Chapter 9

After school, a group of them sat around playing cards at the Billiards Hall behind the School.

Wang Luan'an leaned back in his chair, head drooping limply. 'Tests right after school starts — Zhuang Fangqin's insane.'

'Does your class send every test score to the parent group chat?'

'Don't even bring it up. My dad's gonna greet me with a baseball bat again.' Wang Luan'an looked at the person next to him with grateful eyes. 'Good thing I've got my bro here — I'll never be dead last.'

Yu Fan ignored him, dropping cards without looking up.

Zhang Xianjing, the only girl in the group, sat cross-legged sipping bubble tea. 'Isn't your deskmate the discipline officer? Didn't you copy anything?'

'Copy my ass. Discipline officer my ass,' Wang Luan'an fumed just thinking about it. 'His handwriting's as bad as Yu Fan's. I almost gave myself a squint trying to read it, and I couldn't make out a single — holy shit! I just played a 3 and you hit me with a pair of jokers?!'

'You're annoying,' Yu Fan said.

'...'

Zhang Xianjing laughed so hard she nearly wobbled over. 'But seriously, Yu Fan, turning in a blank test right at the start of the semester — not even guessing on the multiple choice — are you really trying to piss off Zhuang Fangqin?'

Mentioning the test made him think of someone again, and he threw his cards down a little harder than necessary.

'Can you score 90 just from guessing on multiple choice?' he asked.

Zhang Xianjing's eyebrow twitched. 'The multiple choice section doesn't even add up to 90 points.'

There it was.

Can't hit 90, so writing or not writing — same thing.

His fingers itched. Yu Fan reached into his pocket, wanting to grab a smoke to calm down.

Instead, he touched a rough piece of paper. He cursed under his breath and yanked his hand back out.

It was the scratch paper Chen Jingshen had handed him.

He'd meant to crumple it up and toss it, but right then Zhuang Fangqin had walked past the back door and called his name. On reflex, he'd shoved the ball of paper back into his pocket.

Yu Fan felt like he might develop an allergy to anything paper-based that came from Chen Jingshen.

'What's there to write on a test? I never do either,' Zuo Kuan said, cigarette dangling from his mouth, trying to look tough. 'The teachers don't even dare mess with me.'

Wang Luan'an: 'That's because your teachers can't be bothered with you.'

Zuo Kuan: 'Isn't that better? Your homeroom teacher — just hearing you guys talk about her pisses me off. If she were mine, I'd have —'

Slap. Yu Fan threw his last cards onto the table.

'Enough talk,' Yu Fan said. 'Face forward.'

Zuo Kuan: '...'

Half a minute later, Zuo Kuan had a marker-drawn turtle on his face.

'Fuck, rematch...' Zuo Kuan started, but the guy next to him nudged his arm. Zuo Kuan frowned. 'What?'

'Kuan-ge, look — that girl outside, isn't she the one who was chasing you before?'

'Who?' Wang Luan'an glanced outside.

Recognizing the girl hurrying away from the Billiards Hall, Zuo Kuan raised an eyebrow. 'No one. A girl from Class 3. Chased me for two months, brought me water and snacks every day. So annoying. And ugly too. Took me forever to shake her off.'

'Is that girl blind?' Zhang Xianjing said coolly, looking down at her Mobile Phone.

'Bullshit. I'm this good-looking — tons of people chase me, alright?' Zuo Kuan stared at his cards. 'The worst part? You know Class 3? They say it's the hidden liberal arts advanced class. She wrote me a letter every week, full of ancient poems and classical Chinese. I couldn't understand a fucking word —'

Yu Fan: 'How'd you shake her?'

The sudden question from someone who'd been silent caught Zuo Kuan off guard. 'What?'

'I said,' Yu Fan repeated, 'how'd you get rid of her?'

'Easy,' Zuo Kuan said. 'I blurred out her name on the letters she wrote me and posted them on her class's blackboard.'

Zhang Xianjing shot him a dirty look. 'You're such a jerk.'

'Ha? She was the one who kept bothering me.' Zuo Kuan said. 'Yu Fan, why're you asking? Got a girl chasing you?'

'Duh, like my bro's ever short on girls chasing him?' Wang Luan'an raised his eyebrows proudly, as if he were the one being chased. 'Yu Fan just got a love letter — fuck, Yu Fan, you jokered me again?! I'm on your team this round! I'm a fucking peasant too!!'

Yu Fan: 'So noisy.'

Zhang Xianjing put down her phone and leaned curiously over their card table. 'No way? Yu Fan, who gave you the love letter?'

Yu Fan: 'No one.'

'Come on, tell me,' Zhang Xianjing pressed. 'A first or second year? Are they cute? Do I know them? Could it be — Chen Jingshen?'

Yu Fan threw all his cards down.

He was about to deny it when he heard Zhang Xianjing continue: 'Is that Chen Jingshen?'

Yu Fan paused at that and turned to look outside the Billiards Hall.

Chen Jingshen had his back to them, standing not far from the back door. His schoolbag was slung over his shoulder, his hands hanging naturally at his sides.

He stood completely still, facing three rough-looking men.

'It really is him,' Wang Luan'an pressed his face to the glass. 'Those guys in front of him... aren't they from the other school? What are they doing?'

'What else would people from that crappy school come here for?' Zhang Xianjing said. 'Shaking him down.'

Yu Fan propped his elbows on the sofa behind him, watching the scene lazily.

There was a vocational school near theirs — pretty chaotic, always coming over to cause trouble. Hu Pang had spent a while patrolling the area to catch them, but with the new semester just starting, he'd been busy and let it slide.

The three guys blocking Chen Jingshen all had weirdly dyed hair, wore colorful long T-shirts and black skinny jeans — they could walk into a barbershop and start working immediately.

It made Chen Jingshen look even cleaner by comparison.

Zuo Kuan studied his expression and tested the waters. 'Yu Fan, you're not gonna do something? Isn't he in your class?'

Yu Fan didn't answer. He kept watching.

Do something my ass. Tons of people get shaken down every month — like he could deal with all of them? Was Hu Pang paying him protection money?

Besides.

Chen Jingshen might be a bookworm, but at least he'd had proper nutrition. His shoulders were twice as broad as those idiots in front of him, and he was half a head taller. If it weren't for that prim and proper aura making him look so pathetic, who'd believe those three scrawny monkeys were the ones shaking him down? If Chen Jingshen had any spine at all, if he just raised his fist and fought back, those three wouldn't be walking home straight today —

In the distance, the tall figure paused for a moment, then reached down to pull out some money.

Yu Fan: '?'

-

The three thugs looked at the boy in front of them, feeling uncertain themselves.

Honestly, they usually only targeted younger students or girls. But this guy... the sneakers on his feet were way too impressive. According to one thug's knowledge, they were close to five figures.

Plus, with his whole good-student look, the three of them decided together — go big or go home! Bike turns into motorcycle!

'You... hear me?' the leader said, gathering his courage and holding up his WeChat QR code. 'If you don't transfer five hundred over right now, we'll have to take you somewhere else for a chat.'

Chen Jingshen lowered his eyes, scanning their faces.

Only then did they realize — his good-student vibe was entirely propped up by that neat school uniform.

The boy had thin eyelids, sharp, clean facial lines — actually a cold-looking face. When he looked down at them from above, it made people's hearts tighten.

For a split second, they regretted their decision.

Chen Jingshen thought for two seconds, then reached into his pocket.

Maybe it was that look — the guy instinctively thought Chen Jingshen was going for a weapon or his phone to call the cops. He stumbled back two steps. 'What are you doing? Take your hand out, or I'll —'

His words cut off when Chen Jingshen pulled out money.

They stared dumbfounded as the boy casually counted out five red bills and handed them over.

'No WeChat. Cash.' The boy finally spoke, his first words to them.

For a moment, the thug felt dazed.

Why did he feel like a beggar receiving charity?

And also, what the fuck.

What was up with high schoolers these days? How did they have this much spending money just from going to school??

'No WeChat? Like I'd believe that. You don't chat with people? Don't play games? Don't date?'

At the last word, the thug paused, thinking this guy probably really didn't date.

He took the five hundred, his eyes still greedily fixed on Chen Jingshen's hand. 'Forget it. How much do you have on you? Hand it all over...'

An empty card box flew through the air, hitting the guy square on the forehead with perfect precision.

The box hit the ground with a clatter.

Stunned by the hit, the guy covered his forehead and looked behind the easy target. 'Who the fuck —'

He saw the face of the person approaching and shut up immediately.

Someone at their school had said: you can come to the neighboring high school to score some cash, but if you see a guy with two moles on his face who looks mean, get out fast.

Wasn't that this guy right here?

Chen Jingshen turned his head and saw his new deskmate.

Right now, the expression on his deskmate's face was the same as when he'd refused to let him copy the test — not very friendly.

Yu Fan wasn't looking at him.

'Give him his money back,' he said to the three of them. 'Then get lost.'

Their faces changed instantly. The one in the middle lifted his chin. 'Who the fuck do you think you are?'

'No way, you don't know him?' Wang Luan'an had followed over and slung an arm around the guy's shoulder, grinning. 'He just beat up that crew-cut kid from your school. You haven't heard?'

'...'

'They're probably still going to school these days, right? I saw the injuries — pretty bad.'

'...'

After about ten seconds, the guy — knowing when to bend — handed the money to Yu Fan.

Yu Fan didn't take it. 'Is that my money?'

The guy paused, then shifted his hand over to Chen Jingshen.

...

The group had barely turned to leave when Zhang Xianjing came over from the Billiards Hall. 'They're already gone? Such cowards.'

'They weren't that tough to begin with...' Wang Luan'an's words trailed off when he noticed the black-rimmed glasses suddenly on Zhang Xianjing's face.

'True.' Zhang Xianjing adjusted her glasses and turned to the boy beside her with feigned concern. 'Classmate Chen, you weren't scared, were you?'

Chen Jingshen put the money back in his pocket. 'No.'

Zhang Xianjing smiled sweetly. 'That's good. The area behind our school is pretty sketchy. You should be more careful from now on.'

Her tone gave Wang Luan'an goosebumps. He clicked his tongue and asked, 'Xueba, why were you so quick to hand over the money just now? The back gate security guard is still there — you could've just called him. Or at least put up a fight. They wouldn't dare make a big scene.'

Chen Jingshen said, 'Too much trouble.'

His expression was calm, his tone indifferent, as if he hadn't just immediately handed over money the moment he was shaken down.

Wang Luan'an: '...'

'How about this, Classmate Chen,' Zhang Xianjing's eyes curved into crescents. 'Want to add me on WeChat? If you ever run into trouble, you can find me, and I'll bring people to save you right away!'

She paused. 'Oh, you don't have WeChat, right? A phone number works too.'

Chen Jingshen was silent for two seconds, then recited a string of numbers.

Zhang Xianjing hadn't expected him to give it up so easily this time. She froze for a moment, then pulled out her phone. 'Wait wait wait, say it slower.'

Yu Fan regretted coming over almost the moment he did. He cursed himself for being bored, shoved one hand in his pocket, and turned to walk back.

He'd barely taken a step when his sleeve was grabbed.

Everyone else froze.

Yu Fan looked down instinctively and saw that familiar hand with its clearly defined knuckles on his clothes.

He pulled his sleeve back with some force.

It didn't budge.

Frowning, he lifted his eyes and said coldly, 'What do you want...'

'Can I add you on WeChat?' Chen Jingshen asked.

Yu Fan: '...'

Zhang Xianjing, who was in the middle of typing the number into her contacts: '?'