He and Henry Howard never used to correct their mistakes, but now every wrong answer had been marked by Old Thompson with a red pen. Not only did he mark the correct answers, he even stuck sticky notes with solution ideas and simple templates next to each one.

Ethan Young was completely speechless.

He just felt that the burden of being a bad student was so heavy it could crush him.

Ethan Young had never met a teacher like Old Thompson.

Back on Heishui Street, because of his outstanding grades, the homeroom teacher often sent him to participate in competitions, but otherwise they had little interaction. After coming to Westlake High, all the subject teachers just wanted to keep the peace and avoid trouble.

Looking at these materials, Ethan Young finally understood what Henry Howard meant by ‘I’m afraid of scaring them’—this homeroom teacher of Class Three really saw him and Henry Howard as students who needed help.

And there was also the class committee member who always worried about their grades.

Henry Howard only improved by a dozen points at the end of the term, but the people in Class Three were happier in the group chat than if they’d gotten good grades themselves.

The materials in his hand suddenly felt heavier and heavier.

Old Thompson checked the time and said, “Alright, go back to class.”

When Ethan Young took the stack of materials back to class, the Class Three classroom was in chaos. The school was probably organizing some sports activity again, and Logan Wright was waving a sign and shouting, “—Anyone else? Who else wants to join?”

Henry Howard was making a racket in the back, but stopped when he saw him come in.

Ethan Young tossed the materials onto the desk. Henry Howard reached out and flipped through a couple of pages: “What did Old Thompson want with you? What the hell is this?”

“Materials,” Ethan Young said, then quietly exhaled and hesitated before asking, “Where’s your plan? Let me see.”

“What?”

Ethan Young said, “Steady improvement.”

Logan Wright was still up front asking if anyone wanted to join.

Someone had just come back in and asked, “What activity is it?”

Logan Wright said, “Basketball game! Excited? Don’t you feel the blood of men burning?”

“Wasn’t it canceled?”

“I heard from Wanda that Mad Dog applied to the higher-ups several times, and finally got it approved.”

Last year, the basketball game almost ended in a fight. Mad Dog was publicly criticized in front of the whole school for it, scolded them harshly, and threatened to axe the event and make everyone go play shuttlecock instead.

But in private, it was also Mad Dog who pleaded with the school leaders to get the basketball game back.

The bell rang for class, but they were still reluctant to drop the basketball topic. When Old Warren came in, he scolded them: “Are you holding a meeting? Didn’t you hear the bell?”

First period in the afternoon, Old Warren taught a few new points and had them do some practice problems to reinforce them.

The only sounds left in the classroom were the faint noises of correction tape hitting the desk as they grabbed their stationery, and a few students whispering about the problems.

Ethan Young gripped his pen. On his desk was still that competition book all the teachers mistook for a “comic.”

He felt a bit hopeless inside.

Henry Howard was lying on the desk, not asleep, and reached out to slowly pull the pen from Ethan Young’s hand. “What are you thinking?”

Ethan Young suddenly felt his palm empty. He closed the competition book, thinking, what else could he think? The burden of being a bad student was just too heavy.

“Thinking about whether I should leave others a chance to live.”

94. Chapter Ninety-Four

Henry Howard was about to speak when half a piece of chalk hit the corner of his desk with perfect accuracy.

Old Warren had given them a few minutes to do the problems, thinking they were simple and they should have finished by now. He looked up and saw the two worst students in the grade huddled together being chummy: “You two in the back, I know you’re close, but can you pay a little more attention to me during class? Am I really that unappealing?”

“You’re very appealing, very appealing,” Henry Howard replied enthusiastically, raising his voice, “Old Thompson is Westlake High’s Greg Forrest, and you’re Westlake High’s Andy Carter.”

Ethan Young was honestly impressed by Henry Howard’s ability to flatter with a straight face.

Old Warren was floating from the praise. Amid the laughter, this middle-aged man, who was nothing like Andy Carter, smoothed his hair and replied calmly, “Back in the day, I was a big deal at school too.”

The class burst out laughing.

After the commotion, even the students who had been dozing off were more awake. Old Warren decided to stop while he was ahead and signaled everyone to quiet down: “Did you get the answers to the problems I just gave you?”

The whole class had only covered a few new theorems, and the practice problems weren’t hard. Ethan Young propped his head up and listened for a bit. Henry Howard suddenly reached over and pulled up his collar. “What are you doing?”

“Well,” Henry Howard paused, then said a bit awkwardly, “hickey.”

“”

Henry Howard: “I’ll be more careful next time.”

Ethan Young wanted to say ‘get lost’, but before he could, his ears were a little hot.

When Old Warren finished explaining the problems, class was over.

Everyone had been staring at the word “PE” on the right side of the blackboard for ages, their minds full of the next PE class.

Even after class, Old Warren was still worried about the two worst students and called them over: “You two stay a moment. Did you understand the problems I taught this period?”

The problems weren’t hard. Ethan Young considered and said, “Yes.”

Henry Howard: “Me too.”

Old Warren didn’t believe it at all: “What do you mean, you understood!”

“How many times have I told you, don’t pretend to understand when you don’t. Don’t think I don’t know you’re just thinking about playing on the field during PE next period.”

“No, really—”

Old Warren cut him off mercilessly: “You think I don’t know your little tricks? I’ll explain the problem to you again.”

Ethan Young: “”

Henry Howard: “”

When Old Warren finished and left, Logan Wright resumed shouting about the basketball sign-up he hadn’t finished during the last break: “Anyone have any ideas? Anyone else want to join?”

Although he usually had a fixed team with Luke Carter and the others, for an official match, he still wanted to win a trophy for the class if possible. Logan Wright continued to hint: “Honestly, I think if Ethan Bro would cooperate and Bro Henry used fewer tricks and a bit more sincerity, our class could make it to the finals.”

The hint was obvious.

Ethan Young had just been force-fed a life lesson by William Warren about “it’s not shameful not to know, but don’t pretend you do,” and was exhausted. He replied mercilessly, “Then just keep thinking about it.”

Henry Howard: “I think my deskmate is right.”

Logan Wright was speechless: “Don’t you two think you’re being a bit much?”

Luke Carter heard the words “Ethan Bro cooperate” and thought the plan was hopeless: “You might as well hope your teammate me suddenly gets amazing and becomes Westlake High’s River Maple.”

Logan Wright was conflicted: “Haozi, get lost.”

Henry Howard really wasn’t interested in this kind of competition. Playing casually was fine, but all the fighting for nothing was pointless.

“Seriously, I’m out,” Henry Howard said, dropping his smile. “Just remember to keep an eye on Class Four’s team.”

This semester, the schedule had changed, and Class Three’s PE class was at the same time as Class Four’s.

Class hadn’t even started yet, but there were already a lot of people on the field, sitting in circles on the track. At a glance, you couldn’t tell which class was which.

The sunlight shone straight down, dazzlingly bright. Ethan Young sat behind Henry Howard, using him as a sunshade, head down fiddling with his phone, replying to Ms. Miller’s message.

—How have you been lately? Make sure to eat well and don’t stay up late.

—Mm.

Ethan Young had just typed a character, but the phone screen was still a bit reflective, so he leaned forward, his forehead just resting against Henry Howard’s back, clearly feeling the slight vibration in his chest when he laughed.

Then he replied: Got it, I’m fine.

As they talked, people from Class Four came over with a ball, stopped by Class Three’s circle, and smiled as they glanced at them: “Who did your class sign up?”

Before they could answer, he added, “See you on the court.”

Leonard Brooks was at the back, not wearing a uniform, a non-mainstream iron chain hanging lazily at his waist, with a cross dangling from the thin chain. He didn’t say anything, but after passing by, he glanced back at them a few times without expression.

Last semester, there had been some unpleasantness with Class Four on the court, and Logan Wright and the others still remembered it.

Logan Wright watched them walk by, feeling something was off, and scratched his head: “What do you think they mean by that?”

Ethan Young finished his message and looked up, meeting Leonard Brooks’s dark gaze.