The bookstore owner brought a chair and offered Zhang Shu the menu. Zhang Shu sat down, glanced at the menu without taking it, and said, “Plain water, thanks.”
Owner: “Anything else?”
Zhang Shu: “No, that’s all.”
The owner wanted to say something more, but after glancing at Sheng Xia, held back and just replied “Alright” before leaving with the menu.
These kinds of bookstores never made money from selling books – charging for seating was an unwritten rule. But since Sheng Xia and Tao Zhizhi were regulars and members, the owner didn’t insist.
Tao Zhizhi asked: “Classmate Zhang… Shu, have you had lunch? We still have pizza here, it’s really good.”
Sheng Xia held her head in her hands – how had her fiery best friend suddenly become so understanding?
“Already ate,” Zhang Shu said.
“Oh… okay.”
“Have you finished writing your speech?” Sheng Xia spoke up, saving Tao Zhizhi from the awkwardness.
Zhang Shu pulled a notebook from his bag, “Haven’t written the ending.”
Sheng Xia took it and quickly read through it. His writing was flat, lacking logic, full of slogans – like pieces cut from several different speeches and pasted together.
“Have you ever listened to other flag-raising ceremony speeches before?” Sheng Xia asked diplomatically.
Zhang Shu said: “Forced to endure several minutes of torture at fixed times every week – didn’t your Er Zhong have that?”
Um…
Tao Zhizhi’s gaze swept between the two. This academic god spoke without any hint of asking for favors, just as rumored – both arrogant and handsome.
His presence was quite strong; even Tao Zhizhi felt intimidated.
Unexpectedly, her friend Comrade Sheng Xia could now maintain her composure, even responding with some emotion, almost like a retort: “Then you should have a basic concept of flag-raising ceremony speeches.”
Meaning: you don’t, were you deaf?
Zhang Shu laughed, “Why don’t you explain?”
Sheng Xia put down her pen and picked up a pencil to mark Zhang Shu’s draft. Leaning slightly toward him, she explained slowly: “First, regarding the speech format, the address here…”
She spoke knowledgeably about the draft, offering suggestions that were both tactful and pertinent. Her voice was soft, sounding both earnest and hypnotic…
Tao Zhizhi was already drowsy, and listening made her even sleepier. She lay back down on the table to rest her eyes.
“That’s all for now,” Sheng Xia finished, returning the draft to Zhang Shu. “Why don’t you revise it now, and we can look at it again if needed?”
Zhang Shu moved his gaze from her warm-lit cheeks and took the draft, responding: “Alright.”
Sheng Xia nodded and returned to her practice papers.
Zhang Shu asked Sheng Xia: “Can I borrow your phone?”
Sheng Xia looked up questioningly.
“To check how others write, following your suggestion,” he waved his phone, “I’m out of data.”
Sheng Xia handed over her phone.
This brand of phone wasn’t common among high school students.
Zhang Shu raised his eyebrows – Liu Hui’an was right, her family was quite well-off.
It took him a while to find the browser. When he clicked the search bar, about to type, he saw the automatically displayed search history.
The top few entries were authors’ names and literary allusions. No wonder her Chinese was so good – she did plenty of extracurricular studying.
Looking further down, Zhang Shu’s eyes narrowed.
[What crime is copying/selling obscene books?]
…
…
…
Did such thorough research?
Zhang Shu couldn’t even smile anymore. He lifted his eyelids to look at the girl across from him.
She was working on a proof problem, moving her ruler back and forth on the paper, still unsure where to draw the auxiliary lines. So worried that she was biting her lower lip hard – her pink lips turning white, then quickly regaining color with a glossy sheen when released…
Zhang Shu quickly looked away, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he took a sip of water.
Before Sheng Xia had finished half her math paper, Zhang Shu had completed his speech. Sheng Xia found it much better than his first draft. He was truly intelligent – even though words couldn’t be solved like formulas, he understood everything immediately.
“I think it’s very good now, just lacking elevation at the end,” Sheng Xia offered another revision suggestion. “The ending is crucial in speeches – memorable speeches all inspire people at the conclusion.”
Sure enough, this was what Zhang Shu hated most. “Isn’t that just hyping people up? Still just shouting slogans.”
Sheng Xia: … She had just said slogans weren’t good.
“You could say that, but there are also very sincere endings that leave people wanting more,” Sheng Xia explained patiently.
Zhang Shu asked: “What makes it sincere?”
Sheng Xia thought briefly, biting her lip again. “Well…”