Chapter 9: A Punch That Doesn’t Hurt—That’s What Youth Is All About

Su Miaomiao slowly set her book down, politely refraining from interrupting as she watched, with genuine appreciation, the crew-cut boy sitting in the corner.

At that moment, Lu Yuanqiu stumbled upon an unfamiliar word. His pleasant British accent came to a halt, and he lifted his gaze to meet Su Miaomiao's eyes.

The young English teacher was briefly startled, but quickly lowered her head to prompt him on the correct pronunciation. Yet, an awkward expression flickered across her face, as if her not-so-perfect American accent had somehow sullied Lu Yuanqiu’s impeccable British intonation.

Only then did Lu Yuanqiu continue, reading the first paragraph through in its entirety.

Su Miaomiao set her textbook down once more, a smile breaking across her face—one of utter surprise and astonishment.

“Lu Yuanqiu.”

She called his name in disbelief.

Lu Yuanqiu replied with utmost seriousness, “Present.”

Su Miaomiao habitually perched on the edge of a nearby desk, one elegantly stocking-clad leg bent slightly, a movement that made Zhong Jincheng’s eyes light up from his seat in the corner.

“What did you do this holiday? Studied abroad? That can’t be all,” Su Miaomiao voiced the question lingering in every student’s mind.

She was well aware of Lu Yuanqiu’s English proficiency. Never mind his spoken English—even the pronunciation of many words was a challenge for him.

How had he transformed so completely over a single break?

Lu Yuanqiu answered solemnly, “Of course, I worked hard and studied diligently. I intend to go to university, after all.”

At these words, a flicker of surprise and delight appeared in Bai Qingxia’s eyes.

But in the corner, Zhong Jincheng suddenly burst out laughing, “Work hard? Which wall are you planning to smear with dung?”

Bai Qingxia shot him a silent glare.

The class erupted into laughter at Zhong Jincheng’s quip.

But Hu Caiwei did not join in. She had no wish for Lu Yuanqiu to excel in any other area.

Lu Yuanqiu barked coldly, “Zhong Jincheng, put your gun away!”

A gun?

On hearing this, Su Miaomiao glanced over. Zhong Jincheng, startled, quickly placed both hands flat on his desk, his expression sheepish.

Once Su Miaomiao turned away, Zhong Jincheng silently mouthed curses at Lu Yuanqiu, flashing two middle fingers in his direction.

Lu Yuanqiu responded in kind.

Su Miaomiao approached Lu Yuanqiu and patted his shoulder. “Good. Your ambition makes me truly happy. I have high hopes for you, Lu Yuanqiu. Sit down.”

Her tone was gentle, and her eyes—usually reserved for the underachiever—were now brimming with genuine admiration.

Lu Yuanqiu sat down, turning smugly to look at Bai Qingxia, raising an eyebrow. She withdrew her gaze, her cool, delicate face betraying no reaction.

After all, what’s the point of living again if you don’t come with a few extra skills?

The truth was, Lu Yuanqiu’s business had expanded overseas years before, and he’d spent five years there, forced into daily spoken English. It would have been strange not to have adapted.

Truth be told, this act felt amazing—Lu Yuanqiu grinned and slapped his thigh.

Bai Qingxia, startled, jerked her leg away and, unable to bear it, landed a small fist on his arm, her beautiful eyes flashing with irritation.

“If you slap my leg again, I’ll tell the homeroom teacher.”

“I… I swear it was a mistake, I meant to slap my own…”

Lu Yuanqiu offered an explanation, but Bai Qingxia ignored him.

And yet, that punch to his arm didn’t hurt—it was oddly satisfying.

Lu Yuanqiu chuckled. A painless punch—that’s the feeling of youth.

He patted her arm. “I’ll help you with your spoken English from now on, and you help me with my other subjects. How about it?”

Bai Qingxia was about to respond when her expression stiffened and she quickly looked down at her desk.

What is it?

Lu Yuanqiu turned to see Zhong Jincheng, by the door, sitting at attention with a grave expression.

Out the window, just ahead of him, a face appeared, watching them with a ghostly intensity—her gaze fixed squarely on Lu Yuanqiu.

It was their homeroom teacher, Liu Wei, suddenly looming outside the window, her presence so chilling that Lu Yuanqiu’s shoulders tensed and he instinctively straightened in his seat.

When is a homeroom teacher at her most terrifying? When she’s standing outside the window.

No matter how many years he’d lived, Lu Yuanqiu could never escape that primal fear.

After Liu Wei left, Lu Yuanqiu noticed a slip of paper slowly appearing in his field of vision.

Bai Qingxia’s handwriting—sharp yet elegant—read: [Yes.]

She agreed to help tutor him?

Excellent.

Lu Yuanqiu felt a surge of satisfaction. Perhaps, with enough effort this year, he really could get into a good university.

He focused seriously on his textbook, sat up straight, and began listening attentively.

Five minutes later, Lu Yuanqiu was sprawled out on his desk, fast asleep…

From the back of the classroom, his snores and Zheng Yifeng’s blended in perfect harmony.

At that moment, a breeze lifted the curtain, unfurling it like a painted scroll to reveal the azure sky and billowing white clouds outside.

A shaft of sunlight struck Lu Yuanqiu’s sleeping face, making him frown and scratch his cheek.

In the next moment, a slender, fair hand reached up to draw the curtain closed. Once the shadow fell fully over Lu Yuanqiu’s face, smoothing his brow, Bai Qingxia finally lowered her head and resumed her diligent note-taking.

“Now, please complete the multiple-choice questions at the end. We’ll check the answers in five minutes.”

Soon, Su Miaomiao’s voice sounded closer. Bai Qingxia looked up to see the English teacher walking slowly down the aisle, checking on students as she passed.

Su Miaomiao was nearly at Lu Yuanqiu’s desk.

Nervously, Bai Qingxia glanced over and quickly tapped Lu Yuanqiu’s arm.

He jolted upright, shaking his leg and twirling his pen, pretending to be engrossed in the textbook.

Seeing this, Bai Qingxia quickly reached out and turned his book to the exercises at the back.

Just then, Su Miaomiao passed by. She glanced over lightly and moved on.

Bai Qingxia let out a breath of relief.

Lu Yuanqiu promptly laid his head back down and continued napping.

On the other side, the sound of Su Miaomiao slapping Zheng Yifeng's face with the textbook rang out. Watching Lu Yuanqiu sleeping like a child, with half his face creased, Bai Qingxia pressed her lips together in a smile.

She was happy. Before, she could only watch from afar as Lu Yuanqiu slept through class and got scolded—never able to reach out and help.

But today she’d managed to warn him, allowing him to evade the teacher.

Her sense of satisfaction and accomplishment was odd, yet undeniable.

She turned back to her exercises.

The autumn wind was cool and gentle.

A breeze drifted in through the window, tossing the girl’s hair across her delicate face, obscuring her vision. Bai Qingxia instinctively raised her slender fingers and tucked the stray strands behind her ear.

Just then, a pink hair clip slid onto her desk.

The girl looked up, momentarily stunned.

She glanced at Lu Yuanqiu, but he had already shifted to another sleeping position, turning his face away.

ps.

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