Chapter 19: Finals Await—I’ll Surpass You
“Stupid yellow dog, stop watching that furry crap!
You’re spreading bad vibes to the whole dorm!”
Liu Haoyang screeched in his shrill voice.
“You get squat—your dad’s watching what he damn well pleases.”
Huang Zhouxu fired back without mercy.
Lin Zhiyi sat on his bed, angle perfect for peeking at Huang Zhouxu’s phone screen: a virtual streamer, cartoon 2D girl avatar, but the video was on marine life.
Educational UP main?
“Ramen done? Gimme a sip of soup.”
Huang Zhouxu eyed Liu Haoyang’s red paper bucket greedily.
“Here—your dad’s treat.”
The chubby kid cursed the dog once more; Huang Zhouxu, too busy inhaling, skipped retort.
Liu Haoyang grumbled “starving ghost,” then turned to Lin Zhiyi.
“Bro Lin, word is you’re dating the class monitor—real or fake?”
“Fake.”
“Really fake?
She asked for your WeChat in class—I was shocked.
Blew up big; confession wall’s got ‘Who’s Lin Zhiyi? I’ll end him.’
Talk about wild.”
“Pfft—that’s nothing; lemme tell ya, my master’s not just tangling with the monitor.”
Huang Dog chimed in; Lin Zhiyi met his eyes, the guy catching on with a sly “hehe,” dropping it.
Lin Zhiyi felt a bad omen: this BYD knockoff’d spill his Lin Yingyuan thing someday.
Ignoring him, Lin Zhiyi checked his phone: messages from three.
Cheng Xiran: Club this afternoon.
Big Yellow Dog: Master, dorm at noon—Boys 301; class is boring.
Lemon Candy: Caf 3.
Tasty.
Love it.
Next time too!
(Animated: So full!)
Forgot to nickname Huang Zhouxu and Zhao Qingning; he added them quick.
Replied Zhao Qingning with an animated sticker.
Deliberately skipped Cheng Xiran’s—planned to hit back after school.
From her view, his phone was still desk-bound in the office.
Details matter—watertight, kid!
His screen lingered on her chat.
But then—sudden ping.
(Animated: Stare.)
From some cartoon: brown longhair in deep blue uniform, side-glance at screen, fisheye lens bulging pupils, gaze piercing barriers, seeing the viewer.
Lin Zhiyi jolted, screen-locking and flinging the phone bed-ward, patting his chest.
Glancing back: Huang Zhouxu and crew onto new chatter.
Question: sudden invisibility power—what’s your first move?
Liu Haoyang: “Heh heh—yank off old Gou’s mustache!”
Huang Zhouxu cringed a grin:
“I’d hit the girls’…”
Chubby cut him:
“Shut it—you; we know your head’s full of yellow trash.
Half-empty bottle sloshing loud.”
“You, Bro Lin?”
Lin Zhiyi pondered, grandly:
“Then I’d ghost into Caf 2, stand by the lunch auntie—flick her wrist every scoop, show off the shake.”
Liu Haoyang and Huang Zhouxu gawked, horrified.
Such malice.
…
“Just like that—if invisible, what’s your first act?”
Afternoon club, Lin Zhiyi brought it to Cheng Xiran and Xu Miaoyan.
Cheng Xiran perked, mulling seriously:
“If real, I’d crave it bad.”
“I’d observe people—see how they act alone vs. crowds, the differences.”
She glanced at Lin Zhiyi saying it.
“Miaomiao?”
Xu Miaoyan thought:
“Hm… pranks.”
“Invisible a few minutes daily—swap folks’ stuff around.
Once they freak, amp it: tap windows, nudge cabinets, midnight wails at their door.”
Cheng Xiran’s face twisted oddly.
“…So you.”
“How’re you that mean?”
Lin Zhiyi said.
“What about you—what for?”
Xu Miaoyan chuckled lightly, eyeing him.
Cheng Xiran watched too, intrigued, awaiting.
“Might sneak into gov halls, peek demolition plans—loan-buy nearby plots, wait for payout, then coast a bland life.”
He added inwardly: then pamper sis forever.
His answer drew Cheng Xiran’s subtle look; Xu Miaoyan’s… unreadable.
Damn bangs—Sadako vibes.
They got his drift, expressions varied.
They chatted more; topic drifted—then Cheng Xiran suddenly asked Lin Zhiyi:
“What do you do weekends?”
“Starting this weekend—part-time work.”
Lin Zhiyi answered truthfully; he’d planned it.
Tears on drumstick rice, vow to earn a mil.
Pocket change, sis support.
If Lin Yingyuan heard, she’d fist-pump, huffing: I can fend for myself!
“Part-time?”
She blinked, surprised.
“What job?”
“Found online tutoring—meeting tomorrow to check; kid’s probably middle school.
My zhongkao scores were solid; can explain clear.
Best bang-for-buck gig now.”
“Cool,”
Cheng Xiran’s eyes lit.
“I admire you, Lin Zhiyi.”
Xu Miaoyan shot her a disdainful glance—for no reason—but held her tongue.
Talk veered to grades; Lin Zhiyi knew Cheng Xiran’s: neck-and-neck with his, usually edging him out by spots; occasional surges let him win.
“What was your last exam rank?”
He asked Xu Miaoyan.
“200th.”
Mid-pack.
Solid for Ninghai, but Lin Zhiyi itched to jab—who made him use Cheng Xiran to troll?
He drawled scathingly:
“And you play the cultured type?
Book in hand all day, like it’s real.”
Xu Miaoyan gritted:
“You… ninth grade-wide?”
“Yup—any wisdom from outer-sect 200th to core disciple ninth?”
“…Finals—I’ll beat you!”
You mean scores, right?
Xu Miaoyan skipped midterms for finals—nearly four months off, hedging.
“Hahahaha…”
Lin Zhiyi cracked up.
“Confidence is step one to success.
But just confidence? Cue the belly laughs.”
“Laugh it up.”
Xu Miaoyan scratched her head, flushed but owning the roast—no anger.
“Beat me for real, dinner’s on me.”
He reined in, sincere.
Worth celebrating if she pulled it off.
Forgetting Cheng Xiran beside: he added,
“Class monitor too—club team-build.”
“Sure.
If I don’t—I’ll treat you both.”
Xu Miaoyan said evenly.
Hour-and-a-half flew; Friday’s two club slots done—study hall next, then weekend.
“New guy.”
Xu Miaoyan called as he locked up.
“Wisdom, 200th?”
She inhaled deep, gnashing:
“WeChat?”
“Scan me.”
“A Pear?”
Xu Miaoyan blinked.
“So lame.”
“Fine, not as lofty as yours—Sisyphus.”
Lin Zhiyi deadpanned, waving bye.
Cheng Xiran’s gaze lingered on them a beat, then she bid Xu Miaoyan farewell, falling in step beside Lin Zhiyi down the stairs.