Weekends always flew by in the blink of an eye, Monday arriving before anyone knew it.

For students, Monday was probably the most draining day of the week. Just thinking about four more days of classes before the next break could kill all motivation.

Yue Feather and Silver Bell’s relationship had grown increasingly like that of little brother and big sister. Though this closeness was comforting, Yue Feather felt a slight regret. If he could choose, he’d prefer something more… romantic. But that was impossible. After a week together, he wasn’t even sure if he truly loved her, or if he was just drawn to her kindness and pretty face.

Weekend homework piled higher than usual, so more students arrived early—mostly to copy assignments last-minute. Even top students did it. Don’t assume good grades meant no cheating; nobody excelled in every subject, and even honor students needed weekend downtime or cram sessions for weak subjects.

Yue Feather, though, had finished his homework Sunday. He’d planned to copy at school, but after his disastrous mock exam—and Silver Bell’s subtle hint that *"doing homework yourself reinforces learning"*—he’d changed his mind. Honestly, finishing it himself felt surprisingly satisfying. With finals approaching, he vowed to complete every assignment properly. He refused to face another humiliating score and classmates’ laughter.

“Yue Feather.” A thin, high-pitched voice cut through his thoughts. He looked up to see the slight figure of Tong Junxiao standing beside him.

“Huh? What’s up?” Yue Feather asked. They weren’t close friends, but Tong was one of the few he got along with in class.

“Uh… your hand? Is it better?”

“This? Much better.” Yue Feather grinned, waving his left arm. “See? Less bandaging. No worries.”

“Oh… hey, did you finish the science homework?”

“Science? All three subjects?”

“Yeah.”

“Done.”

“Ahem… can I copy yours?” Tong’s voice dropped to a whisper, his neck shrinking into his shoulders, making him look even frailer. This was the first time Tong had ever asked to copy homework—or at least, the first time Yue Feather had seen him do it.

“Huh? Mine? You sure…?” Yue Feather frowned. After his mock exam flop, he was hardly a reliable source.

“It’s fine… just let me copy?”

“Don’t blame me if it’s wrong.”

“I won’t…” Tong mumbled, twisting his hands awkwardly.

“Alright, take it.” Yue Feather handed over the science notebooks, watching Tong scurry back to his seat with tiny steps. *He really acts like a girl sometimes*, Yue Feather muttered under his breath.

“More like just effeminate,” Wei Xiaoxin cut in abruptly. He’d been counting coins since arriving at school.

“Saying that behind his back isn’t cool.”

“It’s true. No offense meant.”

“Speaking of which—what happened with Tong and the class rep?”

“No clue. No gossip lately. They still barely talk.”

“Did Tong reject her?”

“Probably.”

“Huh… why though?” Yue Feather pictured himself in Tong’s shoes. If a decent-looking girl confessed to him, he’d struggle to say no. Though, honestly, he had zero experience—no girl had ever confessed to him.

“Whatever. The class rep isn’t exactly pretty anyway,” Wei Xiaoxin drawled, eyelids drooping as he swept coins into his desk and pulled out a game token to fiddle with. *Even his idle habits revolve around money*, Yue Feather thought.

“I think she’s fine…” Yue Feather rested his chin on his palm, studying the class rep’s back. “Just a bit dark-skinned, and her face is long. Otherwise? Above average.”

“Wow. Heavy tastes. You think *dark* is pretty?”

“Hey, you’re not exactly porcelain yourself.”

“Can’t I critique a movie just because I can’t make one?” Wei Xiaoxin shot back.

Yue Feather rolled his eyes and turned away. Despite being disliked by nearly every girl, Wei Xiaoxin had unshakable confidence—and a razor-sharp tongue. Still, he had a good heart. He’d called Tong “effeminate,” yet he’d taken several punches for him during that fight with the thugs.

*THUD!*

A heavy crash at the classroom door snapped everyone’s attention. Zhan Qi lay sprawled on the floor, her books scattered. Loud laughter erupted from some boys; girls covered their mouths, giggling or whispering snide remarks. Yue Feather never understood it. Zhan Qi was thoughtful and kind—why did so many girls exclude her?

Almost simultaneously, Yue Feather and the class rep stood up. The rep glanced back at the commotion, then sat down again. Yue Feather sighed and walked to the door to help Zhan Qi up. He liked her—just as a classmate, nothing more.

“You okay?” he asked. A bruise bloomed on her forehead where a popped pimple oozed pus-blood. It looked nasty. Even Yue Feather had to force down his disgust as he pulled out a tissue packet. “You’re bleeding. Wipe it.”

“Th-thanks…” Zhan Qi whispered weakly.

Plain-faced girls had their perks. Being around her felt pressure-free—even for someone like Yue Feather, who usually fumbled around girls.

Seeing she was steady, he let go. Walking her to her seat would invite rumors.

“Rough night?” He stopped her as she tried to sit on her still-folded chair. With a sigh, he unfolded it for her. “Trying to sit before unfolding the chair?”

“S-sorry…”

“No need to apologize…”

“Thank you…”

“No problem.” He waved it off, turning to leave—only for Zhan Qi to call him back.

“Y-Yue Feather… w-wait…” Her cheeks flushed pink. “My homework… I didn’t finish… Could you… copy it for me? Just Chinese… I-I’ll pay you…”

“Huh? What’s with today? Even good students forget homework?” Yue Feather muttered without thinking. Zhan Qi shrank further.

“I…”

“Keep your money. I’ve got time. I’ll copy it.” He held out his hand casually. “Pass the notebook?”

“Thank you…”

“Don’t mention it.” Back at his desk, Yue Feather flipped open the Chinese textbook and began copying the lengthy modern essay.

“Since when are you this nice?” Wei Xiaoxin sneered beside him—a weird way of showing concern.

“Got nothing better to do. And my Chinese sucks. Extra practice might help my grades.”

“Oh? Going model student on us?”

“Shut up and let me work.” Yue Feather wrote carefully in Zhan Qi’s notebook. No sloppy handwriting—she’d have to rewrite it otherwise, wasting his effort. *Might as well practice penmanship*, he told himself.

“Ugh… why are Lu Xun’s texts so long…” he grumbled, rubbing his temples.

Wei Xiaoxin snickered. “Heh. Now you see how long it is?”

“Shut it.”

“Don’t you find Chinese boring? Copying texts all day. Zero fun.”

“Name one subject *you* enjoy.”

“Art. I love art class.”

Yue Feather remembered Wei Xiaoxin’s last “abstract” drawing and grimaced. Copying texts was mind-numbing. His focus slipped repeatedly, nearly skipping paragraphs. He couldn’t slack off—this wasn’t his own homework.

“Done…” Just before morning reading, he finished. His handwriting grew messy toward the end, but it was still legible.

"Th-thanks... um... this is for you..." Zhan Qi timidly pulled out a five-yuan note and offered it to Yue Feather, making him slightly displeased.

"Ah, didn’t I say it’s free?" Yue Feather waved his hand, refusing to take it, and walked back to his seat alone.

But Zhan Qi’s words sparked a brilliant money-making idea in his mind.

Earn cash by copying homework for others—study and earn at the same time. What a perfect plan!

Yue Feather decided to ask Wei Xiaoxin about it; he must be better at making money.