The morning exams were over, and the elite students of Class 4 had lost their spines.

Xie Lan was slightly better off. Math had salvaged his mood, especially after discovering he could understand every question, which made him feel like he was flying.

After the papers were collected, he looked up from the back row, and an idiom popped into his mind—a million corpses lying on the ground.

“Desk-mate! Herring desk-mate—” Che Ziming turned his head and wailed to the guy on his left with droopy eyebrows, “I’m dead. It’s one thing that Chinese isn’t my strong suit, but I screwed up Math, my strong suit.”

The boy called “Herring” (Yu Fei) said listlessly, “Don’t mention it. I’m capping at 110 for Math, okay?”

Pausing for a second, both turned their heads simultaneously, staring straight at Dou Sheng.

“Douzi, how did you do?”

Dou Sheng glanced up quickly from his phone screen. “So-so.”

“Dou Sheng also did so-so!”

The entire class, previously slumped on their desks, propped themselves up.

Those yearning eyes made a string of beautiful Chinese idioms pop into Xie Lan’s mind—

Withered trees meeting spring.
Rain after a long drought.
Terminal lucidity.
Infatuated men and resentful women.

Something seemed a bit off…

“What are you looking at me for?” Dou Sheng rolled his wrist. “Discussing it after the exam, got nothing else to do?”

Saying this, he reached out and pressed down on Xie Lan’s desk.

Xie Lan: “?”

Dou Sheng responded to his “kind” look with a smile, then lowered his head to continue playing on his phone.

“Oh right.” Che Ziming suddenly realized. “Forgot there’s a new handsome guy!”

Everyone realized: “Oh right.”

Xie Lan: “…”

He figured it out. Everyone in this elite class was an owl. Their way of expressing interest was just one word—stare.

Look, the one at ten o’clock wearing a white sweater, slightly chubby body, round eyes, dignified and festive—undoubtedly a Snowy Owl.

The one at two o’clock wearing a coffee-colored jacket, squinting slightly, sharp yet shy—an Eagle Owl.

After being stared at for a full half-minute, a girl with a high ponytail broke the ice. “I’m Dong Shuijing, the class monitor of Class 4. What’s the new student’s name?”

“His name is Xie Lan, I asked!” Che Ziming answered first. “Transfer student, right?”

Xie Lan gave a ‘Mmh’.

The people below immediately started chattering.

“From the Attached High School?”
“Didn’t they say there are no handsome guys in this batch at the Attached High?”
“Then No. 3 High? No. 9 High?”
“No. 3 and No. 9 have different strong subjects. Which do you use more often, Newton’s Second Law or the Squeeze Theorem?”

“…” Xie Lan felt his head starting to swell. “I went to school in the UK before. The school was Winchester.”

“Wow!”

The owls fluttered up.

“British accent!”
“Is British high school hard to apply to?”
“Going abroad in high school, IELTS must be 7.5, right?”

Che Ziming banged on his desk. “So did you go to middle school in the UK too? Elementary school? Why come back? taking the Gaokao here next year?”

A boy wearing silver-rimmed glasses with a gentle and elegant temperament spun a coffee bottle and asked, “Does the UK also separate Physics, Chemistry, and Biology? What’s the full score?”

“Boring.” Herring (Yu Fei) curled his lips, glancing back at Xie Lan. “Did you think the questions just now were hard?”

Xie Lan: “…”

“Are you guys done? My head is hurting listening to this.” Dou Sheng scoffed lightly, putting down his phone. “Going to the cafeteria?”

Choosing between one Dou Sheng and over forty owls, Xie Lan pretended to hesitate for five seconds, then stood up decisively.

Che Ziming targeted Dou Sheng again. “What’s your relationship?”

Dou Sheng thought for a moment. “Consider it—consider me a temporary guardian at school.”

Xie Lan: “?”
Owls: “What?”

Che Ziming savored the words. “Who guards whom?”

Dou Sheng smiled. “If you have the mind to dig into people’s backgrounds, why not recall how many people stay in Mathematical-Physics Class A?”

“…”

Che Ziming’s voice started to tremble. “Th… thirty!”

Like wind passing through a battlefield, dead silence everywhere.

Dou Sheng—Xie Lan was willing to call him the Owl Hunter.

Before leaving the classroom, Dou Sheng didn’t forget to add another blow. “The little white rabbit of Class 4 will get eaten alive out there. Last night I dreamed I failed the exam and got kicked out; woke up and my pillowcase was wet with tears.”

Owls: “…”

---

There was a small playground between the cafeteria and the main teaching building. A tree-lined path ran along one side of the playground. In early March, the trees hadn’t sprouted yet, their withered branches twisting menacingly.

The exam ran half an hour late, so there were only a few people at the window. While queuing, Xie Lan opened Messenger.

He dragged the screen down to scan. Xie Jingming had bombarded him with over seventy messages from last night until now. The latest one was from a few minutes ago, asking what he was eating for lunch.

Xie Jingming was, in most senses, a competent father. Growing up, Xie Lan was only dissatisfied with him about two things. One was his obsession with role-playing a British person. The other was that just two years after that person left, he had an intimate woman.

Looking at the screen full of alphabet letters, Xie Lan replied with a proper Chinese character.

“Mmh” (En)

A few seconds later, a new message popped up in the chat box: “My last one was a question.”

Xie Lan replied: “So you can speak Chinese.”

The chat box fell silent. He held the phone and gave Xie Jingming a one-minute chance. Receiving no reply, he closed Messenger.

The student ID card hadn’t been issued yet. He only had the temporary meal card Hu Xiujie gave him, stark white and somewhat dazzling.

Two meat dishes, one vegetable, rice as a staple, standard two egg tarts. Swipe cost 9.4 yuan. Cheap to a touching degree.

Shortly after sitting down, Che Ziming and Herring came over too.

Before sitting down, Herring greeted Xie Lan: “Hello, I’m Yu Fei.”

“The ‘Fei’ in tong che xin fei (heart-wrenching pain),” Che Ziming chimed in. “Don’t look at his droopy face all day; he’s actually a rich second generation, slapped silly by his dad’s money.”

“Get lost.”

Yu Fei was quite handsome, just always looking gloomy. His decadent expression seemed familiar.

Xie Lan remembered after a while; he looked like the French Bulldog his London neighbor kept.

Che Ziming was still blabbering about the exam.

“Oh my god, first time I’ve been dumbfounded by math. Never dropped below 135 before, this time breaking 100 will be hard.”

“Is that so?” Dou Sheng raised his eyes. “Just heard Old Ma talking to a teacher from another class on the way here. Didn’t expect even Class 4 to find it so hard; he’s very hurt.”

Che Ziming almost spat out the food in his mouth. “Fuck, what is this inexplicable guilt?”

They chatted in low voices and spoke fast. Xie Lan pricked up his ears, trying hard to practice listening.

“Douzi, how did you really do?”

Dou Sheng said, “So-so. Not sure if I can get full marks.”

“…Fuck.”

Che Ziming looked like he’d seen a ghost. “I shouldn’t have asked. Rushing to give you, the Pretence God, a chance every day.”

Xie Lan hadn’t heard the term “Pretence God” (Bi Shen), but guessed it wasn’t a compliment.

He didn’t want to appear uncultured, so he could only silently speculate based on context in his heart.

“Hey hey.” Che Ziming nudged him. “What about you?”

Xie Lan hesitated for a moment. “My Chinese isn’t good… What’s the usual score in your class?”

Dou Sheng, who was eating with his head down, suddenly curled the corner of his mouth, opened a bottle of mineral water, took a sip, and continued eating as if nothing happened.

Che Ziming thought for a moment. “Chinese scores aren’t very stable. The questions were hard this time, estimate a big drop.”

Xie Lan was just about to sigh in relief when he heard him continue, “Maybe just 115?”

“…”

Xie Lan estimated he’d get maybe 15.

Eating two egg tarts in silent withdrawal, he saw a tall, thin figure approaching from the corner of his eye. It was the one with silver-rimmed glasses, whom Dou Sheng said was called Dai You on the way here.

He greeted Che Ziming with a hum, walked between Dou Sheng and Xie Lan, bent down, and whispered, “That competition guy seems to have run into some trouble.”

Dou Sheng gave a hum, reached out to pinch the foil cup of the egg tart, tilted his head back, and poured the tart into his mouth.

Three seconds later, Adam’s apple moved. Egg tart disappearance jutsu.

Xie Lan: “?”

What did he just drink?

Dou Sheng snapped his fingers in front of Che Ziming. “Take my tray away.”

“You still have one tart left.” Che Ziming looked back. “Where are you going?”

Dou Sheng casually put the second egg tart onto Xie Lan’s plate. “Checking if there’s any business to mind.”

Dai You smiled, coaxing the restless Che Ziming with a tone used for little girls: “Eat your food. Want to keep kneeling for the Science Comprehensive?”

Yu Fei, who had been keeping his head down as if long asleep, suddenly lifted his eyelids. “Where?”

“That dead corner behind the cafeteria,” Dai You said. “Don’t follow. Too many people isn’t…”

He stopped mid-sentence. Xie Lan clearly didn’t understand much, but keenly looked towards the door.

Three people at the cafeteria entrance. Two wearing white T-shirts that were hard to believe were white Ts, covered in sprawling graffiti. One buzz cut, one long hair. Their temperament was clear at a glance—campus punks found in every country in the world.

The third one was unique. No one in Yingzhong wore school uniform pants. As for the reason… you’d understand once you saw those pants. But this person wore the whole set of jacket and pants. Dark skin, jacket zipped up to the chin, a bit of red sweater collar flipping out, wearing the school uniform with maximum tacky flavor.

The three were shoving their way over here. To be precise, Long Hair was pushing School Uniform, like spinning a top—walk two steps, give a whip. School Uniform’s steps were choppy and hurried, but he restrained himself, daring not to leave the range of that arm, getting whipped forward again and again.

Only when they were close to the gate did he turn back and ask, “Eat what?”

His voice was broken and hoarse. Long Hair slapped him on the head without a word!

Smack. The wide T-shirt sleeve hit the skull. Not much damage, but extremely insulting.

“Country bumpkin.” Long Hair patted his skull with his sleeve again and again. “Trained you to shut up, right? Don’t you know your accent hurts ears?”

The one called “Country bumpkin” didn’t dodge or make a sound. Instead, he raised his hand pointing at the window, asking with his eyes.

Long Hair said, “Eat whatever’s left. If not for dealing with you—”

“Ahem.” Buzz Cut cleared his throat beside him.

Long Hair glanced at the staff not far away and changed his tune. “Shut up and get food. Bring it over.”

“Country bumpkin” remained silent, turned, and walked to the window to get food.

“Fuck.” Che Ziming slammed his chopsticks down and was about to get up.

Dou Sheng reached out and pressed him back. “Eat your food.”

“Can you watch this? This bro is a math genius Old Ma dug up from Z Village to do competitions with him.”

Yu Fei poked at his scrambled eggs coldly. “Isn’t he not in our class yet?”

Che Ziming stared wide-eyed. “Is that human language?”

“Problem is he hasn’t fought back yet. Wouldn’t it be awkward if you went?”

Che Ziming froze, then suddenly remembered something after a while and looked at Dai You. “You saw it outside?”

Dai You looked at Dou Sheng. Dou Sheng didn’t make a sound, his slender fingers playing with the foil cup of the egg tart as if he suddenly developed a keen interest in that thing.

Not far away, “Country bumpkin” had already gotten three portions of food. Two were piled high, and one had only vegetables. When swiping his card, he took out a piece of floral cloth from his pocket, unwrapped several folds, revealing a temporary card just like Xie Lan’s.

His expression was very calm, as if he didn’t care about any of this.

Xie Lan snapped back to reality, just in time to hear Dou Sheng vaguely reply to Che Ziming, “Can’t strike first.”

Dai You also said, “Everyone, don’t actively cause trouble, understand?”

Che Ziming nodded helplessly. “Yeah, yeah, know it. Our Douzi isn’t an ordinary person. Million-strong army. Mind the influence.”

“What?”

Xie Lan’s chopsticks stiffened, asking Dou Sheng, “What million-strong army?”

“Ah.” Che Ziming said curiously, “You don’t know? He’s a big UP master (content creator) on Bilibili, followers just broke a million. Do you know Bilibili? It’s like your YouTube abroad.”

Dou Sheng was silent for two seconds. “Speaking of B, I suddenly remembered, is the answer to the last math question B?”

“Ah? B?” Che Ziming collapsed in a second, crying, “I hesitated between A, B, and C for ages and finally picked A.”

Dai You was amused by him. “There are only four options in total, bro.”

Xie Lan couldn’t smile.

Because he remembered yesterday at the airport convenience store, Dou Sheng was talking to his phone.

Suddenly had a bad premonition.

---

There was basically no break time at noon on exam days. Going back to wake up from food coma meant it was time. Three minutes before papers were handed out, Xie Lan glanced at the empty seat next to him, planning to quickly use the restroom.

The teaching building was a deep U-shape. Unfortunately, Class 4 was at this end of the U, and the boys’ restroom was at the other end. Luckily, Che Ziming said they could use the nearby staff restroom. The male teachers of the sophomore group were all at the other end and didn’t usually come here.

Just as Xie Lan paced to the door of the boys’ restroom, he glimpsed a tuft of familiar long hair through the small window on the door.

By the time he reacted, he had already opened the door. In the restroom, “Country bumpkin” was pinned against the sink, foam spilling from his mouth, liquid soap knocked over beside him.

Xie Lan froze. Long Hair and Buzz Cut also froze. The two sides stood still facing each other for a few seconds, “Country bumpkin” still maintaining the pose of being pinned against the sink edge.

A flush sounded from a stall inside. A familiar figure pushed the door open and walked out.

Dou Sheng looked calm, fingers pinching the two strings hanging from his waistband, tying a knot absent-mindedly, and pulling down his shirt hem.

Long Hair and Buzz Cut obviously didn’t expect one to barge in from outside, and another to be hiding inside. They seamlessly transitioned from the previous frozen state to the next frozen state, watching Dou Sheng walk straight past them.

Dou Sheng walked to the sink, picked up the liquid soap, squeezed it twice, and turned on the nearest faucet.

Water flowed out with a whoosh.

“Country bumpkin,” whose head was pinned, suddenly burst out with a few broken, hoarse roars of rage.

“Let go! Let go!!”
“Fuck your bloody mothers! Let go of me!”

Fine foam from the liquid soap trickled down the corner of his mouth and into his collar.

The sound of water stopped abruptly.

Dou Sheng turned off the faucet, tightened it, and spoke, “He said let go, did you hear?”

Long Hair opened his mouth and retorted, “Get lost.”

Dou Sheng glanced at him, pulled two paper towels to wipe his hands, and clearly and sharply said two words.

“Cai Bi (Noob/Weakling).”

Xie Lan, standing frozen outside the door, seemed to be instantly animated by these two words.

Another term he hadn’t heard, but thanks to Dou Sheng’s situational teaching method, his DNA awakened, and he instantly comprehended the meaning of these two words, unable to hold back a chuckle.

“Heh.”

Long Hair and Buzz Cut immediately looked over at him.

Xie Lan hurriedly explained, “Not laughing at you, just think his description is very vivid.”

The two: “…”

Xie Lan suspected there was a problem with his phrasing.

Because this explanation not only garnered a look of amazement from Dou Sheng but also directly pulled Long Hair’s aggro onto himself. Long Hair let go of “Country bumpkin” and charged at him aggressively. Passing by Dou Sheng, he was blocked by Dou Sheng’s hand to the chest, slammed back hard like a basketball intercepted in mid-air.

Palm hitting chest, a crisp sound echoed in the restroom.

Dou Sheng looked down at his palm, seemingly having difficulty accepting the fact that he had struck someone.

“Why are you hitting people?” he asked Long Hair.

Long Hair: “What the fuck?”

Buzz Cut, who had been silent since noon in the cafeteria, shouted a curse, “From Class 4, right? Looking for trouble, then let’s go!”

Dou Sheng didn’t react much. He walked over, pulled a hard square object from his pants pocket, and slapped it into Xie Lan’s hand.

“Hold this for me, go take your exam.” He whispered in his ear, “Don’t think too much, today is an accident. Yingzhong’s school atmosphere is actually very upright.”

Xie Lan: “?”

“You’re not allowed to tell my mom.” Dou Sheng added.

Xie Lan: “?”

Before he could react, he saw Dou Sheng turn around, lift his leg backward—a familiar move—and with a bang, kicked the door shut in front of him.

The sounds inside were cut off.

In the empty and quiet corridor, Xie Lan looked down at his palm—

A GoPro camera, with a label attached: “Fragile, do not touch, otherwise compensate 5299.”