After they finished, Ray Jones was quite happy and said, "Come on, let's go have a few drinks at my family's stall." Ethan Young tossed the wooden stick aside, and when he refused, his voice was so hoarse it was barely audible. Only then did Ray Jones realize something was wrong. He reached out to feel his forehead—it was burning hot.

It wasn't a big deal.

But it was precisely these little details, the ones even he hadn't noticed, that someone else had taken to heart with such care.

His hand was gradually warmed.

Even Ethan Young himself didn't notice that as the warmth slowly spread, his previously irritable mood was gradually soothed.

More than half the class had already arrived, most of them copying homework. Those who weren't copying couldn't help but compare answers and casually correct a few questions. When Quinn Shaw came over to collect the test papers, Henry Howard had only just started making up his homework.

"Bro Henry, you didn't do it again," Quinn Shaw said, unfazed, standing to the side with a stack of test papers in her arms, watching as she spoke. "Everyone else hands in a full set, you hand in half. You might as well be like Yu-ge and just not hand it in at all. How can you even fill in the answers when you don't have the previous questions? What are you choosing?"

Under Henry Howard's arm was half a set of final exam practice papers that he'd finally managed to dig out from under the desk. Even though the entire reading passage was printed on the other half of the test paper, which was nowhere to be found, it didn't affect his answering at all.

Henry Howard said, "Answering questions is all about feeling. If it feels right, that's enough."

Quinn Shaw: "All I feel is that you're doomed. The English teacher won't let you off."

With one set of practice exams after another, the finals finally arrived.

Outside the gate of No. 2 High School, the food street was decorated with all kinds of banners. Zhuangyuan Lou took advantage of the finals to launch a big "20% off everything" promotion.

-- Warmly welcoming the finals, celebrating No. 2 High School students taking the exams, 20% off everything during the exam period!

""

"One of these days I'm going to blow up Zhuangyuan Lou. They're just too much."

"Exams are painful, but once they're over, we can enjoy a happy holiday," Luke Carter said as he directed everyone to move desks and chairs. "Thinking about it that way, doesn't it feel a bit easier?"

Ethan Young had to move the desks and chairs to the row on the left. He had just dragged his chair a few steps when he saw a girl ahead struggling to move hers.

Her desk was stuffed full of books and materials, making it too heavy to push. Moving slowly, she blocked the people behind her who needed to shift their seats.

Henry Howard had only prepared a gel pen, sitting at the end of the first row, spinning the pen between his fingers. He turned his head and saw his little one helping someone move their desk and chair from the front of the row to the back.

Even though he looked the same as always on the surface, the weather was already cold, and just one glance at him made it feel like the temperature around dropped a few more degrees.

That girl in their class wondered if Ethan Young was annoyed at how slow she was moving.

"Here?" Ethan Young stopped and asked.

"Y-yes, thank you."

Henry Howard couldn't help but let the corners of his mouth curl up as he watched.

After Ethan Young sat down, he realized this guy was staring at him. Staring was one thing, but he didn't even know what he was smiling about. Across the room, he mouthed to Henry Howard: Are you fucking sick?

The finals lasted three days in total.

The atmosphere in every exam room was tense, except for the last one.

In the gathering place for underachievers, it was still the same old faces. Even if someone cheated and got a high score, they'd still get smacked down by the mad dog. They all looked like reclusive masters, with nerves of steel, chatting and laughing.

There were also some who cared about their grades, and before the proctor arrived, someone stood up to rally the troops: "Whether we have a good New Year depends on this exam."

"Everyone here, even though we're the bottom thirty in the grade, we can't give up hope. If we all work together, every question we get is a win. As long as we pool our wisdom and spread it to every corner of the classroom—"

These students, who called cheating "spreading wisdom," didn't get much out of it anyway. Even with cheat notes flying everywhere, everyone's abilities were about the same.

Ethan Young looked at Henry Howard's answer sheet. After several exams, Henry Howard had indeed quietly raised his scores in every subject.

------------

84. Chapter Eighty-Four

This time, the finals were overall more difficult, harder than any previous years, especially the last few big math problems, which were tough to score on. In the underachievers' corner, there was no wisdom to pool.

At first, cheat notes were flying everywhere, but soon everything quieted down.

Taking advantage of the proctor turning his back and checking the reading corner, someone started whispering, "Why aren't we passing notes anymore?"

"Pass what? I don't know how to do it."

"It's too hard. I'm going to remember the name of the person who made this test, William Warren!"

Complaints filled the room. Ethan Young held his pen, having scanned through almost all the questions, then folded up the scrap paper filled with correct answers. Just as he was halfway through folding it, he heard the idiot behind him echoing the others: "It really is hard."

Henry Howard hadn't answered many questions, had already put down his pen, and was sitting in the corner looking listless. He wasn't wearing his school uniform, propping his chin up with one hand, and said to the guy next to him, "I can't even understand the questions."

"" Still acting, huh.

Ethan Young leaned back without a word, reached his hand under the desk, and tapped his fingers on the underside of Henry Howard's desk: "Cut the act."

Just earlier, this guy had passed him a note halfway through the exam, arrogantly scrawled with three words: Too easy.

As the notes went back and forth, the topic shifted to how they'd spend the holidays.

-- Little one, are you going straight home later?

-- Or should I squeeze in another night with you?

-- That wouldn't be so bad.

-- Get lost.

It was overcast, the dark clouds at the horizon looked like they were about to press down, and for the last exam, everyone was exhausted and tense.

Manager Jensen's broadcast came with a bit of static. Usually, hearing his voice just gave them a headache, but now, it unexpectedly soothed their anxiety: "There are ten minutes left until the end of the exam. Please pay attention to your time."

The proctor wandered over from the group on the side, humming a little tune and glancing out the window as he walked.

This time it wasn't Old Tang proctoring. This teacher was pretty lax, turning a blind eye to them passing answers, not really caring. He probably figured that even if these guys copied answers and discussed face to face, they still wouldn't get much.

Ten minutes passed quickly, and the bell rang to collect the papers.

Ethan Young gripped his pen, staring at the answer sheet where he'd kept his score just below average, zoning out for a moment.

These past few days, Ms. Miller had called him every night, worried about stressing him out but unable to resist asking how his studying was going.

"Mom doesn't expect you to get great grades, just do your best. Otherwise, you'll be the one who regrets it later."

In his ears was the sound of the proctor pacing back and forth, but Ethan Young seemed to hear Ms. Miller sighing. After a pause, she said to him, "What do you want to eat after the exam? Make sure you pack up everything you need—"

It wasn't until Henry Howard patted him and passed the test papers forward that he finally put down his pen.

Ethan Young held the test paper, feeling an indescribable irritation.

After a while, he let out a quiet breath and passed the paper up.

When the exam ended, the whole room cheered. Someone nearby packed up and asked, "Bro Henry, how do you feel?"

Henry Howard had nothing to pack, one hand in his pocket, half-sitting on the desk waiting for his boyfriend. He smiled and said, "I feel great, especially that last subject. I was totally in the zone—should be able to get twenty points."

The guy was stunned by "twenty points" and didn't know what to say for a moment.

"" Ethan Young tossed the scrap paper from earlier into the trash, then walked over and lightly kicked the leg of the desk where Henry Howard was sitting. "Let's go, twenty points."

This time, Grace Miller insisted on coming to pick him up from school. Ethan Young stood at the stairwell corner, answering the phone. He refused several times to no avail, raised his hand to rub his forehead, and unconsciously spoke with more force: "Really, you don't have to. I can go home by myself. The bus stop is just across the street, and I don't have much stuff."

People were coming and going in the hallway.

Ms. Miller's voice was mostly muffled, but Ethan Young still clearly heard the silence on the other end for a few seconds.

Then, Ms. Miller almost cautiously asked, "Should I park the car next to your school?"

Ethan Young tightened his fingers, the words circling in his mouth before finally coming out as, "Got it."

He rarely heard Ms. Miller speak in that tone.

Usually, Ms. Miller would lose her temper after just a couple of sentences, especially when it came to Heishui Street or his grades. Both of them had to hold back to be able to sit down and talk calmly for a bit longer.

The school gate at No. 2 High was packed with cars, the traffic jam stretching all the way to two blocks away.

Ethan Young dragged his suitcase, circling around before finally finding Ms. Miller's car.