The classroom was deathly silent.

After learning about the class assignments, Class Seven’s students quickly set up a class group chat—one without any teachers for now. The original purpose was simply to have a place to cry together with comrades, to look ahead at their hellish sophomore year, and to encourage each other to survive.

Aside from teachers and the school bully, even the top student wasn’t in the group. The reason for this was pure admiration for their idol—they were too shy to add him as a friend. Besides, Brian Cooper had taken leave, and those who had been in the same class as Brian Cooper in their first year said he never checked the class group anyway.

Unexpectedly, this gave them a chance to gossip.

In the midst of this strange silence, someone finally spoke up in the group chat.

[Student A]: Wow.

[Student B]: Um, what’s going on with those two? Something seems off?

[Student C]: I’ve got some news, not sure if it’s true, but I heard the school bully got caught climbing the wall, and it was the top student who caught him.

[Student A]: Exciting! Where did you hear that?

[Student C]: The dorm manager is my classmate’s cousin’s uncle. I heard it from him. The connection’s a bit distant, but it should be reliable.

[Student D]: So the school bully and the top student are at odds now? As expected of the top student, even dares to take on the school bully. Does the warrior know? @John Thompson

[John Thompson]: ...I don’t know.

[Student D]: I don’t dare look back. Warrior, give us a live report—what’s the school bully’s reaction right now?

[John Thompson]: ...I don’t dare look either.

[Student D]: Be brave! Are you a man or not!

John Thompson replied after more than ten seconds: The reaction... looks... a bit dangerous.

The candy that Samuel Clark had just bitten into pieces melted in his mouth, the taste was so sweet it was almost sickening, rushing up all at once and leaving him dazed.

His first thought after snapping out of it was: Are you fucking crazy?

Only Brian Cooper acted as if nothing had happened, tossing the plastic stick into the trash can at the back, then pulling out his chair and sitting down across the aisle from Samuel Clark—not too wide, not too narrow.

“Why is it so quiet today?” The math teacher walked in with a set square, expecting the class to be in chaos since she was a few minutes late. “Not bad. I’ll be sure to give you all a special commendation to Old Meng later.”

The math teacher was young, not yet thirty, with short hair and a brisk, decisive manner. She set down the set square, picked a piece of chalk from the box, snapped it in one hand, and said, “This is our second lesson today. You’ve all previewed, right? Did you finish the problems I assigned?”

Everyone started flipping through their books, and for a moment, the only sound was the rustling of pages.

Samuel Clark used every ounce of self-control and reason he had not to rush over and ask if he was insane.

He’d planned to catch up on sleep during class, but now he was wide awake. He opened his book and, for once, actually listened to the teacher explain two formulas.

Whether he understood them or not was another matter.

Just as Samuel Clark finally calmed down, halfway through class, a message from David Bolton burned away what little reason he had left.

David Bolton: I heard the top student snatched your lollipop?

Samuel Clark: ...

David Bolton, eager for gossip: Is it true? The news just came from Class Four. Why did he take your candy?

Rumors like this spread fast and get twisted along the way—like how “Xiao Ming’s grandpa lived to a hundred” turns into “Xiao Ming doesn’t have a grandpa.”

Samuel Clark: Aren’t you all bored.

Samuel Clark: He didn’t take my candy.

Samuel Clark: He—

Samuel Clark hadn’t finished typing “He’s just a lunatic” when someone knocked on the edge of his desk.

“Phone,” Brian Cooper said. “Hand it over.”

Brian Cooper didn’t even turn his head as he spoke. He just reached out during a break in the lesson and tapped Samuel Clark’s desk twice with his pen. The aisle between the first and second groups wasn’t wide—just an arm’s length.

Samuel Clark was stunned for a moment, then let out a laugh of disbelief.

He licked his back teeth, then tossed his phone straight into the desk compartment with a bang.

He felt like if he held back any longer, he’d really get sick from anger.

When Samuel Clark was truly angry, he habitually wore a slight smile, just like that time he threatened someone outside the internet café. At first glance, he looked calm and collected: “What’s your problem?”

John Thompson dragged his chair further away.

Brian Cooper was marking key formulas in his book with his pen. He didn’t really care about the guy next to him eating candy and playing on his phone, but the homeroom teacher had dropped several hints in the office, so he forced himself to muster a bit of patience and said, “No chatting during class.”

Samuel Clark: “What’s it to you if I chat or not?”

“If you don’t understand ‘no chatting,’ I’ll put it another way,” Brian Cooper switched to two words, “Shut up.”

“...”

The student in front started moving their chair too.

Samuel Clark didn’t back down. He leaned back in his chair and said, “I’ll say this once—mind your own business.”

The temperature dropped sharply, and the atmosphere grew more and more tense.

“I’ll only say this once too. If you want to chat, fine,” Brian Cooper finally looked up, let go of his pen, and his tone turned cold, “Hand in a 3,500-word essay after you’re done.”

“...” Samuel Clark was speechless.

“Still want to chat?” Brian Cooper asked.

“If not, turn your head back and listen to the lesson.”

For the first time, Samuel Clark, who had always done as he pleased at Linjiang No. 6 High, ran headfirst into a brick wall.