Lu Yu clearly had not the slightest interest in such a childish game.
He stared at Ren Jie’s phone for a moment.
Then he pulled his arms in and slumped face-down onto the desk.
“You figure it out yourself. I’m sleepy. Gonna nap.”
“No way! You’re hitting the sack this early?”
Ren Jie shook his shoulder. “We’re going over last week’s monthly exam papers this morning. Graded tests are coming soon—the teacher won’t let you sleep.”
Truth was, Lu Yu wasn’t tired at all. He just wanted to dodge Ren Jie’s questions.
He buried his face in the desk, pretending not to hear—until footsteps approached.
A breeze brushed past. That faint, clean scent felt deeply familiar.
After all, it had lingered around him the entire day yesterday.
“Lu Yu.”
A light knock on his desk. A voice, measured and firm.
“Math homework.”
“Oh.”
Lu Yu lifted his head and met Lin Beixing’s eyes.
Under Ren Jie’s stunned gaze, he calmly pulled a complete set of math homework from his backpack.
“Whoa.”
Ren Jie’s jaw dropped at the densely scribbled solutions covering every inch of the pages.
“You actually did your homework?!” he blurted.
Lu Yu nodded and handed the papers to Lin Beixing without a word.
Lin Beixing gripped the homework, a bitter truth trapped in her throat.
She was the one who’d done it.
Two sets. Finished deep into the night.
And after switching back to her own body, she’d discovered Lu Yu hadn’t practiced piano at all—and had even faked a period to skip class.
Now she was stuck: anxious her lie might surface, and forced to cram double piano practice tonight.
Beixing’s heart ached, but she stayed silent.
She gave Lu Yu a long look, then placed a test paper on his desk.
“Here.”
While collecting homework, Lin Beixing was also handing out the graded monthly math exams.
Each bore a score neatly marked in the top right corner.
Her face looked pale. Slight dark circles shadowed her clear eyes—proof of a sleepless night.
She stood before Lu Yu, hesitating.
After a pause, she asked softly,
“Lu Yu… are you… actually good at studying?”
“…Huh?”
Lu Yu had just opened his own paper.
Blatantly stamped in the corner: *5 points!*
Five points. He’d only guessed two multiple-choice and one fill-in correctly.
Lu Yu held the paper up. Their eyes met.
The stark red "5" answered her question without a sound.
“What’s happening?! What’s wrong?!”
Ren Jie, watching like a spectator, nearly pressed his nose to the paper.
After flipping it twice, he confirmed it: this 5-point disaster was Brother Lu’s.
“What’s up? Sis—uh, Class Rep Lin! What’d Brother Lu do today?”
“Nothing…” Lin Beixing shook her head, lips tight.
“And your homework, Ren Jie?”
Her gaze shifted from Lu Yu’s calm face to his deskmate.
“Hehe…” Ren Jie scratched his head sheepishly.
“Uh… not finished… I’ll hand in what I have. If the teacher checks, I’ll apologize properly later? Okay, Class Rep?”
Lin Beixing, half-listening, faintly nodded at the “okay.”
“Fine.”
“Yes! Thanks, Class Rep!”
Ren Jie exhaled in relief.
“Your exam paper. Keep it.”
Lin Beixing set it down carelessly, glanced once more at Lu Yu, then walked off with the collected homework.
Ren Jie checked his own score—identical. He yelped, then nudged Lu Yu’s arm.
“Bro! Same score as you!”
Lu Yu didn’t lift his head. Just a quiet, “Oh.”
Beneath the desk, his dark eyes fixed on the glaring red "5," lost in thought.
“Five points, bro! I dropped from thirty! Blame the lack of MCQs… Teacher Zhang’s getting stingy. Swapped them out himself to stop us guessing…”
Ren Jie’s voice trailed into helpless muttering. Lu Yu stayed silent.
“…You really asleep?”
Ren Jie shook his head. He knew the drill: when Lu Yu slept, he’d quietly watch for the homeroom teacher or dean—and wake him at the first sign of trouble.
But it was senior year now. Teachers no longer pushed students who’d given up. No one pulled them back from the mud.
A hot morning breeze drifted in. Someone had turned off the ceiling fan. Restless, Lu Yu shoved the paper into his desk compartment.
On the podium, the math teacher energetically reviewed the exams.
Lu Yu stacked a few books under his forehead, pulled out his phone, and played a quick match.
Even a solo chicken dinner or a godlike pentakill brought no joy.
He powered off the screen and sank into his arms, bored.
Footsteps approached. Then intermittent taps on his desk.
Annoyed, he lifted his head.
Not the sweet-scented girl this time—but an older woman in glasses.
“Lu Yu. If you’re sleepy, stand at the back. Standing keeps you awake.”
Teacher Zhang’s tone was neutral, neither gentle nor harsh—but utterly firm.
Lu Yu, though ranked at the very bottom of the class, wasn’t a troublemaker. He simply sat quietly. When punished, he obeyed without protest.
“Oh.”
He pushed himself up lazily.
Two steps away, the teacher called again.
“Take your test paper.”
He turned back, retrieved the 5-point sheet, and walked to the rear.
The classroom fell silent, watching.
Only Lin Beixing kept her head down, staring at her own high score, fingers gently curled into fists.
