"Yaoyao, still staring at that test paper?" A girl gently pounced on Zhou Wenyao from behind, her hands mischievously circling the latter’s waist.

"Qingqing, cut it out," Zhou Wenyao murmured, eyes fixed on the photocopy pinned in the class assignment corner. She’d scored highest in math this time—but though only two points separated her from this paper’s owner, she’d left the final sub-question blank. Meanwhile, this one had clearly been deliberately marked down.

Still, the paper held lessons worth noting. Key formulas and explanatory notes were spaced with half a line above and below, guiding the teacher straight to scoring points. Even with a wrong final answer, clear reasoning could still secure full process marks.

"Sigh," Qingqing whispered mysteriously, noticing Zhou Wenyao’s expression. "I secretly scouted the competition… I—I’ve defected!"

"What?" Zhou Wenyao swatted her friend’s arm lightly, used to her antics.

"A guy. A total heartthrob," Qingqing gushed, starry-eyed. "Ugh, if only I’d held back my score… maybe I’d be in his class now."

"Didn’t you swear you only like girls?" Zhou Wenyao rolled her eyes. She’d long given up on her yuri-and-BL-obsessed bestie. "Fine. Once you’ve found your person, you’ll stop bothering me."

"I *do* like girls—but he’s the exception!" Qingqing’s cheeks flushed. "Anyway, Yaoyao’s still the GOAT!"

"Heh." Zhou Wenyao stayed neutral. Right now, she cared more about meeting the paper’s owner.

…

"Haozi, legendary!" Liu Shun slapped Li Hao’s math test into his hands. "One twenty-seven? Damn, spare me a few points!"

"Eh, okay," Li Hao said, fighting a grin as he scanned the paper. "Still messed up the last big question… sigh."

"Please. I’m stuck in the 90s and not complaining. Ball later?" Liu Shun left.

Li Hao lingered over his paper, basking in the sea of red checkmarks. *From barely scraping 100 to this… hard work pays off.*

He glanced sideways. Feng Yijiu sat absorbed in a novel—ahem, *Chinese literature*. Her desk held no math paper.

*Hid it after bombing?* A faint smirk tugged his lips. *If not for victor’s humility, I’d already "guide" this ornamental deskmate.*

But math class was next. No hiding then.

Li Hao checked the clock—eager for the bell like never before.

"Class begins!" Teacher Jiang entered, textbook in hand, an uncharacteristic smile softening his stern features. Somehow, it made him oddly approachable.

"Everyone got papers? Haha, great results this time—five students scored above 125…"

Li Hao straightened, placing his 127-point paper neatly on the desk. A quiet, confident smile—the reserved pride uniquely Chinese—graced his face.

He turned. Feng Yijiu still had her nose in that book.

*Too ashamed to show her score? Denial won’t fix it.*

Feng Yijiu closed her novel, glancing at her deskmate—this reincarnated Laughing Buddha—and blinked in confusion.

"Feng Yijiu!" Teacher Jiang called from the podium.

She raised a puzzled hand.

"Come up. I’ll rest this period." He handed her a red pen, gesturing toward the projector.

*Ha. Showing off backfired. Crash and burn.* Li Hao smirked inwardly.

Classmates exchanged uneasy glances.

"Feng Yijiu’s reasoning is exceptionally clear," Teacher Jiang said, his expression mirroring Li Hao’s earlier smugness. "Xiao Feng, just walk us through your approach." He passed her the paper—*her own*.

"Next time you overcomplicate things," he added, rolling the paper to tap her arm lightly, "I’ll deduct every point."

Li Hao’s smile froze. His eyes locked on the projected score: **150 – 5 = 145** beside Feng Yijiu’s name. Then his own 127. The smirk stiffened… then vanished.

*Damn it. I worked so hard.*

*Others read novels—I studied. Others played phones—I studied. Others went home empty-handed—I kept grinding…*

Two months of effort ≠ one night of cramming.

*What’s this score even worth?!*

"This problem’s simplest method," Feng Yijiu began, voice deliberately low and measured, "is drawing an auxiliary line between points A and B. Then, using congruent triangles for a basic iteration… three congruencies solve it."

Li Hao listened woodenly. Every word echoing in his skull twisted into one phrase:

*"Hey, cross-dresser!"*

Like an "Echo Staff" had activated in his head—reverb included.

*No. Five subjects left. Don’t quit.* He rallied fast. *Maybe she’s just math-strong. Or crammed last night. Less than twenty points ahead—I can close the gap!*

Clenching his fist, he took a deep breath and focused. *Next time. I won’t lose again.*

"Brilliant explanation—even I learned something," Teacher Jiang said after she returned. "Wait… no math rep chosen yet? Perfect. Xiao Feng, you’re it."

"Oh, and we need someone strong to carry materials. Xiao Feng’s deskmate—young man, I can tell you’ve got the strength. Deskmates working together? Convenient." After a mostly idle period, Teacher Jiang finally made a decision.

Li Hao stared blankly at his paper. *So that’s my role.*

He turned. Feng Yijiu was already back in her novel. He exhaled sharply and buried his head on the desk.

Feng Yijiu glanced at him—unusually not studying during break—and shook her head. *Honestly… a bit dense, but not a bad person.*