"My friend, what about language? What did you score?"
The guy with the best grades in the classroom scratched his head and said with embarrassment, "About 80..."
Everyone in the slackers' division seemed to have found their saving grace and rushed up to him in a horde. Someone even shoved a cigarette into his breast pocket: "Big bro, a little token of my regard. Please accept it and don't stand on ceremony."
"80 points for language! I've only seen it in my dreams. How does someone with grades that good end up placed in this exam venue? You're really a buried talent. An ace among wastrels."
"You're really impressive. When I make eye contact later, throw me the answer."
"Relax. I've walked the streets for a long time. Zero risk. I'll swallow the paper before I let it fall into the clutches of an invigilator."
"......"
The boy, surrounded on all sides, was on cloud nine. He thought to himself that he must get placed into this exam division again next time... the feeling of being a big bro was very nice.
He felt his whole body charge with energy!
No one had praised his failing grades like this before!
Xie Yu sat in his seat, twirling a pen, and waited for the invigilator to enter the classroom.
Three of his fingers were pressed around a black ink pen, twirling it negligently. Round and round. His eyes slipped slightly closed; he was getting tired of waiting.
He Zhao tapped Xie Yu's right shoulder with a pen. "Little friend, want the answers?"
The pen in Xie Yu's hand fell to the table with a clatter. His hand, with its long and narrow fingers and prominent joints, maintained its position without moving.
"You?" Xie Yu put one hand to his head and twisted his body to look back at He Zhao. "Forget it."
He Zhao knew that Xie Yu had misunderstood. He leaned back in his chair and held out one hand with a smile, his index finger crooked. He lightly tapped Xie Yu's forehead. "What are you thinking? Not mine, of course. It's that guy's, the one who scored 60 in math and 80 in language..."
It really was a light tap, barely touching Xie Yu's forehead as it swiped across.
Xie Yu was viscerally repulsed by this contact.... Instead of 'repulsed,' perhaps 'unused to' might be a more suitable descriptor. He braced one hand against the desk and stood up, body leaning forward, wanting very much to split He Zhao's damn head open. "I told you before. Don't touch me."
He Zhao sat in the very last row, but his seat was still some distance from the wall. He moved back several paces, chair and all.
"Your temper's pretty hot," He Zhao said. "...All right, all right. I won't fuss any more. Calm down."
Their quarrel had caused a stir, and others were glancing towards their corner, not sure what they were doing. It didn't quite look like they were fighting.
"What are those two doing?"
"I heard someone from Class 3 say that Xie Yu and Zhao-ge... the two of them are a little bent."
"Ah?"
"I didn't really believe it at the time either..."
"Which person from Class 3, Know-It-All? What he says is maybe half true at best. Just take it with a grain of salt."
The bell rang again.
Dean Jiang's voice came from the intercom: "Students, the exam starts in five minutes. Please return to your designated exam room. The first exam will be language."
