Just as I buried myself in exercise books amid the rhythmic hum of morning reading, a note slid back from the student in front of me. I froze for a second, then snapped out of it, took the note, and unfolded it.

Hmm. Same familiar, messy handwriting.

“Hey, even though you jumped the gun, I’ll forgive you—we’re bros, after all. Seriously though, never took you for the sneaky type…”

I almost crumpled it right then. Ah well, let’s see the rest. The sticky note was packed with tiny, cramped script—must’ve taken effort.

“Huaixian, you’re rushing to sell your doujin ’cause you’re scared a girl might spot it at your place and ruin her image of you, huh? Total hypocrite!”

My mood at that exact moment? “See this doujin? *Zzzt!* Gone.”

Still, I kept reading.

“And it’s not just that! Once you’ve got a girlfriend, you won’t need this stuff anyway. Sell it, fund dates—food, drinks, fun… Man, triple win! I tip my hat to you!”

No—*I* tip my hat to *you*! Your imagination’s wasted if you don’t write novels!

Finally, the last line:

“Honestly, I’m probably the only sucker in the world willing to do this for you. Feel moved yet? Oh yeah… I haven’t finished my math homework… Um…”

“Which part?” I muttered. “Thanks *so* much, Mr. Sucker.”

Just say you need to copy homework. No need to beat around the bush.

I crumpled the note, tossed it into my desk, pulled a thin exercise book from my folder, and passed it to Wang Jingzhe—the guy in front. He’d usually copy it first, then pass it forward to Fang Liancheng.

But this time, Wang Jingzhe’s face twisted in conflict. *To copy or not to copy?* This homework came from a traitor to the cause! As a loyal, true-blue FFF Brigade member, how could he accept the enemy’s charity?

Yes! How could he?!

No copying!

Wang Jingzhe, iron-willed hero—until one exercise book made him betray the Brigade.

Wait—“How could he not copy!” That’s what he meant.

“I haven’t done my English either…” Wang Jingzhe muttered, stiff-necked, after passing the math book back.

“Get it yourself.”

I didn’t look up, grinding through the liberal arts exam paper.

He mumbled while pulling my English homework: “Copying… copying problems doesn’t count as betraying the Brigade.”

Morning reading wrapped up smoothly after I finished most of the liberal arts paper. My answers had already passed through countless hands—but they weren’t dumb. Never copied everything. Or I’d be doomed.

Lanling High School had its innovations, but daily academics mirrored other high schools: liberal arts vs. science tracks. Rumor said the education reform would scrap the split soon.

For now? Just grind liberal arts.

I’d already chosen the humanities path. Blessed with a sharp memory, I had a natural edge in history and literature—which is why I could tackle comprehensive liberal arts exams even as a freshman.

I never worried about my homework. Sure, the guys acted like they held endless grudges against me—but when submission time came, they’d rather leave their own incomplete than skip turning mine in first.

In short: weirdly reliable.

Even Fang Liancheng wanted to buy my doujin to fund my “girl-chasing fund.”

Pfft! I don’t *have* a girlfriend!

…But I do have a daughter. That’s all.