in a cold voice, “What, didn’t get enough fighting yesterday?”
His tone was still far from friendly, but to the Three Musketeers, it no longer sounded nearly as harsh.
Especially for Jiang Zhibo—after what had happened, he now saw Ying He as someone who actually had guts and took responsibility. Sure, the guy had an attitude problem and could use a good smack, but if Ying He hadn’t reacted fast yesterday, things could’ve gotten a lot worse.
“That cut on your head may not have been from my fist, but it definitely happened because of me. Just for that fall you took, I owe you an apology.” Jiang Zhibo glanced at the gauze on Ying He’s head, then added, “But I do need to make something clear—yesterday, it was just the two of us. The others didn’t lay a hand on you. Don’t go around saying we ganged up on you and landed you in the hospital.”
It was all pretty pointless chatter, and Ying He clearly didn’t care to respond. He just gave a dismissive snort from his throat. “Tch. Such a fuss over nothing.”
It looked like both sides had backed down a bit, and yet… the tension still lingered.
Lu Yan, caught in the middle, furrowed his brows.
In his eyes, Jiang Zhibo and Bai Xiaolong were a pair of hotheaded brutes, and even Mu Yiyang—when he wasn’t in a relationship—barely made up a third of a functional brain. Then there was Ying He, who constantly spoke like a jerk by default. Expecting these guys to get to the point was like waiting for pigs to fly.
Lu the Class Rep couldn’t take it anymore and stepped in to mediate. “Alright, alright—so maybe fighting leads to friendship. But in Class 7, infighting’s off-limits. That’s your big bro’s rule. Yesterday was the first and last time. I’ll say it for you.”
He stood in the middle of the two camps and was the first to extend a hand. Once someone took the lead, things went much smoother. The other four hesitated a beat, then one by one, put their hands in.
They never had any deep grudges, just the kind of mutual dislike that flares up between strong personalities. Even if they couldn’t be best buds, not getting in each other’s way was good enough.
The bell rang, and the students scattered back to their seats.
The physics teacher walked in, stepped up to the podium, and told them to pull out the test paper they hadn’t finished before.
Ying He had missed most of the day’s classes. His desk was buried under a mountain of worksheets. As he bent down to dig through his folder, his hat slipped off. During his hospital visit, a small patch of hair had been shaved for stitches—now, from a side angle, his head looked just a bit… tragic.
Lu Yan, sitting just beside him, immediately noticed. His pen-spinning halted, and with a soft clack, his gel pen dropped onto the desk.
“What are you staring at?” Ying He snapped.
“Nothing…” Lu Yan replied, though his gaze was locked squarely on that freshly shaved patch. He tried to hold it in… but he couldn’t help it.
“Pfft—!”
Ying He’s grip on his pencil audibly cracked.
Don’t snap. Don’t snap.
He’d already been issued a final warning—one more fight with Lu Yan and Chu the Vice Homeroom was going to kick him out for sure.
Though he quickly yanked the hat back on, Lu Yan’s stifled giggles kept bubbling up beside him.
Even as the physics teacher continued the lecture, Ying He was sure that Lu Yan wasn’t looking at the blackboard at all—just his damn head.
At the end of his rope, Ying He stabbed his notebook with a furious, jagged line.
Author’s Note:
Ying He: tmd (freaking) rich-boy idiot has the world’s lowest laugh threshold. What’s so funny about one bald patch? Just wait till I study in secret and crush you on the next exam.