Chapter 27

Ding Xian agreed.

As the midterms approached, a tense atmosphere permeated the entire classroom. It was as if everyone held a knife, diligently sharpening it, forgetting sleep and food, ready to charge into battle at any moment.

At this critical juncture, Ding Xian suddenly realized a serious problem—it seemed she had a touch of pseudomyopia.

It probably started during a certain math class. The densely packed words on the blackboard began to double. Every time, she had to crane her neck like a little duck, peering with narrowed eyes, just to see clearly.

Gradually, copying notes from the blackboard became a strenuous task.

Zhou Siyue didn't take notes either, so she didn't even know who to ask to catch up.

That evening, while eating dinner at home, Ding Xian mentioned getting glasses to Ye Wanxian. Ye Wanxian, holding her bowl, glanced at her, then put a chicken mid-wing into Ding Juncong's bowl, asking in return, "You're nearsighted?"

Ding Xian nodded.

Ye Wanxian put down her chopsticks, a little impatient: "I told you not to lean so close when reading, it hurts your eyes, it hurts your eyes. You never listen. You're already not as good-looking as others, and if you wear glasses on top of that, who's going to fancy you?"

'Which mother doesn't find her own child ugly?'

But some words, heard too often, really do hurt. Perhaps because Ye Wanxian knew Ding Xian was submissive, she spoke without much reservation.

"What row are you sitting in?" Ye Wanxian asked.

"Sixth."

Ye Wanxian didn't even lift her head, saying indifferently, "Tell your teacher to switch you to a front row seat for a while. Pseudomyopia doesn't require glasses, and I'm very busy recently and don't have time to go with you to get glasses."

'She probably doesn't want to spend the money.'

Ding Xian said nothing more, lowered her head, shoveled two mouthfuls of rice, and then returned to her room.

She didn't want to change seats, but Ye Wanxian had made her stance clear. The next day in class, Ding Xian still couldn't see clearly. She couldn't even understand the example problems the math teacher wrote on the blackboard, and by the time she tried to copy them, they were erased.

It was Zhou Siyue who first noticed the problem.

During lunch break that day, Zhou Siyue and Song Ziqi returned soaking wet from playing basketball. He saw Ding Xian hunched over her seat, trying to solve a problem—a very simple example problem that she had scribbled over several times in her scratchpad but still couldn't figure out.

Zhou Siyue couldn't stand it. He tossed the ball behind him, picked up the water bottle on the table, took two gulps, screwed on the cap, and said in a serious tone, "You still can't do this problem?"

Ding Xian, sprawled on the table, nodded lazily.

Zhou Siyue got even angrier at her self-defeating attitude. He tapped the mineral water bottle on her head: "I think you shouldn't even take the midterms. You can't even do this problem. If you get a dreadful score, I'm afraid you won't have the confidence to live on."

"..."

Ding Xian ignored him, continuing to scribble on her notebook, her heart also half-chilled: "Of course a study god like you wouldn't understand."

Zhou Siyue's mouth twitched. He pulled her paper over: "Alright, stop feeling sorry for yourself. Come here, I'll explain it to you again. The teacher explained this problem as an example so many times in class, didn't you listen?"

Ding Xian obediently leaned closer, "I listened, I just didn't understand..."

Another flick on the forehead, "You didn't understand, and you didn't ask?"

"I saw you've been quite busy lately, I was afraid to disturb you."

Zhou Siyue's recent competition class preliminary selection was indeed very intense. Not only did he have extra classes on weekends, but even in the evenings, Yang Weitao would pull him to do problems. Although he couldn't participate in the competition until next year, Yang Weitao had high expectations for Zhou Siyue.

"Don't worry about me, just take care of yourself," the boy grumbled.

Within two days, Young Master Zhou noticed something was off. After lunch, he escorted Ding Xian back to the classroom, pressed her into a seat, and then leaned against the back doorframe with his arms crossed, getting straight to the point: "Can you not see the blackboard?"

Ding Xian sighed, "There's a bit of double vision. I can see in other teachers' classes, but in math and Chinese, Teacher Zhan's and Teacher Yang's handwriting is small, so it's a bit difficult to copy."

Zhou Siyue looked down at her, peering.

"Did you tell your mom?"

Ding Xian lowered her head, "I did."

"What did she say?"

"She doesn't have time to take me to get glasses right now, and told me to ask the teacher to switch seats first."

"What do you think yourself?"

Zhou Siyue pulled up a chair, sat down, and turned to her.

'Of course, I don't want to switch.'

"Don't you have your private savings?"

She didn't want to touch that money. Ye Wanxian would definitely take her to get them later. If she went to get them quietly by herself, Ye Wanxian would definitely question where the money came from, so getting them herself was definitely not an option.

Zhou Siyue seemed to understand too, and nodded to her: "Got it."

After speaking, he stood up with his hands in his pockets.

"Where are you going?" Ding Xian called out to his tall, swaying figure.

"Toilet."

The boy, made languid by the sun, replied.

He was at the toilet for an entire lunch break.

When Zhou Siyue returned, he was holding a notebook. Ding Xian had just woken up. She saw him tuck the notebook into her desk, then handed her a cup of milk tea, saying blandly, "Bought it on the way."

Ding Xian, still groggy from sleep, her mind slow to process, stared blankly at the milk tea on the table.

It took her a good while to realize she should thank him.

"Thank you."

Zhou Siyue hooked the corner of his mouth, "No problem."

When lunch break ended, Ding Xian, having just woken up, was leaning against the wall, sipping milk tea. She bit the straw, taking tiny sips, like a kitten, her gaze fixed on the boy writing problems beside her.

Kong Shadi pounced over, blocking her view. The girl leaned into her ear and whispered, "Stare any harder, and your eyeballs will pop out."

Ding Xian started, her face reddening involuntarily. She shyly lowered her head, wishing she could find a crack in the ground to crawl into.

"He gave you that milk tea?"

Kong Shadi, whispering into her, spoke in a voice only the two of them could hear.

Ding Xian nodded.

Kong Shadi laughed even more cheerfully: "I knew it, you little rascal."

"How is it? Is it sweet?"

Ding Xian nodded again.

She didn't know why, but that midday, whenever she thought of him passing the milk tea shop and remembering her, her heart felt sweeter than if it had been filled with honey, and her cheeks were flushed.

Kong Shadi said, "Girl, this is a sign of springtime yearning."

Ding Xian pretended to be serious and shooed Kong Shadi away, but inside, a cup of milk tea had stirred up a storm of emotions. The wind whistled outside the window, and she was once again buried by her feelings.

After school that evening.

Ding Xian was still engrossed in Yang Weitao's extremely fast way of explaining problems when Zhou Siyue suddenly tossed her a notebook. She looked at it suspiciously, "What's this?"

Zhou Siyue didn't lift his head, packing his schoolbag: "Notes. Organize them yourself. I wrote down the important parts. If you don't understand, ask."

Having said that, he slung his bag over his shoulder and, without waiting for her reply, walked off with Song Ziqi, hands in his pockets.

Ding Xian stared blankly at the notebook.

Kong Shadi finished packing her things and came to call Ding Xian to go home together. Seeing the notebook on the table, she tried to pick it up and look, but Ding Xian pressed her hand down on it.

Kong Shadi looked at her suspiciously: "Why are you so unnecessarily nervous?"

Ding Xian shook her head.

Kong Shadi looked at her disdainfully: "This notebook is really ugly."

Ding Xian took a careful look at the bright green cover. It was indeed very ugly, a very 'straight man' aesthetic.

She quickly stuffed the notebook into her schoolbag, "Let's go home."

"So secretive."

Back home, Ding Xian hastily ate a couple of mouthfuls of rice, then hid in her room to study the notebook Zhou Siyue had given her.

Late at night.

Outside the window, figures were sparse, and tree shadows flickered.

He took notes very concisely.

There weren't many notes for a single class, but all the key points were marked by him. Ding Xian transcribed all the content into her own notebook and highlighted it with a red pen.

This was truly much less effort than her usual blind pondering.

Zhou Siyue's handwriting was very good, strong and powerful, piercing the paper. When he was perfunctory, it was also very sloppy and flamboyant. Sometimes, his paper was so messy that Zhan Wenli would deduct several points.

But when he wrote seriously, his handwriting was very beautiful.

Before bed, Ding Xian lay on her bed, holding this ugly green notebook, carefully flipping through it. Unknowingly, she fell asleep.

When she woke up in the morning, she found that the notebook had been folded horizontally, leaving a crease.

Ding Xian kept it pressed under things in her drawer all morning, but couldn't smooth it out. During English class, Zhou Siyue asked her for the notebook. Ding Xian handed it over, "I accidentally creased it yesterday."

Zhou Siyue didn't seem to care about that. He flipped through the notebook, "Understood everything?"

Ding Xian nodded, "Understood."

The two exchanged a smile, and the atmosphere was harmonious. Zhou Siyue tossed the notebook onto the table, leaned back in his chair, one hand resting on the desk, and said with a raised eyebrow and a smile, "Alright, are you happy now?"

"I... I wasn't unhappy."

"Come on, you had a tense look on your face for the past few days. I thought I had offended you again."

He leaned forward, refocusing his attention on his test papers: "I'm not going to chat with you anymore. Help me keep an eye on Yu Shujun. I haven't finished my competition paper because I was taking notes for you yesterday."

"Don't worry, I'll poke you if she gets within two meters."

Zhou Siyue: "Good girl."

During this time, their understanding grew. Zhou Siyue helped her take notes, acting as her 'glasses'; Ding Xian, in turn, covered for him in various ways during class, acting as his radar.

The radar malfunctioned once. Yu Shujun was almost in front of Zhou Siyue, and Ding Xian hadn't reacted yet. Zhou Siyue was caught red-handed. However, Yu Shujun had always been fond of Zhou Siyue, so she didn't make it difficult for him, only reminded him twice to put away his test paper.

Zhou Siyue rarely argued with teachers and obediently put away his paper.

After class, the two began to act out 'begging for forgiveness with thorns on one's back.'

"I was wrong, I was distracted just now. Please forgive me."

Ding Xian pouted, using her fingers to mimic knees, pretending to 'kneel down' to apologize to him.

Zhou Siyue shook his head, looking heartbroken: "What use are you to me, Your Majesty!"

Ding Xian bent her fingers twice more, "Your humble servant knows her mistake."

By the end of their act, both of them burst out laughing. In the slightly tipsy afternoon sun, Ding Xian seemed to see a long-awaited rainbow, and suddenly realized that this age, where one could spend freely, was truly called youth.

Unwillingness, loss, joy, satisfaction.

A myriad of emotions flourished.

Time stepped into December, winter arrived, and the north wind was like an ice knife.

Three days before the midterm exams, Zhan Wenli called Ding Xian to the office. As soon as she pushed open the door, she heard Yang Weitao complaining to Liu Jiang: "That He Xingwen in your class is really not cut out for competitions. His test results haven't been ideal several times, and he can't out-solve Zhou Siyue in practice problems. I just don't know why he insists on participating in competitions."

Liu Jiang sighed: "He's already signed up, just see how it goes."

"He's well-rounded in all aspects and could get into university through exams, but he insists on taking the recommended admission path."

"I don't like to hear that. Does Zhou Siyue necessarily have to be recommended? If he studied seriously for the exams, he could also get into a good university."

Yang Weitao shook his head: "You don't know, Zhou Siyue is naturally gifted for competitions, it's different. If you made him study seriously for regular exams, he might not necessarily get in."

Liu Jiang laughed: "Alright, He Xingwen is also good. I know you like the Zhou Siyue type, but we can't hinder a good student either."

Ding Xian, hugging her notebook, walked out of the office.

She saw a figure resembling He Xingwen turn into the stairwell.