Chapter 45: Can We Have a Little Understanding?

It had been a long time since Wen Zhixia experienced such a vibrant, brimming state of mind. It was like waking up naturally from a dreamless sleep, pulling open the curtains to find the sun shining brightly and the world crisp and clear, as if the entire universe was enveloping her in a gentle embrace, leaving her utterly refreshed upon waking.

Was it truly the difference in technique, or was it something more—a peculiar sensation born from the rare intimacy of this moment in her youthful life, a closeness with the opposite sex she had scarcely known?

The reserved girl was reluctant to admit it, but she could not deny that ever since Chen Shian’s fingers had gently pressed at the corner of her eye, her heartbeat had been fluttering at an unsteady rhythm. It was not particularly warm, yet the heat pumped from her heart seemed to suffuse her entire body, making her feel flushed all over.

As they walked and talked, Wen Zhixia seized these few precious moments on the way to school to help him practice his spoken English.

“Afternoon. The weather is very nice this afternoon~”

“Af-fu-tu-nen?”

“No, not af-fu-tu-nen, it’s afternoon~ You can split it into three syllables, af-ter-noon~ The ‘a’ and the ‘ə’ should be softened, then the ‘u:’…”

Wen Zhixia taught with earnest patience.

Luckily, her cousin wasn’t here, or she would surely have sent a message with a questioning emoji.

“Afternoon?”

“Yes! Yes! That’s very standard this time!”

To be honest, for someone who’s been through it, English really does seem simple. After all, starting nearly twenty years ago, English was part of elementary curriculum, and unless you grew up in some remote island or mountain village, most schools started teaching it by third grade. These days, you can’t go far in daily life without hearing or seeing a few English words.

But English is like swimming—the younger you are, the more easily you pick it up. As you grow older, your muscles and pronunciation habits become ingrained, making it difficult to correct your accent. Even Wen Zhixia, who always scored over 140 points in English, didn’t dare call her own spoken English “authentic.”

At first, Chen Shian’s pronunciation was stiff, but his progress was astounding, thanks to his extraordinary mental and physical discipline. In just a short practice, his pronunciation became quite passable.

“You said this was British English—does American English sound different?” Chen Shian asked curiously.

“Yes, it’s different. What we learn is mainly British, but with some American elements mixed in. Just follow the textbook for now, and I’ll recommend a few English movies for you to watch. The more you hear and speak, the better your conversation and grammar will get.”

“I see.”

Without realizing, the two had already walked side by side into the school, and entered the teaching building.

“I really envy your class—the floor is so low, you don’t even have to climb stairs. The school should really swap the floors for the science and liberal arts classes.”

“You envy the priests, you envy the cats, and now you envy the classroom floor?” Chen Shian chuckled. “Our class is on the second floor, we still have to climb stairs. Yours is on the fourth, just two more. The classes on the seventh floor might even envy you.”

“Oh, right, here, this is for you.”

At the stairwell on the second floor, just before they parted, Wen Zhixia reached into her large bag of breakfast and pulled out a warm cup of soy milk, pressing it into his hand.

“Treating me to soy milk again?”

“It’s homemade—it’s free. Take it, take it. I’m off now, bye! If you want to have lunch together, wait for me on the first floor~!”

With that, the girl waved her small hand, hefted her big bag of breakfast, slung her backpack, and dashed upstairs.

…

Chen Shian timed his arrival perfectly, just as he had the day before, reaching the classroom three minutes ahead of the scheduled time.

Most of the class was already there, the scene almost a replay of yesterday: some sitting and reading, others eating breakfast, some chatting, and a few wandering back and forth, seemingly aimless.

But today, there seemed to be more people moving around—turns out the group leaders were handing out blank math worksheets for practice, not for testing.

There was one on Chen Shian’s desk as well, just delivered, placed somewhat carelessly. As a student passed by in the aisle, their coat brushed against it, and the sheet fluttered to the floor like an autumn leaf.

It didn’t stay there for long.

His deskmate, a quiet girl, turned, bending to pick it up. Her smooth dark hair slid from her shoulder, brushing her cheek, and her delicate hand reached out to retrieve the fallen paper. Before she had straightened up, a familiar pair of black canvas shoes appeared in her field of vision.

Her gaze sharpened slightly. As she straightened with the paper in hand, her eyes traveled up from the shoes until they settled on Chen Shian’s face.

“Thank you, class monitor.”

“Mm.”

Since he had witnessed it, Lin Mengqiu said no more—it was a simple thing, after all. Even if her deskmate were someone else, she would have picked up the sheet all the same.

She placed the test paper back on his desk, pulled her outstretched leg back under the table, and sat properly in her seat once more.

She gazed at her own blank math worksheet, but out of the corner of her eye, she secretly watched Chen Shian’s actions.

He set down his soy milk, unhooked his backpack, hung it on the side of the desk, and pulled out his chair to sit down. When he wasn’t there, her side of the desk felt open and spacious; now that he was seated, it was as if he had boxed her in, the space feeling a little cramped—but it wasn’t as suffocating as it had first been. She was gradually growing used to having a deskmate.

“Math worksheet, huh…”

Chen Shian picked up the sheet and looked at it.

Lin Mengqiu didn’t answer; he seemed to be talking to himself.

He had already studied half the content of the seventh-grade math textbook just yesterday, yet looking at this worksheet now, it still seemed like an indecipherable script. As he pondered whether he should follow everyone else and do the assignment, the class monitor spoke up—

“You’re late today.”

“Huh?”

Chen Shian stared at her, a little confused by the abrupt shift in topic. Glancing at the clock at the back of the classroom, he realized there were still two minutes before the required time.

“It’s our turn for classroom duty. You need to come early to take out the trash.”

“Oh—”

Again with the “oh!” One more “oh!” and I’ll dock a point!

Lin Mengqiu’s words finally made things clear for Chen Shian.

“We take out the trash in the morning too?”

“Yes.”

“Sorry, I thought we only did it after cleaning in the afternoon. I’ll go now.”

School rules had to be followed, and everyone had a turn at classroom duty. Chen Shian put down the worksheet and stood up, heading to the trash bin at the back.

The classroom bin was large, a giant white plastic container with handles on both sides. Yesterday’s duty students had emptied it in the evening, but after a night of self-study, it was already half full again.

It wasn’t heavy, just bulky—awkward for one person to carry.

Chen Shian dragged it out of the corner, intending to carry it out himself, but as he turned, he saw Lin Mengqiu approaching.

“What is it, class monitor?”

The girl was stunned to see him lifting the giant bin alone—not at his strength, but that he intended to take the trash out by himself. Did he really have no sense of school life? Who does classroom duty alone? It was always two people.

“Why—why are you doing that?” Lin Mengqiu didn’t answer his question but asked her own. She felt she owed her sudden verbosity these days entirely to Chen Shian.

“Didn’t you just say we needed to take out the trash?”

“…How could you do it alone? I never said you had to go by yourself.”

“‘Today is our duty day, you—need to come to the classroom early to take out the trash,’” Chen Shian quoted her words, his memory serving him well, even exaggerating the emphasis at key points.

“…”

That’s not what I meant at all! Even if I misspoke, hasn’t it always been two people for this chore? Idiot!

“I’ll go with you.”

“‘Today is our duty day, you need to come early to the classroom, we need to take out the trash.’”

The infuriating priest didn’t respond to her directly, just repeated the sentence with a slight adjustment.

He was about to tease Lin Mengqiu—“Is that a more accurate way to put it?”—but when he met her cold gaze, the words caught in his throat and he swallowed them.

“…Fine, let’s go together. This bin is really big anyway, not easy for one to carry.”

Chen Shian set the trash bin down and moved to one of the handles.

Lin Mengqiu reached out—not for the handle, but to hand him a tissue.

“Hm?”

Lin Mengqiu said nothing. After passing him the tissue, she wrapped another one around her own side of the handle before gripping it.

Meticulous, wasn’t she?

Chen Shian realized what the tissue was for, and copied her, wrapping his hand before grabbing the bin.

“Ready to go?”

“Mm.”

The space at the back of the classroom was tight—they couldn’t walk side by side, so they carried the bin front and back.

But it seemed they weren’t in sync—Chen Shian walked slowly in front, Lin Mengqiu hurried behind, especially as she noticed curious glances from classmates. Feeling awkward, she just wanted to get out quickly.

So, one moved slow, the other fast, and the bin bumped into Chen Shian’s heel.

At last, they made it out the door.

Without coordination, one wanted to go left, the other right, and with a clatter, the bin was hoisted awkwardly between them. If it had a mind of its own, it might have wished to collapse then and there.

“Aren’t we taking the right staircase?”

“The trash area is by the back gate; it’s closer to go down the left stairs.”

“Oh—”

Ahhh! The girl was about to explode…

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