William Foster: "When a person is in extreme sorrow, they often don't shed tears."

On the flag-raising platform, a student representative took the microphone and began to announce the disciplinary notice: "Our school's Class 7, Grade 11 student Samuel Clark violated school rules and regulations by climbing over the wall to enter and exit the school last night. The nature of the incident is serious. Now, let's invite Samuel Clark to come on stage and make a self-criticism in front of all teachers and students."

As soon as this was said, the whole school was in an uproar.

For them, the new semester had just begun. In fact, if you exclude the two days of placement tests and paper reviews, today was the first real day.

And the school bully already had a fresh self-criticism to read on the very first day of the new semester.

"This is insane," someone whispered. "How fast is that?"

In fact, Samuel Clark himself was quite surprised. He always knew what he was doing. If it weren't for some unknown classmate working against him behind his back, he wouldn't have ended up having to write a self-criticism.

So, all the teachers and students watched as a young man walked out from among thousands of people below the stage. Even though it was morning, the sun was already casting a golden layer of heat over the entire lawn.

He was still wearing a T-shirt, the hem loose, as he stepped onto the stage.

Samuel Clark took the microphone from a classmate at the side. As the mic was handed over, there was a short, piercing noise, followed by the kind of bold and casual voice unique to boys his age. The voice started with a "Hey," then said, "Respected teachers and fellow students."

Everyone thought the self-criticism had begun.

But then the tone shifted: "My self-criticism might take a while this time. Before I start, I'd like to make a suggestion to the school leadership."

This part from Samuel Clark was off-script; he hadn't even opened his self-criticism letter. "Can we set an upper limit on the word count for self-criticisms? Otherwise, if it ever piles up to thirty thousand words, I don't really mind, but the other students still have classes to attend."

William Foster finally understood: in extreme sorrow, not only are there no tears, but even breathing and heartbeat can suddenly stop. When Samuel Clark came down from the stage, he took a deep breath and said, "Samuel Clark—come to my office before class."

Last night, William Foster was still preparing for the "One-on-One" program.

In their class, there's Brian Cooper, an outstanding student in both character and academics, a model student in the eyes of teachers and classmates, and the kind of child parents wish they had. If only Samuel Clark could interact more with such excellent students, surely after a semester of positive influence, he would discover the true path in life and establish the right attitude toward learning and values.

There are no students who can't be taught well, only teachers who don't work hard enough.

So, after standing in the teachers' office for less than three minutes, Samuel Clark realized that what William Foster wanted to talk to him about was not quite what he had expected.

William Foster scolded him, but after the scolding, changed the subject: "You just got assigned to this class, so you're probably not very familiar with your classmates yet, right?"

Samuel Clark handed in his self-criticism. William Foster glanced down at it—it was all scribbles, and he had no idea how Samuel Clark managed to read it out loud. The first crossed-out curse word was actually written quite neatly.

After handing in the self-criticism, Samuel Clark said, "Not really..." Not really familiar.

He hadn't even finished the word "familiar" when William Foster continued, "It's okay if you're not familiar yet. You just need to be more proactive in interacting with your classmates, participate actively, and you'll get to know each other soon. Here, let me introduce you to our classmate Brian Cooper."

Brian Cooper.

The name rang a bell for Samuel Clark.

He was the one David Bolton had been talking about all day yesterday but never saw—the academic genius who scored more than twenty points higher than the grade's second place.

But something about this didn't sound right.

What kind of introduction is this?

William Foster took a sip of water, looking like he was about to start a three-day, three-night lecture: "Our classmate Brian Cooper..."

William Foster and Samuel Clark were thinking completely different things. He thought he had made it clear enough yesterday: you mind your own business, I won't bother you, and we'll all get along just fine.

If it were any other teacher, they probably wouldn't bother spending any more energy on him.

Samuel Clark didn't really know what William Foster was up to, but he straightened up and interrupted, "I don't want to meet him."

Obviously, he was a step too late in saying this.

A voice came from behind:

"Excuse me."

Chapter Four

At this time, the office was crowded with people—class representatives from every class rushing in after the flag-raising ceremony to hand in homework—but this voice was impossible to ignore, like a sudden cool breeze in the sweltering summer.

It was not only impossible to ignore, but also sounded a bit familiar, so much so that in this noisy, market-like place, Samuel Clark heard the words "Excuse me" especially clearly.

"You came at just the right time," William Foster put down his cup, "Did you collect all the homework?"

"Missing one."

Samuel Clark lowered his eyes carelessly and first saw the corner of a gray-blue school uniform. Then the person beside him put a stack of homework on the desk, so Samuel Clark shifted his gaze up two inches and saw a slender, well-defined hand in front of his eyes.

The wrist bone was prominent, and the fingers were long.

William Foster wanted to ask whose homework was missing, but when he saw the person who had just come down from the self-criticism stage, he realized there was no need to ask. He said, "You took a leave yesterday, so you're probably not very familiar with the people in the class yet. It just so happens that the person who didn't hand in homework is right here. You two... get to know each other. It'll make collecting homework easier in the future."

"I never hand in homework, so it won't make it any easier."