Fang Shumiao stood at the podium with the class roster, calling attendance.
As expected, several of the usual troublemakers — Ren Di among them — had skipped morning study hall again.
By the time she reached the end of the list, Fang Shumiao’s eyes had gone glassy with unshed tears.
Attendance at morning and evening study sessions was directly tied to the class officers’ performance record, which made it critically important to Fang Shumiao, who had her sights set on a position in the student council.
Unfortunately, this particular class was full of characters. Three days into her tenure, and Fang Shumiao had already started breaking out.
No one was paying attention to the class president at the front except Zhu Yun. Everyone else had their heads buried in their books. Especially Wu Mengxing, the advanced mathematics class representative in the far corner, who looked like he was about to press his face directly into the textbook.
Zhu Yun found this genuinely puzzling.
Advanced mathematics had only had one class so far. Teacher Zhang had covered three main points:
What does Advanced Mathematics cover?
What are the requirements for the Advanced Mathematics course?
How does one study Advanced Mathematics effectively?
Still, a dedicated student holding themselves to a higher standard — reviewing ahead of time — was nothing out of the ordinary. Zhu Yun adjusted her attitude and opened her book as well.
After lunch, Fang Shumiao left for a meeting. Ren Di had disappeared somewhere. Zhu Yun was alone in the room. It was too quiet; the afternoon sun was warm against her, and she dozed off without noticing. By the time she opened her eyes, she was already late.
Advanced mathematics — the homeroom teacher’s class.
Zhu Yun sprinted the whole way with her hair in a state of complete chaos, praying internally that attendance wouldn’t be taken.
In the classroom, Teacher Zhang was introducing calculus.
Moving like a thief, Zhu Yun crouched low, waited until Teacher Zhang turned back to the blackboard, and slipped in carefully through the back door, dropping into the nearest seat in the corner of the last row.
Still catching her breath, she turned to the person beside her.
“Did he — did he take——”
“No.”
…That voice.
Zhu Yun pushed the sleep-tangled hair out of her face.
Li Xun.
She had come in with her head so low that she hadn’t seen who it was.
“Thank you,” she said quietly.
Li Xun said nothing.
For students who had just survived the grueling final year of high school and worked through countless brutal practice exams, the introductory content of Advanced Mathematics was simple — little more than common knowledge.
The easy material gave Zhu Yun’s attention plenty of room to drift. For instance, she noticed that the person beside her was, at that moment, very focused — though not on Teacher Zhang at the front.
In fact, from the moment Zhu Yun had spoken to him, Li Xun had not looked at her once. His entire attention was directed downward, toward his lap.
There sat a laptop, roughly eleven or twelve inches.
Zhu Yun couldn’t look over too openly. She couldn’t tell exactly what he was doing, only that he was typing without pause, at a remarkable speed.
He should probably put something under that… Zhu Yun thought.
The way you’re going at it completely oblivious to everyone around you — someone’s going to notice.
Up front, Teacher Zhang called on the class representative to answer a question.
Wu Mengxing had perhaps studied too intensively in the morning and was now suffering the sluggishness of early afternoon. When his name was called, he was so flustered he could barely string words together.
“That is — it’s, it’s…”
Wu Mengxing’s face turned crimson. He stared at his book, too nervous to raise his head.
In the few seconds of silence that followed, the faint, rhythmic tapping from the back of the room became more noticeable than ever.
Before the whole class turned around to look, Zhu Yun gave a quiet cough.
It had absolutely no effect.
The top scorer was clearly in a state of complete absorption.
Having apparently hit some kind of snag, Li Xun’s brow creased and his keystrokes grew more forceful.
Up front, Wu Mengxing was still frozen. Teacher Zhang spoke in a patient tone: “Don’t be nervous — I just called on you to help you stay alert. Everyone’s the same — the first class of the afternoon is the hardest to get through. Hang in there.” He paused, and looked toward the back of the room. “That, um — Li Xun. Why don’t you take a try at it.”
His name was called and there was no response. Zhu Yun was hesitating over whether to formally alert him when the student on Li Xun’s other side spoke up.
“Hey. They’re calling you.”
He gave Li Xun a kick under the desk. Li Xun finally looked up.
That student, very quickly, in a voice audible only to those in the last row, said: “Practice exercise six. Decompose the composite function.”
The textbook had been open in front of him the whole time. Li Xun glanced down at it.
The student continued: “Start from the outside in. The first——”
Li Xun set the laptop on the floor and stood up.