Momo's Gradual Change

C7. Familiar Faces.

Chapter 7: Familiar Faces

Having experienced three years of high school hell, Song Yimo was well aware of how difficult these three years would be, but Miao Zhiruo seemed oblivious. Full of energy and excitement early in the morning, she was talking non-stop about classmates and teachers, her demeanor more like a primary school student than a high school freshman.

"Oh, my mom said she's going to buy me a bicycle today, the kind that can carry two people. Mo Mo, I'll take you to school from now on."

Walking to school would only take half an hour, not too far, but with a bicycle it should only take ten minutes, allowing for an extra twenty minutes to review some political questions. Song Yimo thought it was a good idea and nodded, "Eat more in the mornings, don't run out of energy halfway and make me carry you. You're too heavy, I can't handle it."

"Hmph, underestimate me, wait and see who ends up carrying who."

When they arrived at the classroom, most of the classmates had already gathered. Friends were chatting together, stealing glances at each other, exchanging smiles when their eyes met. Young hearts were tentatively reaching out, hiding excitement and anticipation.

Song Yimo noticed a few of these glances and smiled lightly in return. To her, these people were already familiar, having had their own thoughts and even conflicts over grades in the past. They had all extended a helping hand to her when she needed it.

Whether out of sympathy or pity, she had truly benefited from them. Over the three years, she would do her best to get along well with everyone and make concessions when necessary.

"Cough..." A middle-aged woman with glasses walked in, looking serious. Song Yimo knew that despite her appearance, Teacher Chen Bilin's heart was soft. Unfortunately, good people were always taken advantage of – betrayed by others and even by fate. Her husband had left her for another woman and had passed away from lung cancer during her senior year.

"Hello, everyone. I am the homeroom teacher for Class 2 of Grade 1, Chen Bilin. Barring any accidents, you will all be under my care for the next three years."

She wrote her name on the blackboard and continued, "I hope that all of you will do your best in these three years to get into a good university. Of course, I understand that not everyone is focused on studying. I won't force you to do so. Whether you sleep or read, do it discreetly. You must not disturb others or openly challenge your teachers. If you can't do that, I will have to involve your parents. Do you all understand?"

"We understand."

The responses were not very organized, making Teacher Chen Bilin frown. "Speak up, have you not eaten?"

"We understand."

Satisfied, Teacher Chen Bilin moved on to other matters. Song Yimo listened attentively, her gaze following Teacher Chen Bilin.

"Class monitor will be based on performance, to be re-elected after the mid-term exams. Class President Chen Zhen, Vice President Liu Dinghong, Study Committee Member Song Yimo…"

"Math Class Representative Zhang Sheng, Chinese Class Representative Song Yimo…"

Miao Zhiruo gave a thumbs up under the table, and Song Yimo just smiled. It was all expected. She knew there would be a re-election after the mid-term exams, and she would still be the Study Committee Member, while Zhiruo would be the only female Sports Committee Member in the entire high school.

Next was the seating arrangement. To prevent students from dating, boys and girls were no longer allowed to sit together. Miao Zhiruo was half a head taller than Song Yimo, so they couldn't sit together, with a significant distance between their desks.

Overall, the first day of classes was chaotic yet organized.

From the first day of school, Grandma Song would give Song Yimo two yuan every day, just enough for her to buy a bread roll and a pack of milk to fill her stomach after the morning classes. She saved three days' worth of money to make a call using that phone number.

The phone only rang once before someone picked up. Without waiting for her to speak, the voice on the other end said, "Miss Song? Please hold on, Mr. Zhai will be right here."

Not knowing how long she would have to wait, Song Yimo was concerned that three yuan wouldn't be enough for the call. Luckily, she wasn't kept waiting long, and a familiar voice spoke, "I am Zhai Muyang, I didn't expect to receive your call today."

Previously worried about not getting her money back, Song Yimo felt somewhat embarrassed as she twisted the phone cord. But she was always honest, and she didn't hide her difficulties, "I've given you all the money I have, it took me until today to save up three yuan to make this call. Oh, do you have paper and pen with you?"

There was a noticeable pause on the other end, but soon there came a response, "Go ahead, I'll write it down."

"Industrial and Commercial Bank, account number is xxxxxxxx, did you get that? Should I repeat it?"

"I've got it, xxxxxxxx, right?"

"Yes. When will you send the money over?"

Out of sight, Zhai Muyang lay on the sofa leaning back, buttons unbuttoned, revealing white bandages underneath. Hearing her speak like this, he felt as if he could see the earnest expression of the girl who had said, "My family is very poor" that day through the phone line. Surely, she must be speaking to him with that same earnest expression now.