The classroom gradually filled up.
Around him, there were the usual chattering sounds.
In the monotonous school life, even something as simple as switching seats could become one of the few new experiences.
Even though they had been classmates for four years, some students still had to exchange a handshake as if they were establishing diplomatic relations.
In contrast, the atmosphere between Zhang Shutong and Gu Qiumian could only be described as awkward silence.
They were both busy packing their bags.
As for Gu Qiumian, her situation wasn't as important for now; Zhang Shutong was genuinely busy, trying to organize materials from eight years ago, which was proving to be quite a tedious task.
The next class was English. A glance around the room showed that someone had already placed their English test paper on the desk, indicating that they were about to go over the answers.
Finally, after organizing his things, Zhang Shutong found his English paper. He thought he was being slow, but when he looked at his desk mate, he realized she was still sorting her things.
Zhang Shutong smiled helplessly. She probably didn't want to talk to him but didn't want to look awkward by just sitting there, so she kept herself busy, trying to look occupied.
He could understand her thinking.
But isn't your arm tired?
During the break, he flipped through the test paper.
He had been worried about not keeping up with the lessons, but when he saw the questions, he realized they were quite simple. Of course, English was an exception. The most troublesome subject, Geography, was already over with the final exam. He wasn't too concerned about Chinese; it was all about accumulation. As for Mathematics... he still remembered the concepts in geometry and algebra, but he had forgotten the problem-solving methods. Perhaps going through some exercises could help.
Politics and History were subjects that relied purely on memorization. He had made thorough notes back then, and the teachers had always emphasized, 'If you pay attention now, you'll use this in the future.' In truth, it never proved useful in the future, but now it was coming in handy.
Moreover, he had always considered his memory to be quite reliable. Memorizing things had always been a breeze for him, as long as he sacrificed a bit of extra time. His main focus was on Mathematics.
Now that he had some clarity about his future study plan, Zhang Shutong quietly sat in his seat, observing everything around him.
While listening to his classmates chat, he had a sudden realization. In a strange twist of fate, he had ended up sitting in the oddest of places.
In front of him was Lu Qinglian, beside him was Gu Qiumian, and here he was, sitting with two of the 'victims' of the class.
This spot had terrible feng shui.
If there was a class reunion in eight years and the class monitor said, 'It's been a long time since we've seen everyone. There are three students missing today; let's guess who they are, but no prizes for correct answers…' Well, he wasn't exactly the best at humor.
Zhang Shutong, who had grown used to being alone, found it easy to let his thoughts wander when there was nothing to do. He then had a sudden thought: if the class had study groups, they could definitely give themselves the 'Quietest Group' award.
Even if they were participating in a 'no-talking challenge,' they would win first place hands down:
Lu Qinglian had always been quiet, and with her new desk mate, there was no interaction. Zhang Shutong was almost the same, while Gu Qiumian was at least doing better. But who could ignore the fact that there was an enemy sitting next to him?
He didn't mind the awkward silence; he actually found it quite nice. Looking at the snow outside the teaching building, everyone resting their chins in thought—it was a simple pleasure. He liked fishing partly for this reason; it allowed him time to zone out and reflect on things.
But Gu Qiumian didn't share his sentiment.
She frowned as she was still busy with her bag.
Zhang Shutong thought, 'You're practically studying your bag to death.'
Just then, a piece of an unnamed cookie was handed in front of him.
'Here, take this. Later, let me borrow the English test paper,' Gu Qiumian said, her face expressionless.
It seemed she really had been looking for something, and after searching for a while, she still hadn't found it, looking quite embarrassed.
Most people would have said, 'Can I borrow the English test paper? I accidentally forgot mine,' with a polite 'thank you' added in. But Gu Qiumian didn't bother with that.
Zhang Shutong thought that was very much in line with the 'princess' persona—paying for one thing, getting the other. He nodded, took the cookie, and pushed the English test paper toward her.
'This question isn't B, is it?' Gu Qiumian asked after looking at the paper for a while, not even glancing at him, in a stream-of-consciousness kind of way.
Zhang Shutong glanced at the paper and pointed to option A. While eating the cookie, he didn't have time to answer with words.
The cookie was surprisingly good, with a cheesy flavor.
But why was it salty?
After finishing chewing, he habitually explained, 'This is testing past progressive tense.'
He had once tutored people in English online.
Gu Qiumian didn't argue. If you explained something to her, she would think about it for a moment and nod if she understood. Unlike some students, who would raise their innocent faces and ask, 'Why do I feel this way…'
The teacher never knew either.
'Is there anything else you don't understand?'
'No.'
Another packet of cookies was handed to him. Gu Qiumian said she didn't like owing people favors. Zhang Shutong asked if he could exchange it for something sweet because he didn't like salty things.
'There isn't any.' She refused firmly and added, 'I'll bring it up tomorrow.'
'Never mind then.'
'You're sitting here just to eat cookies, aren't you?' Gu Qiumian said, her tone calm, but it carried a hint of sarcasm.
Zhang Shutong thought, 'How did we end up back here?'
He decided to compliment her, 'You draw funny faces well,' pointing at the glass, 'You've got some artistic talent.'
She snapped angrily, 'That's a sheep!'
'A sheep?' Zhang Shutong was stunned.
'A mountain goat or a sheep?'
'That's not even close.'
Gu Qiumian didn't respond; she just wiped the glass roughly and then shot him a fierce glare.
'What's with that look? My previous desk mate could tell what it was.'
'Yeah, yeah,' Zhang Shutong said, 'I'm sorry for breaking you two apart. Should I switch places with him?'
'Forget it. He's too annoying,' she rolled her eyes. 'You're annoying too, but at least you're quiet.'
It felt like they had suddenly become familiar with each other. Zhang Shutong decided to play along and wisely kept quiet.
By the way, that old desk mate... I think his name was Zhou Ziheng, the slightly dark-skinned guy he had seen recently.
Thinking about this, Zhang Shutong looked around the classroom, only to find that Zhou Ziheng was staring at him. When their gazes met, he quickly lowered his head.
Zhang Shutong withdrew his gaze, feeling puzzled.
Not long after, Du Kang rushed back, panting. He glanced at Lu Qinglian and then began making excessive facial expressions at Zhang Shutong. Zhang Shutong thought to himself, 'Too bad, the telepathic connection between us is long gone.'
I have no idea what you mean.
Their class had nearly sixty students, and the seats still weren't fully assigned. The class monitor asked Du Kang to hand out the milk during this time.
As Du Kang passed by Zhang Shutong's desk, he deliberately slowed down and whispered, 'I'm dizzy.'
Don't get dizzy. I almost want to faint after hearing that old joke.
Zhang Shutong had thought Du Kang was referring to the seat next to Lu Qinglian. He pointed at the empty seat with his school uniform on it, signaling that it had been saved for him. But to his surprise, Du Kang looked touched.
'That's enough, enough. I didn't expect you to do this much for me,' he said.
'What are you talking about? I really don't understand.' Zhang Shutong was utterly confused.
Then Du Kang kept talking, 'Though I've told you I want to sit behind Lu Qinglian, she happens to sit in front of Gu Qiumian. No one can do anything about that, right? You really don't have to bother Gu Qiumian for me. You can't just kick her out; it's still a failure.'
'But bro, 'to feed the tiger with your own body'—that's your fault, Shutong. As the old saying goes, a gentleman shouldn't stand beneath a dangerous wall. You see, Gu Qiumian is glaring at us...'
And then he quickly turned around and ran off.
'What were you two talking about?' Sure enough, Gu Qiumian's voice came from beside them. She sounded displeased. 'What's all this Gu Qiumian talk?'
'He originally wanted to sit next to you, but I took the spot. He's here to blame me,' Zhang Shutong answered calmly.
This explanation made sense. It was well-known that Du Kang liked Lu Qinglian, something Zhang Shutong had noticed even back in the day.
'Pfft.'
Once again, Gu Qiumian made that dismissive sound.
Soon after, Du Kang came running back, holding up a plastic bag with two boxes of milk inside. He handed them to Zhang Shutong.
'Strawberry flavor.'
'I don't want it. You deal with it,' Zhang Shutong hinted.
'Hey, there's only one seat, what's the big deal? You love strawberry milk,' Du Kang said, not giving up.
That's not true. Please don't say anything more. The tiger is already watching me.
Zhang Shutong pretended to be ready to poke Lu Qinglian with his pen, meaning, 'If you give it to me, I'll give it to her.' Only then did Du Kang quiet down, taking a step forward, hesitating for a while before saying:
'Uh, Lu, would you want some milk? There's some left today...'
'No thanks,' came a clear voice.
And that was the end of it. Du Kang had nothing more to say, and Zhang Shutong felt anxious for him. Come on, find an excuse. Offering milk because the weather is nice would at least be better than saying nothing.
But Du Kang was too afraid to look Lu Qinglian in the eyes. Just then, the class monitor had finished assigning seats, clapping his hands as if to hurry them along.
"Sit down quickly, enough talking!"
Du Kang quickly ran back, hoping the teacher wouldn't ask him why he hadn't offered to share the milk.
At that moment, a girl trying to fetch water squeaked, 'Hey, teacher, you forgot to ring the bell!'
Mr. Song smiled cruelly.
'You forgot the next class is mine.'
The class groaned in unison.
It was every teacher's habit to take advantage of breaks, and Mr. Song was no exception.
But the one thing he did well was allowing students to drink water during class.
Zhang Shutong didn't understand why some teachers had so many rules, even forbidding students from placing cups on their desks. But with Mr. Song, as long as you didn't eat during class, you could drink as much milk as you wanted.
Of course, many obedient students were used to drinking after class—like Lu Qinglian. She sat upright and gracefully, like a swan, stretching her neck as she reviewed the test paper.
And then there were the 'bad students.'
Like Zhang Shutong, who didn't have many rules with Mr. Song. He casually placed his straw into his milk.
Of course, he couldn't eat cookies anymore. People had to show mutual respect. Mr. Song had given him some leeway, and since he'd already said it was time for class, Zhang Shutong wouldn't act too special just because he had a good relationship with the teacher. That was something even his younger self would never have done.
Then there was Gu Qiumian, who wasn't like the others. While everyone else had student milk, she pulled out a special box of Tetra Pak milk from her Doraemon-like schoolbag and calmly inserted her straw.
How could someone like pure milk?
She didn't drink it immediately. It seemed she had just remembered something. She placed her student milk in front of Zhang Shutong and said, 'Here, take it.'
Would this be considered a benefit of sitting next to her?
Zhang Shutong thought, 'So this is why her old desk mate kept staring at me every day. Snacks when hungry, milk when thirsty.'
'Isn't this sweet enough? It's perfectly balanced,' she added, explaining before holding her Tetra Pak milk to her chest, her cheeks slightly puffed.
'Thanks,' Zhang Shutong replied.
And so, the lesson continued.
Their school still doesn't have multimedia equipment; there's only a projector beside the podium. When you put the test papers on the device, it will project onto the screen. When the sunlight is strong, they inevitably have to draw the curtains.
Then, Song Nanshan took out his dirty briefcase, saying, 'Quiet, quiet, you all take a look first,' while searching for the test papers inside. From time to time, he murmured to himself, 'Hey, I remember I put it here...'
Looking at this unreliable scene, Zhang Shutong only felt a sense of familiarity.
When he was a child, he thought that Song Nanshan was completely unlike an adult. On weekends, he would smoke in front of them without any hesitation; he also wanted to quit smoking and filled his drawer with lollipops. Whenever someone was upset, he would give them a lollipop. He never called students by their full names but used nicknames like Shutong, Ruoping, Qinglian, etc. Though he still couldn't define what maturity really is, Zhang Shutong genuinely felt that Song Nanshan was an excellent teacher.
But you wouldn't actually lose the test paper, would you?
Fortunately, after searching for a while, Song Nanshan finally found it, projected it onto the big screen. Some questions were marked with numbers, probably indicating how many students answered them wrong. You could also see some red oil stains at the lower left corner.
This was the sad reality of a single man.
The reason he understood this was because he himself used to eat while working.
But as soon as Song Nanshan started talking about the knowledge points, that unreliable air suddenly disappeared, as if he were a general in front of thousands of soldiers, confident and composed.
'This question looks complicated, but as long as you pay attention to the tense...'
'And this one, although there's a very rare word, it doesn't matter if you don't understand it. I'll teach you a trick—when 'but' shows a contrast, forget whatever was said before... um, just ignore it.'
When he spoke about the test paper, it was methodical, quick, and detailed, but for Zhang Shutong, these questions were a bit childish.
So he didn't listen to the class and took the opportunity to mentally review the test paper.
Another person who wasn't paying attention was Lu Qinglian. She lowered her head and was writing something with her pen.
'Now look at this, a typical question, I'm too lazy to explain it, didn't I emphasize it countless times before the exam? I'll say it one last time.' The teacher's 'last time' was never to be taken seriously. 'By the way, this week's homework has this question type too; the students who did it carefully should have noticed it, let's just go over it together.'
After saying this, Song Nanshan began flipping through his briefcase. He was originally in a good mood talking about the questions, but after searching for a while, he took the top book from the pile of books on the podium:
'Forget it, let's look at someone else's work. I had already written comments on it, but I'll write it on the board later. Everyone, don't daydream...'
Zhang Shutong had just finished the first box of student milk and was about to open the second one. He tore open the plastic, put the straw in his mouth, and couldn't help but laugh.
The familiar formula, the familiar taste, and the familiar unreliability.
Song Nanshan, still unaware of the 'affectionate general's' complaints, walked a few steps back to the equipment, turned his back, opened the cover, and looked quite satisfied.
'It's just right for Shutong. I'll have him come up and explain it to you later.'
Zhang Shutong paused.
Although he couldn't remember what the English homework was, with his level of English, he could definitely stand up and explain it better than the homeroom teacher.
So explaining the questions was never a problem.
The problem is... why did that 'book' become his book?
The 'Book' was sent to the projector, like a prisoner bound with five ropes waiting for the executioner's sword to fall.
Zhang Shutong suddenly felt a chill at the back of his neck. He had always trusted his intuition and instinctively stood up.
'Wait—'
But it was too late.
At that moment, the room fell silent. Some students were staring intently at the blank projector screen, while others whispered to each other.
The teacher, Song Nanshan, hurriedly flipped the 'Book' to the page with the homework. Zhang Shutong quickly stood up. The girl next to him, who had originally been looking down, happened to look up at that moment. His desk mate, a girl, was startled and turned to face him in surprise.
The scene seemed to freeze.
Next, under countless gazes, the screen of the projector displayed not yesterday's homework, but a piece of scrap paper.
The scrap paper had three names written on it: Zhang Shutong, Lu Qinglian, Gu Qiumian.
These three names were connected together, drawn in a triangle.
Everyone's eyes turned to Zhang Shutong.
Gu Qiumian's surprised expression seemed frozen on her face, but her whole face visibly turned red. Then, she shot him an angry glare:
"Give it to me!"
Zhang Shutong bit his soft lip, feeling pain.
He slowly sat down, the light straw still in his mouth, unconsciously taking a deep breath. The only thought left in his mind was:
'Can I Rewind?'