Chapter 148: Chapter 147. Extra 5.

Chapter 147: Extra 5. Modern Campus – The Scholar and the School Bully

Yanguo High’s semester ended three days later than No. 5 High, and tutoring was scheduled for the third day after Yanguo High's break began.

The day before the tutoring session, Xue Shu dove into an intense cleaning frenzy. He scrubbed every inch of his tiny rented apartment until it sparkled, and then turned his attention to his bedroom. As he stuffed freshly changed bedsheets into the washing machine, his mother, Mrs. Xue, couldn’t hold back her curiosity any longer.

“You just changed those three days ago,” she remarked, her tone edged with suspicion. “What’s with this sudden urge to deep-clean?”

Still focused on slipping a crisp new cover over his duvet, Xue Shu replied nonchalantly, “A friend’s coming over to tutor me.”

Mrs. Xue’s brows shot up. “A friend?”

Her suspicions deepened. She knew her son well—studying had never been his thing. This abrupt academic turn-around smelled fishy, and she narrowed her eyes. “Is it a girl?”

Xue Shu glanced at her, bewildered. “It’s a guy.”

The clarification eased her tension, though she still couldn’t help but be suspicious. Watching her son bustle around the room, unusually cheerful, she chose not to press further.

Xue Shu wasn’t done, though. He swapped out the bedding, straightened his desk, and stepped back, surveying the space with a critical eye. It still didn’t feel right. The apartment was cramped—just a bed, a wardrobe, and a desk squeezed into the room. Being on a lower floor with poor lighting made it feel dim and damp. Even after turning on the lights, the place didn’t feel as welcoming as he wanted.

The faint, musty smell of mildew lingered in the air, nagging at him. Digging through the clutter in the living room, he found an old can of air freshener. But after a test spritz, the overpowering lemon scent assaulted his nose. Frustrated, he abandoned it and instead unearthed a bottle of floral-scented cologne. A few generous sprays later, he finally felt satisfied.

Mrs. Xue, standing quietly in the background, watched with a growing sense of unease. But her trust in her son kept her from prying further.

The next afternoon, Yin Chengyu arrived punctually at Xue Shu’s door.

By then, Mrs. Xue had already left for work, leaving the two boys alone. Xue Shu greeted his guest at the door, excitement bubbling under his skin, though a subtle nervousness clung to him.

As a teenager, Xue Shu hadn’t fully grasped the chasm between his modest background and Yin Chengyu’s wealth. He had always known Yin Chengyu came from money, but it wasn’t until he stood there in front of his luxurious-looking guest—someone so glaringly out of place in his dingy little apartment—that he felt a twinge of embarrassment.

Yin Chengyu noticed his host’s unease and, after a brief glance around the living room, asked casually, “Which room is yours?”

Xue Shu snapped out of his thoughts and led him to the bedroom.

Though small, the room was immaculately tidy. Yin Chengyu’s eyes swept over the neatly folded blanket on the bed, so precise it looked like a soldier’s handiwork. Stacks of textbooks were arranged meticulously on the desk beside it. A few posters of basketball stars adorned the walls, injecting some personality into the otherwise spartan space.

A faint, fresh scent lingered in the air. Yin Chengyu tilted his head slightly, sniffing. Not perfume—no, it was unmistakably the smell of floral-scented cologne.

A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips, though he kept his thoughts to himself.

The corners of his lips curved into a subtle, knowing smirk. Yin Chengyu cast a sidelong glance at him, sharp and teasing, before settling into the chair by the desk with an air of casual authority. With a flick of his wrist, he slid a neatly stacked test paper set across the desk toward him. “Sit. Let’s gauge where you stand today, and then I’ll design your study plan.”

Xue Shu hesitated only briefly before sitting beside him, reaching into the penholder with a practiced ease. He pulled out a pen, jotted down his name at the top of the test, and then—almost involuntarily—his eyes began drifting sideways, catching glimpses of the figure next to him.

The desk was modest, barely a meter wide, and the space between their chairs was almost nonexistent. Two boys, both towering well over six feet, squeezed in side by side, shoulders brushing, thighs nearly glued together. Despite the air conditioner humming in the summer heat, the warmth radiating from where their legs touched seemed to burn through the thin fabric of their clothes.

Xue Shu subtly shifted back, Adam’s apple bobbing as an inexplicable restlessness clawed its way through him. His fingers tightened around the pen, knuckles whitening as tension coiled in his grip.

Meanwhile, Yin Chengyu was already flipping through the prepared materials—test papers meticulously stapled in chronological order, interspersed with untouched, pristine textbooks.

The man worked with quiet precision, one hand anchoring the papers while the other skimmed through them, his movements deft and efficient. He leaned slightly forward, his sharp profile lit by the soft glow of the desk lamp.

From where Xue Shu sat, the pale curve of his neck and the inky shadows of his lashes became an unrelenting distraction, each flutter of those lashes brushing against his nerves like a feather.

Caught in the web of his thoughts, Xue Shu’s pen remained suspended, untouched on the test paper. His gaze lingered far too long, trailing across the clean lines of Yin Chengyu’s skin, until—

The sharp crack of a pen striking his hand startled him back to reality.

Startled, Xue Shu looked up to meet Yin Chengyu’s half-lidded gaze, his smirk laced with faint amusement. “Do you stare at your teachers like this during exams? What, do you think I’ve got the answers written on my face?”

The playful rebuke, paired with the lingering sting on his knuckles, sent Xue Shu’s gaze skittering away.

And so, the hours slipped by, quiet but charged.

It was the first day of tutoring, and Yin Chengyu had carved out a generous three-hour window to assess Xue Shu’s abilities. The diagnostic test had been tailored for him, filled with foundational problems meant to measure his knowledge gaps and strengths.

“Answer what you can. Leave the rest blank,” Yin Chengyu had instructed.

For Xue Shu, who hadn’t taken studying seriously in ages, focusing so intensely on solving problems felt foreign, almost grating. But as he watched Yin Chengyu wield a red pen with methodical precision, scoring and annotating his paper, a strange tension simmered beneath the surface—a mixture of nerves and something else he couldn’t quite name.

“Your basics are terrible,” Yin Chengyu declared bluntly after barely ten minutes of grading, his voice smooth but cutting. He tapped the page littered with red marks, his brows furrowed just enough to betray mild irritation. “But there’s potential. If, and only if, you’re willing to listen to me.”

Xue Shu’s attention, however, wasn’t on the critique. His eyes had wandered, drawn to the graceful yet commanding way Yin Chengyu’s fingers handled the pen. Almost without realizing it, he nodded. “I’ll listen. Whatever you say.”

Satisfied with the response, Yin Chengyu’s lips curled into a faint smirk. “Good. From now on, it’s one and a half hours of tutoring daily, plus additional homework assignments. Tasks will be reviewed weekly. If you complete them, there will be rewards. If you fail…” His gaze swept over Xue Shu, lingering in a way that made the air between them feel heavier. “…you’ll face consequences. No excuses. No skipping.”

“Rewards and punishments, huh?” Xue Shu’s voice was quieter now, his gaze still fixated on Yin Chengyu’s hand. “What kind of rewards?”

“You get to choose—anything within reason. I’ll make it happen.” Yin Chengyu’s tone remained casual, but his smirk turned sharper. “As for punishments…” His eyes glinted, the curve of his smile slow and deliberate, like a predator toying with prey. “Let’s just say I’m not above a little physical discipline.”

The words hung in the air, bold and unflinching, leaving Xue Shu’s heart pounding in his chest.

*

To avoid the harsh discipline of Teacher Yin, Xue Shu stuck to the meticulously crafted study plan with unwavering dedication, grinding through every task on his schedule each day.

Except for brief windows carved out for sleep and his part-time job, he squeezed every last drop of his time into studying, leaving no room for distraction or indulgence. Exhaustion seeped into his bones, but the relentless routine filled him with a gratifying sense of purpose—and a tantalizing undercurrent of anticipation.

By the end of the first week of tutoring, Xue Shu had not only met but exceeded every goal Yin Chengyu had set for him. That evening, as the session wrapped up, he didn’t wait for Yin Chengyu to acknowledge his progress. Cutting him off with the eagerness of a loyal dog begging for a treat, he blurted, “I finished everything.”

The sight was almost too much for Yin Chengyu. The urge to reach out and ruffle his hair surged within him, but he reined it in, curving his lips into a sly smile instead. “What kind of reward are you hoping for?” he teased, his voice a deliberate drawl.

Xue Shu’s gaze lingered—first on those curved lips, then drifting down to the hand resting casually on the textbook. A flood of desires swirled in his mind, unspoken but impossible to ignore. He wanted so many things. Too many things. Yet, when it came to voicing even one of them, his tongue refused to cooperate.

After a long, awkward pause, he finally ventured, “I can’t think of anything right now. Can I… write an IOU?”

Yin Chengyu didn’t deny him. Instead, with an amused glint in his eyes, he tore a sticky note from his pad, scrawled out a neatly formatted “wish IOU,” and slid it toward him. “Whenever you’ve made up your mind, bring this to cash it in.”

Xue Shu carefully tucked the note away, treating it like a treasure far more valuable than its flimsy paper form suggested.

*

During a summer break consumed by grueling part-time jobs and intense tutoring sessions, Xue Shu made a decisive choice as the new semester began. After careful deliberation, he quit his bartending gig—a job that had tethered him to late nights and fleeting distractions.

University had never been part of Xue Shu's dreams. For the past two years of high school, he had drifted through classes, surviving on apathy and minimal effort. If not for his mother’s unyielding insistence, he might have already dropped out and sought a dead-end job. But now, things had shifted. There was someone—a presence in his life—pulling him forward. And Xue Shu wanted to be closer.

Much closer.

Senior year was less about learning new material and more about reinforcing old foundations. Teachers stopped introducing fresh content, instead weaving together two years’ worth of knowledge into comprehensive systems, pushing students to fortify their basics while reaching for greater heights.

After two months of relentless tutoring, Xue Shu began to find his rhythm. He sat through every class with unwavering focus, his once-aimless attention now razor-sharp.

The grind didn’t end in the classroom. His after-school hours were no longer squandered. Every evening, Yin Chengyu—his unexpected ally and tutor—walked him home and spent an additional ninety minutes drilling concepts and polishing his weak points.

This unrelenting effort bore fruit. Over the course of six months, Xue Shu clawed his way up from the bottom of the academic barrel to the upper echelons of his grade. Test after test, his scores surged, shattering expectations with every step. His teachers, initially stunned by the transformation, began to champion his story.

Xue Shu—the once-infamous troublemaker of Fifth High—became the poster child for grit and perseverance in the final sprint toward the gaokao.

His progress was so meteoric that he even earned a spot on the school’s midterm recognition board for outstanding improvement.

The "Little Tyrant of Fifth High" was now the school’s rising star.

When word of his achievements reached the ears of his old gang—those aimless companions from his wilder days—they couldn’t believe it. They showed up, jeering and skeptical, to confirm the rumors. But Xue Shu, ever the sharp-tongued firebrand, shoved a stack of mock exam papers into their hands. One by one, they scattered, tails between their legs, leaving him in peace. The boy who once laughed at ambition now lived it with unrelenting ferocity.

*

By the time the twenty-third wish note had been written, the first semester of senior year was about to wrap up. On Christmas Eve, the city of Yanhai saw its first snowfall. It wasn’t heavy, just a light flurry that melted almost immediately upon touching the ground, but it added a touch of romance to an otherwise ordinary Friday.

Boys and girls, carrying hearts full of either burning passion or secret desire, handed out exquisitely wrapped apples to the ones they fancied. Xue Shu, known for his fierce reputation at the Fifth High, was a tall, handsome guy who was never short of admirers. Every year, on holidays like Christmas Eve and Valentine’s Day, his desk would be crammed with love letters and gifts.

He hadn’t cared about them before—love letters ended up in the trash, and gifts disappeared into the hands of his rowdy friends.

But this year… things were different.

As school let out, Xue Shu noticed a street vendor selling “peace apples” at the school gate. Ordinary apples, dressed up in fancy wrapping, transformed into little treasures now flaunting their inflated worth.

In the past, Xue Shu would scoff at the crowd flocking to buy them, but this year… the packaging was too pretty, and the lights twinkling on the strings hanging from them were too eye-catching. Without thinking too much, he found himself buying one.

Walking towards the bus stop with the glittering apple in hand, Xue Shu’s mind raced, his thoughts tangled in a knot of uncertainty: Would he want it?

Today, Yin Chengyu had taken longer than usual to leave school. By the time Xue Shu arrived at the gate of Yanguo High, Yin Chengyu was still nowhere to be seen.

Normally, Xue Shu would arrive and find him already waiting at the gate, and then they’d take the subway to Xue Shu’s place for extra lessons. But the black Bentley that used to arrive promptly to pick him up after school had now been replaced to pickup at eight in the evening outside his apartment.

Xue Shu had been waiting at the school gate for fifteen minutes, and still, no sign of Yin Chengyu. He checked his phone again—no replies to the messages he’d sent. Frowning, he was about to ask one of the students leaving the school when he overheard a conversation.

"Turns out the school beauty and the school prince really are a perfect match. Only someone like Song Ya would dare to pull off a scene like that," one student excitedly said.

"I heard that the Song and Yin families are a good match, both of them have a lot of power. And with Song Ya confessing in front of so many people, there’s no way he could turn her down—he’s got to be a gentleman about it," another voice chimed in.

“I heard from my dad that the Song and Yin families are working on a big project together. Maybe this is just the beginning—they’ll probably get engaged in college and married right after graduation. Wouldn’t surprise me.”

Xue Shu’s grip on the apple tightened, his jaw clenching slightly as the words lingered in the air.

A group of students, laughing and joking, wandered off into the distance. But for Xue Shu, it felt like a sudden chill had slammed into his chest, freezing his thoughts and slowing his mind. It took a while for him to gather his senses, but once he did, one thing became undeniable: the campus heartthrob of Yan Guo High was Yin Chengyu.

He gripped the beautifully wrapped apple in his hand tightly, instinctively moving toward the school gates, only to be stopped by a guard. In a daze, Xue Shu regained his focus, pressed his lips together tightly, and walked around the school's perimeter, searching for a quiet spot before easily climbing over the wall.

The campus of Yan Guo High was massive, and Xue Shu had no clue where Yin Chengyu might be. He just followed the crowds, which, without realizing it, led him to the playground. It had already been more than twenty minutes since school let out, but a crowd of students still lingered on the field, clearly gathered to watch something.

As he got closer, the crowd parted just enough for Xue Shu to spot Yin Chengyu in the center, standing tall and handsome in his uniform. Across from him was a girl in the same uniform, and they seemed to be talking, though Xue Shu was too far to hear their words.

Around them, countless roses and candles formed a circle, setting the stage for whatever was unfolding. The crowd buzzed with chants of "Say yes!" and "Get together!"

Xue Shu’s grip on the apple tightened, the crinkling plastic wrapping screaming in his ears. He stood frozen for a moment, his gaze unwavering, before he couldn’t take it anymore and spun around, walking away.

He wandered out of Yan Guo High in a haze, staring at the now-damaged wrapping paper in his hand. Lips pressed together, he approached the nearest trash can. His hand reached out to throw it away, but then froze.

He stood still for what felt like forever, before finally pulling his hand back. With a sharp motion, he tore the paper off, revealing the ordinary apple inside. Breaking it in half, Xue Shu bit into it. The 29.90 yuan apple was sour and bitter—just as fake as the so-called "peace apple" it was marketed as.

Without a change in expression, he finished the apple, tossing the core into the trash, and walked away, leaving nothing but the lingering chill.