MM | Chapter 25

Capsized

Yeah, what’s there to panic about?

Sheng Wang didn’t say anything. His expression was slightly dazed, as if he couldn’t dig out an answer.

Downstairs, Sheng Mingyang had already closed the door, and the keys made a light clinking sound on the hallway cabinet. He changed into soft-soled slippers, his footsteps muffled as they extended from the living room to the kitchen.

After a moment, there was another sound of the door, and another set of footsteps joined in the kitchen.

Perhaps it was because of the deep night, or maybe because Sheng Wang’s back was against the door, but Jiang Ou’s voice, though not loud, faintly reached his ears.

“Why didn’t you say anything when you arrived? Is the matter resolved?” Jiang Ou asked.

“Not yet, I have to go back later,” Sheng Mingyang said. “It’s a bit troublesome.”

“Did you have dinner?”

“I had some airplane food, but now I’m a bit hungry, looking for something to snack on.”

“There’s chicken soup, should I heat it up for you?”

“No, too noisy.”

Sheng Mingyang said something in a low voice, probably worried about disturbing Sheng Wang and Jiang Tian upstairs. Jiang Ou’s voice lowered too, and their conversation became indistinct, like a distant hum.

Sheng Mingyang must have found something in the fridge to tide him over, and soon after, they returned to their rooms. The house gradually returned to its usual quiet.

Water droplets fell from Jiang Tian’s forehead, and he grabbed a towel to wipe them away.

Sheng Wang’s shoulder and neck muscles slowly relaxed. The momentary panic was like a fleeting shadow, disappearing without a trace. Unable to figure it out, he casually offered a reason: “My dad’s nagging. If he finds out I’m still awake, he’ll start lecturing—why aren’t you resting at this hour? Haven’t finished your homework or wasted time playing?”

Sheng Wang lowered his voice to mimic his dad, capturing the tone perfectly. He walked to the desk and casually put down his papers: “If you say the homework isn’t done, he’ll immediately ask if it’s too hard or too much, if everyone else is the same or just you. If you say you’re reviewing for the monthly exam, he’ll ask how the review is going and if you’re confident. After asking, he’ll say having pressure is good, but not too much. Then he’ll start pouring chicken soup for the soul.”

This routine was too familiar, seen in many parents. Jiang Tian couldn’t help but laugh at the latter part, and Sheng Wang laughed along: “Doesn’t it make your head buzz? Wouldn’t you panic?”

Jiang Tian placed the glass of water on the table and took the towel off his neck to dry his hair: “Does he really talk that much?”

“Not really. He’s usually too busy to ask, so when he gets a chance, he wants to make the most of it. With a bit of—” Sheng Wang pursed his lips, pondering for a few seconds, “a sense of compensation, you know?”

Jiang Tian paused, glancing at Sheng Wang’s face, but saw that he was busy marking pages in his practice book, showing no emotional issues.

“But Sheng Mingyang is different from many parents. He doesn’t have high expectations for my grades and never says harsh words. After the chicken soup, he’ll even praise me.” Sheng Wang held the book and looked up at Jiang Tian, mimicking, “Our Sheng Wang has the ability, Dad believes in you.”

Jiang Tian, amidst his complaints, walked to the corner, tossed the towel into the laundry bag, and straightened up, saying, “Shouldn’t he call you Wang Zai?”

“…”

Sheng Wang instantly fell silent, his expression a mix of emotions.

A few seconds later, he pointed at Jiang Tian and managed to say, “Shut up.”

It was rare for anyone to tell Jiang Tian to shut up, as he was usually the one telling others. He raised an eyebrow, nodding to show he could reluctantly cooperate.

Sheng Wang was quite satisfied.

He pulled out a chair and sat down, then picked up a workbook and asked Jiang Tian, “Hey, have you done anything similar to these two questions?”

The Affiliated High School didn’t mandate specific workbooks, and teachers recommended some based on students’ needs.

The teachers in Class A didn’t advocate excessive practice. A certain amount of exposure was necessary, but too much repetition was unnecessary. When recommending, they would mention the pros and cons of different workbooks, letting students choose.

The content of the workbooks was similar, with differences in compilation and question selection. Teachers said buying one or two was enough, combining strengths and weaknesses, and not every question needed to be done.

So, some difficult problems might be familiar to one student but not another.

Jiang Tian glanced at the book in Sheng Wang’s hand and sat by the window.

Sheng Wang waited for a while without a response, so he kicked Jiang Tian’s slipper: “Hey.”

No response.

Sheng Wang kicked again: “Jiang Tian.”

Still no response.

Sheng Wang: “…Top student?”

Still nothing.

Sheng Wang lowered the book, leaned on his knee, and sighed.

“Stop being silent, say something.” He was familiar with this routine, speaking without hesitation: “I was wrong, okay?”

Jiang Tian finally regained his hearing, reaching out: “Let me see the questions.”

Sheng Wang handed him the book, pointing with his mouth, “Questions 12 and 13, I marked them.”

“I’ve done them,” Jiang Tian said after a glance. “The last part?”

“Yeah, I’m stuck there,” Sheng Wang admitted. “I wrote the equation but got stuck.”

“Getting stuck is normal. The last part is a bit beyond the syllabus, needs some integration,” Jiang Tian explained.

“What ‘ji’? Which ‘ji’?” Sheng Wang didn’t catch on.

“Integration from calculus,” Jiang Tian said.

“Wait a minute,” Sheng Wang asked, “Is it the calculus I’m thinking of? The college one?”

“Yes.”

“…”

Sheng Wang was speechless.

“No need to look at it tonight,” Jiang Tian said decisively. “At least this monthly exam won’t cover it. Other classes are catching up, but not as deep as Class A and B.”

“At least? So it will be tested later?” Sheng Wang asked.

“If it’s appeared in the college entrance exam, the school dares to test anything,” Jiang Tian said, flipping through the answer explanations at the back of the workbook. “Too many parts are omitted. Why did you buy this one?”

“This one has better continuity from basics to key points, suitable for self-study,” Sheng Wang said, a bit annoyed. “Have some sympathy for those in a miserable world, will you? But the difficult problems are indeed few, just glossed over. Anyway, once I finish this, I’ll buy another to fill in the gaps.”

Jiang Tian thought for a moment, then put the book down and walked to the wardrobe.

Sheng Wang watched in confusion as Jiang Tian opened one of the wardrobe doors, rummaged through a storage box, and handed him a blue-covered workbook, saying, “This one goes deeper.”

Sheng Wang took the book, but his attention wasn’t on it; it was on the wardrobe.

Jiang Tian’s wardrobe was strange. The hanging rod was full of empty hangers, but there were no clothes. Below, one compartment held a transparent storage box, and the other held a suitcase.

The suitcase was open, with Jiang Tian’s frequently worn clothes neatly folded inside. So neatly that if he closed the suitcase, the owner could leave without a trace.

“You…” Sheng Wang was stunned for a while, then looked up at Jiang Tian, “Why are you packing?”

He suddenly remembered something he vaguely overheard—Sheng Mingyang mentioned that Jiang Tian wanted to live in the dormitory, but since the school hadn’t opened applications, he was temporarily staying with them.

Back then, he couldn’t wait for Jiang Tian to leave, but now he suddenly changed his mind.

He didn’t know when or why he changed his mind, only that seeing the suitcase gave him an indescribable feeling.

It was like when he was a child, playing happily in the suburban theme park, only to have various calls interrupt Sheng Mingyang’s phone, ending the fun abruptly, and he had to obediently follow the adults home.

Even though he knew he could come back soon, he still felt disappointed at that moment.

…That kind of disappointment that would be forgotten in laughter but suddenly resurface.

“Are you leaving?” Sheng Wang asked.

Jiang Tian glanced at the suitcase along with his gaze. For a few seconds, he didn’t speak, then after a moment, he said, “I didn’t just pack it, it’s always been like that.”

This sounded even more distant and cold. Jiang Tian paused and added, “It’s a personal habit.”

“Personal habit?” Sheng Wang snapped back to reality, “You don’t do this at home, do you?”

“Yeah.” Jiang Tian nodded slightly.

“Why? Is it OCD or something?”

“Convenience,” Jiang Tian said.

He didn’t want to discuss this topic, Sheng Wang could tell, so he didn’t ask further. He opened the workbook Jiang Tian gave him and found it surprisingly clean, with only some questions circled in red, no other marks.

“You haven’t done it?” Sheng Wang changed the subject.

“I didn’t write directly on it,” Jiang Tian said. “You can use it, just focus on the circled ones.”

Sheng Wang’s ability was undeniable, but with Jiang Tian’s simplification, his review was much more efficient, and he finished faster than ever.

Since transferring to the Affiliated High School, it was the first time he went to bed before 1 a.m.

He thought it was a good omen, indicating a smooth monthly exam, but who knew he’d capsize at the bridge.

The Affiliated High School’s monthly exams were more formal than weekly tests, spread over two days. The first day was Chinese and math, the second day was English and two electives. Sheng Wang capsized on the second morning.

The exam started at 8 a.m., and he was in the exam room by 7 a.m. as usual. Because he was well-prepared, he was quite relaxed, not noticing anything subtly wrong.

Around 7:20 a.m., a boy he didn’t recognize peeked in and asked, “Is Sheng Wang here?”

Sheng Wang looked up from his notebook.

The boy waved at him, saying, “The English teacher is looking for you.”

Sheng Wang tossed his notebook into the desk and walked to the door, asking, “Sister Jing is looking for me? What’s up?”

“No idea,” the boy said. “Something about the English competition or something? She wants you to get a new paper.”

“Now?” Sheng Wang asked.

“Yeah.”

He glanced at the clock on the back wall of the classroom. There was indeed time, so he didn’t suspect anything and prepared to go upstairs.

The boy said, “Not upstairs, it’s at the printing room over by Road No. 3.”

He pointed towards that direction, saying, “Just in front of Xiushen Garden.”

“Isn’t there a printing room upstairs?” Sheng Wang was puzzled. “Why go to the one on Road No. 3?”

He only found out later that the two small rooms next to the office on the top floor housed printers, exclusively for Class A teachers to print papers during competition season.

The boy shook his head, “I don’t know, maybe the printer broke. You better hurry, I’m heading to the exam room.”

He said that and went down the corridor.

Sheng Wang muttered a few words, didn’t delay further, and quickly went downstairs.

To save time, he took a shortcut through Xiushen Garden, but that shortcut led to trouble. He was stopped by two boys on the path, neither wearing school uniforms nor badges, exuding a delinquent vibe, clearly not from the Affiliated High School, more like some riffraff from a corner.

One of them, with a buzz cut, scratched his head and said, “Hey, you’re Sheng Wang, right? Do you know why I’m here today?”

He probably wanted to intimidate him first, expecting Sheng Wang to say “I don’t know,” then find trouble while telling him.

Unexpectedly, Sheng Wang didn’t follow the script, nodded calmly, and said, “I know.”

The buzz cut was taken aback, aggressively asking, “You know? Oh, then tell me, why am I here?”

Sheng Wang smiled, then dropped his face and kneed him, saying, “You’re here for a beating.”

The buzz cut yelped, clutching his crotch and collapsing to his knees. He was instantly incapacitated, curled up on the ground, twitching. The other guy cursed and swung a punch at Sheng Wang.

Sheng Wang thought his exam luck was truly cursed, every exam led to a fight, despite his claims of being weak.

Even though he took one down at the start, Sheng Wang couldn’t quickly escape.

He struggled with the remaining guy in Xiushen Garden for a long time before finally breaking free. The guy had bruises and a bloody nose. Sheng Wang’s uniform was covered in mud, and his face was scratched by branches.

He gave the guy a final kick, took off his uniform, and sprinted towards Mingli Building. Despite rushing, he was still 12 minutes late.

“Report.” When Sheng Wang entered the classroom, the proctor’s eyes widened, and he sternly asked, “Late for the monthly exam?! Where have you been?”

The English listening broadcast had already reached the last part. Sheng Wang wiped his face and said, “Went to see a doctor.”

The proctor was stunned, “Huh? What’s wrong with you?”

“Brain problem,” Sheng Wang replied, then asked, “Report, can I go to my seat now?”

The proctor, whether from shock or anger, opened his mouth but didn’t speak. Sheng Wang entered on his own.

The morning’s misfortune left him fuming, unable to pretend to be obedient.

He stuffed his uniform into the desk, grabbed a pen, and started on the paper.

The listening section had two parts, and he missed all of it. Three whole pages of listening questions grinned at him, blank.

20 questions worth 20 points, his last exam barely reached 60 points, and now he was diving a third.

This was so damn frustrating.

Cursing inwardly, Sheng Wang began his magical journey.

The first part had individual dialogues, one question per dialogue, which he couldn’t handle for now. So he flipped to the second page and started organizing his thoughts.

The second part had two or three questions per dialogue. He grabbed a pen and began underlining repeated words in the questions. With two or three questions, he could roughly outline the dialogue’s content. By focusing on frequently appearing words, he could identify the dialogue’s key points. Based on this, guessing the answers had a much higher accuracy.

He finished the last 15 questions this way, then flipped back to the first page, sighed, and started guessing.