Henry Howard: "I like it, really like it."

"I also tried it out, that little game everyone says is so popular. Henry Howard, I heard you've been playing it all along," Thomas Thompson didn't mention the test paper, just took out his phone, "I didn't expect your taste to be so innocent and pure."

"Innocent and pure?"

He really didn't get those four odd words, innocent and pure—where did old Thompson get that idea from?

While old Thompson was looking down fiddling with his phone, Henry Howard nudged Ethan Young with his arm: "Is he saying I'm childish?"

"No idea, and I don't want to know."

"How else can you be innocent and pure? Guys like old Thompson, middle-aged men, their hobbies are probably just playing chess, making tea, and teasing birds," the more Henry Howard thought about it, the more he felt that was it, "That King of Guns: C Terror Battleground or whatever, he definitely can't play that."

Thomas Thompson opened the game as he spoke: "I don't think games are bad. Everything has two sides. On the positive side, while they help people relax and have fun, they can also train a person's self-control."

Henry Howard didn't care about the details, just nodded along: "Yes, I think so too, what you said makes so much sense."

Ethan Young caught a glimpse of a very familiar shade of pink flash across Thomas Thompson's phone screen.

But it was just a glance. Thomas Thompson got excited talking, put his phone away, and continued: "This ability to control yourself and your willpower is very important. There are so many temptations in the world. Let me give you a few examples—"

Henry Howard was getting sleepy listening, and secretly reached his hand over to Ethan Young.

Ethan Young looked down: "What are you doing?"

"Pinch me," Henry Howard said, "I'm not really awake right now."

Ethan Young's hand had just touched the back of Henry Howard's hand, hadn't even started pinching, when Thomas Thompson shifted the topic from self-control to studying, then combined studying and gaming together—and then old Thompson pushed his phone over, and seeing the pink game interface, Henry Howard suddenly sobered up: ""

The talk went on for half an hour, and only when the class bell rang did Thomas Thompson let them go.

Henry Howard was so distracted when he left that he forgot his manners, didn't even say 'goodbye, teacher'.

Ethan Young really wanted to laugh, but held it in the whole time.

Henry Howard walked out quickly, but after a few steps stopped, saw Ethan Young like that, and reminded him: "Don't laugh, I'm seriously about to explode right now."

The first class in the afternoon was history. By the time they got back, the history teacher was already in the classroom.

"Hurry up and come in, class is starting, why are you still dawdling?" The history teacher said while flipping through a book, "Once the bell rings, get back to your seats and sit properly."

Just now in the office, Thomas Thompson had shown them his level in the dress-up game, and his thoughts after playing it for a while. In the end, he tried to combine the game with studying, hoping to spark their interest in learning.

"In this game, every level gives you a dress-up theme, and then the player has to think. Now look at this modern reading comprehension question—actually, doing questions is the same thing. Why doesn't this dress work? Why is this answer wrong? You have to think, then solve the problem."

He could understand Thomas Thompson's intention—he wanted to use this method to tell Henry Howard that studying could also become a fun 'game'.

But the method was just too shocking.

The history teacher started the new lesson up front.

Ethan Young couldn't hold it in the more he thought about it. He was about to lay down for a nap, but suddenly covered his face with one hand, his shoulders shaking.

Henry Howard's mind was full of Thomas Thompson saying "this dress, that dress", and he turned to ask Ethan Young if old Thompson was crazy, only to see Ethan Young covering his face, laughing nonstop.

"" Henry Howard paused and said, "If you're my bro, don't laugh at me at a time like this."

Ethan Young clearly chose not to be a bro.

Henry Howard could only turn his head back—this little heartless guy, out of sight, out of mind.

After a few minutes, Henry Howard couldn't help but lean over to the little heartless guy and say, "Actually, I have another question."

"?"

"Why is old Thompson's level higher than mine? I'm a full-on pay-to-win player—" Henry Howard got halfway through and couldn't go on, "Old Young, you're too much, seriously, are you still laughing?"

Henry Howard really wanted to go squat in the bathroom and have a smoke, but in reality, he could only find a piece of candy on himself.

"I'll bet fifty cents, it was definitely that brat Wanda." Henry Howard glanced around the class, "Who else could it be? That guy, even with his mouth shut, secrets leak out."

Wanda got blamed for no reason, and didn't even know it himself.

The monthly exam papers were graded quickly. By the next morning, as everyone was coming through the school gates, the ranking list was already posted on the bulletin board—black characters on a white background, a whole board packed with names.

The boarders still weren't used to "Serve the Country with Utmost Loyalty" as their wake-up bell, or to the radio host Manager Jensen's twenty-minute-long morning speech: "We must strive, give it our all, and not let our future selves regret!"

Ethan Young was woken up by the noise as usual, and outside the door, the energetic boarders were doing their morning cursing routine.

There was also a text from across the hall from Henry Howard, probably just woken up too. The text had only one character: Shit.

A few minutes later, another text came.

- Hey kid, you up?

- Nope.

- Me neither, let's get through these twenty minutes and go back to sleep.

- Aren't you going to class this morning?

- First period is old Thompson's class, let me chill for a bit.

Henry Howard skipped the first class, but his test paper was already being passed around the class.

"If we bound all the Chinese test papers Bro Henry has done into a book, it'd be a source of endless joy," Luke Carter said, "I've never seen anyone with such badass ways of solving problems, even talking back to the question setter, damn."

"Did you see his essay? 'Back View', and he wrote about his own back, first sentence—'I think my back view is especially handsome', then went on bragging for eight hundred words."

"Hahahahahaha, is he trying to kill me with laughter? Ethan Bro, did you see it? Come over and check it out."

Ethan Young had never realized so clearly that in just one short month since school started, his life had become completely different from before.

All of a sudden—so many new voices appeared.

These voices barged in, one after another.

So noisy, so lively.

Henry Howard timed it perfectly to sneak into the classroom right after Chinese class ended.

Quinn Shaw was handing out English test papers, and reminded him, "You still haven't handed in your English homework."

Henry Howard had just reached the door: "What English homework?"

"Copy the vocabulary from the next unit, four times each." Quinn Shaw finished, then stuffed the English test paper into Henry Howard's arms, "This is yours and your deskmate's. You got thirty, your deskmate got twenty-five."

Their scores were about the same, but compared to grading Henry Howard's papers, teachers preferred grading Ethan Young's—at least his handwriting was nice, and you wouldn't stare at the paper for ages not knowing what the hell was written.

Henry Howard didn't care about scores or mistakes, just rolled the two sheets up and walked over to Ethan Young, knocked on the corner of his desk: "What are you looking at?"

Ethan Young didn't even look up, said, "Your essay."

Henry Howard: ""

"It's been passed around for a whole class, just got back from Class 8," Ethan Young said, "Oh, and you got a new nickname, Back View Bro."

Sean Parker even left class halfway, using the bathroom as an excuse, snuck out to the Class 3 hallway to squat, and had Wanda and the others pass Henry Howard's test paper to the window for him, saying their Class 8 classmates were very interested in a zero-point essay.

For it to get all the way to Class 8, Henry Howard didn't even have to ask to know which bastard it was: "What the hell, that's such an ugly nickname, doesn't match my talent at all."

Henry Howard was just saying he should at least be called something like "Great Literary Master", when Wanda burst in at the door. Every break, he couldn't help but squat by the office door to eavesdrop, and always brought back some half-true, half-fake, weird news: "Big news! Bro Henry, something bad happened."

Henry Howard tossed his test paper onto the desk, didn't really care, but still played along: "What is it? Don't panic, just say it slowly."

"The class rep took your test paper to old Thompson, said to raise the class average, he wants to tutor you two one-on-one," Wanda summarized what he'd overheard in the office, "He also said he wants to take on the responsibility of class rep, and old Thompson is still considering it."

"Is he serious?"

The rumor that Xavier Stone never slept and only studied had already been debunked a few days ago—Liam Harris put an end to the dorm ghost story and panda rumor with a fire extinguisher.

The class rep did love studying, but not to the point of risking his life. It was just his first time leaving school, couldn't sleep in a new bed, and was sleep deprived. But because his attitude toward studying was so upright, it made him seem out of place.