DMMB Chapter 12

The people of Class One had probably never seen anything quite so magical.

After a moment of stunned silence, the entire classroom burst into laughter. There was no real malice behind it, just that Sheng Yan’s face grew redder by the second, while Qin Zigui’s face grew darker by the second.

Sheng Yan might be spoiled, but he was also reasonable. He knew he was in the wrong this time, and facing Qin Zigui’s numb, icy gaze made him genuinely embarrassed. He cleared his throat awkwardly, trying to save himself.

“Uh… that is… actually, that’s not what I meant. I just meant that birds like the cuckoo have negative symbolism, so poets often use them to express sorrow. I didn’t mean anything else…”

His voice grew quieter and quieter. Qin Zigui’s gaze grew colder and colder.

By the end, even Sheng Yan himself didn’t believe his explanation anymore. Left with no choice, he said stiffly, “Well… if you don’t have any other opinions, I’ll go back to studying now.”

Then he turned around with a stiff neck and buried his head in his books.

He thought that as long as he studied hard enough, all those worldly complications wouldn’t be able to catch up with him.

However, before even one morning had passed, the famous saying “Zigui is not a good bird” spread through the entire second-year grade at lightning speed.

Not only did it spread, people added fuel to the fire, fanned the flames, and even came up with vicious, divisive remarks like, “The cuckoo might be a beneficial bird, but Zigui definitely isn’t.”

As a result, the ordinarily unremarkable Chinese-language prodigy Sheng Xiaoyan spent the entire morning feeling chills down his back, tingling all over, as if he were being executed again and again by icy daggers of glare. He felt like he was sitting on pins and needles, thorns at his back, a lump in his throat, he didn’t dare lift his head from the ocean of knowledge for even a second.

The moment the noon dismissal bell rang, he moved at the fastest speed of his life, pulling his cap down, putting on his mask, and then, with his long legs, whoosh, streaking past Qin Zigui. Before Qin Zigui could even react, Sheng Yan bolted out the back door and fled the scene of the crime.

“I’ve gotta say, Brother Yan, you’re really something,” Gou You said, sipping milk tea and clicking his tongue. “You didn’t see the look Qin Zigui gave after you ran.”

Hearing the word “Zigui” now annoyed Sheng Yan to no end. Pressing down the brim of his cap, he sat in the farthest corner of the milk-tea-and-fried-chicken shop outside the school gate and shot Gou You an irritated glance. “Eat your fried chicken, or I’ll rip your tongue out.”

Gou You immediately fell silent.

Zhu Peng, however, boldly snapped off a chicken leg and fearlessly joined the conversation. “But Brother Yan, hiding like this isn’t a solution. You’re living at his place now, and your seat’s right in front of his. You see each other every day, there’s no way to avoid him.”

“No shit, I know that,” Sheng Yan snapped.

He was already annoyed out of his mind.

On the day of the Chinese exam, he’d just argued with Qin Zigui and was still holding in his anger. Then he saw the word ‘Zigui’ on the paper and improvised on the spot. He hadn’t expected to go too far nor to be remembered by Liang Jie, and publicly executed in front of Qin Zigui.

The shame was unbearable.

And Qin Zigui—that petty, scheming bastard was definitely holding a grudge, brewing something nasty, just waiting for the chance to strike back.

Thinking about having to face Qin Zigui’s death glare again that afternoon made Sheng Yan’s head ache, not to mention the one or two months of constant proximity ahead.

Dressed in a black cap, black clothes, and a black mask, Sheng Yan sat in the corner radiating visible dark energy, his entire aura screamed irritability.

As Sheng Yan’s number-one scheming advisor, Gou You seized the opportunity to offer a suggestion. “Brother Yan, why don’t you think of a way to move back?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Zhu Peng chimed in eagerly, not even swallowing his fried chicken before pledging loyalty. “Life without you is empty for Gou You and me.”

Sheng Yan replied expressionlessly, “There is a way. But…”

“But what?” they asked.

Sheng Yan said dully, “But the condition is that in the next mock exam, I pass every subject.”

“……”

Gou You and Zhu Peng fell silent.

This round of remedial classes at Shi Wai lasted over a month from July 7 to July 22 followed by more than half a month of break, then continuing from August 12 until the official start of school on September 1.

In other words, there were nearly two months left before the next mock exam.

And more importantly, asking Sheng Yan to pass every subject was nothing short of a fantasy.

Not to mention anything else—given his Chinese level of “Zigui is not a good bird,” passing a 100-point paper would already mean his ancestors’ graves were smoking with blessings. Passing a 150-point paper? Forget it.

After a brief silence, Zhu Peng broke off another chicken leg and handed it to Sheng Yan, mourning him with heartfelt sympathy. “Here, Brother Yan. Eat something good.”

Eat well before you go.

Sheng Yan didn’t even want to respond to him.

At that moment, Gou You seemed to remember something. He set down his chicken leg, took out his phone, tapped a few times, and held it out in front of Sheng Yan. “Have you joined this group?”

Sheng Yan glanced at it casually. The group name was [Lawless Zone]. He immediately looked away, deadpan. “I don’t cheat.”

“What are you thinking? Do I look like that kind of person?” Gou You swiped through the screen. “Don’t be fooled by the cocky name, it’s actually a Nanwu high school study-material sharing group. There are lots of big shots sharing resources, free or paid. Like this guy ‘Handsome God.’ He’s our group’s treasure.”

“Handsome God?” Sheng Yan raised an eyebrow slightly.

Gou You nodded. “Yeah. Handsome God. This number-one handsome guy in the world. His materials are comprehensive and precise, he nails key points and common mistakes perfectly. Everyone who’s used them says they’re great. Eighty yuan for one subject, one-fifty for two, four hundred for all subjects. As long as you study them seriously, improving your grades isn’t a dream.”

Was he really that amazing?

Sheng Yan eyed the flamboyant, emo-style profile picture that looked straight out of the Funeral Love Clan and felt skeptical. “And it says he’s in first year.”

He was about to move from second year to third, could some first-year kid really be better than him?

Raising his brows, Sheng Yan looked at Gou You with doubt.

Gou You met his gaze calmly and honestly. “To be fair, Brother Yan, with your real level, it wouldn’t be excessive to give you a ‘three years of middle school, two years of mock exams’ set right now.”

Sheng Yan, who hadn’t really listened in class since ninth grade: “……”

Did anyone ask you to be that honest?

Still, it wasn’t completely unreasonable.

He really wasn’t very familiar with the Grade Ten knowledge points either.

And after today’s legendary line—“Zigui is not a good bird”—things between him and Qin Zigui were probably beyond repair. So instead of suffocating himself in front of Qin Zigui, he might as well treat a dead horse like a living one and take a gamble.

With that thought, Sheng Yan reluctantly nodded. “Alright. Send me his contact card.”

“Got it.” Gou You answered briskly, then casually refreshed his phone and instantly changed expression. “Holy crap! Zhu Peng! Stop eating! The Weasel is leading people to do a surprise dorm inspection! Hurry back and hide the hotpot!”

With that, he grabbed his backpack with one hand, yanked Zhu Peng, who was still gnawing on a chicken wing with the other, and sprinted out of the shop toward the school.

A surprise dorm inspection, also known as a raid, happened once a week. Every time, it was carnage—wailing everywhere.

As a noble day student, Sheng Yan shook his head sympathetically, then stood up leisurely and walked to the counter. “One large pearl milk tea. Takeaway.”

Hating Qin Zigui was one thing, keeping his word about treating him to milk tea was another.

The cashier smiled sweetly and confidently. “Sure, classmate. No ice or less ice? And how sweet?”

Sheng Yan remembered Qin Zigui saying that morning that he liked sweet things, so he didn’t hesitate. “Less ice. Full sugar.”

He paused, felt that wasn’t enough, and added, “Add cheese foam.”

Another pause. “Also add grass jelly.”

Paused again. “And taro balls, coconut jelly, and popping boba one portion of each.”

The cashier’s sweet smile started to look a little less confident. “Classmate… are you sure?”

“Mm. I’m sure.”

Sheng Yan didn’t think twice.

If he was treating someone, he’d go big. He couldn’t let Qin Zigui think he was stingy and if it choked him to death, even better. Anyway, Sheng Yan never wanted to see him again for the rest of his life.

With that heroic thought, Sheng Yan reached into his pocket to pull out his phone and pay then froze.

Wait.

Where was his phone?

He checked another pocket.

Still nothing.

After a brief pause, it hit him.

Before class, he’d handed his phone to Qin Zigui. After class, he’d fled in guilt and completely forgotten to ask for it back.

Which meant that the two fried chickens, one jin of chicken bones, three grilled sausages, three milk teas, and now this extra-large family combo…

Sheng Yan, who had been a rich kid his entire life, looked at the hardworking part-time cashier in front of him, guiltily avoided her gaze, and coughed lightly. “Um… miss, if I say I forgot my phone and will go back to school right now to get it, then come back and pay would you believe me?”

The cashier smiled at him, just like a WeChat emoji.

A polite but firm refusal.

Thin-skinned, Sheng Yan’s ears turned red immediately. He whispered awkwardly, “Miss, please believe me. I’m really a student from the school across the street. I really will come back to pay…”

He was good-looking, didn’t have that slouchy delinquent vibe, and when he called her “miss,” there was even a hint of obedience. With his ears turning red like that, the cashier, who’d been smiling emoji-style—softened instantly and lowered her voice. “Sorry, classmate. We’re just part-time workers too, so we really can’t let you leave like this. How about I lend you my phone can you call a teacher or a friend to come help you out?”

Logging into WeChat or QQ on a new device required phone verification, so those were useless. He could only make a call.

But calling…

From childhood to now, Sheng Yan only remembered two phone numbers—Madam Xu’s, and Qin Zigui’s.

Madam Xu was in the UK now. No chance of reaching her.

As for Qin Zigui…

He’d literally just been thinking about choking him to death. Calling him now for help, wasn’t that a bit unethical?

Sheng Yan glanced at the kind-looking cashier, then at the burly guy behind her frying chicken with a skimmer, and finally at the table full of food remnants. Just as he was about to struggle a bit more—

The cashier smiled sweetly and said, “Your total is 142. Washing dishes here pays 8 yuan an hour.”

Sheng Yan: “……”

Yeah, never mind.

Young Master was absolutely not washing dishes. Not in this lifetime.

So, left with no choice, Sheng Yan reluctantly took the phone and dialed the number he knew by heart. “Hello, Qin Zigui. It’s me.”

The person on the other end seemed to recognize his voice instantly and replied lazily, “Mm. What’s up?”

“Well, um…” Sheng Yan was still embarrassed. He lowered his head and tapped the glass counter, his voice muffled. “My phone’s with you. Zhu Peng and Gou You ran off. I’m alone at Big Face Chicken Cutlet right now. Could you come pick me up…?”

The more he spoke, the less confident and the more embarrassed he became.

After all, just three hours ago, he’d declared “Zigui is not a good bird” in front of all of Class One, and it had spread throughout the entire grade. He honestly wasn’t sure Qin Zigui would still come get him.

If roles were reversed, he definitely wouldn’t. He might even wish Qin Zigui would squat there washing dishes for three days and nights.

And Qin Zigui really did just give a lukewarm “Mm,” with no follow-up. He sounded cold clearly with no intention of coming to get him.

Obviously, he was still angry.

But Sheng Yan had nothing on him, not even anything he could leave as collateral. If Qin Zigui really didn’t come, he’d be stuck here washing dishes for 17.75 hours.

Humiliating aside, the real problem was he didn’t even know how to wash dishes.

As more and more people in the shop started casting strange looks at him, the line behind him grew longer, and the chicken-frying boss—twice his width shot him an impatient glare from the kitchen.

Sheng Yan realized that the time he had left was running out.

After a brief moment of weighing his options, he steeled his heart, clenched his teeth, and decided to use his ultimate trump card, the one that had never failed since childhood, the sure-fire move that could instantly calm Qin Zigui down and make him surrender without resistance.

Grinding his teeth, digging his nails into his palm, ears burning red, Sheng Yan quickly blurted out seven words that were guaranteed to work.

On the other end of the phone, however, it was as if the person had gone deaf. “What did you say? I didn’t hear that. Say it again.”

Something this humiliating—Sheng Dayan would rather die than say it a second time!

Sheng Yan was furious and mortified at the same time. He clenched his fists, bit down hard, his ears glowing red, then seething with indignation, gritting his teeth, enunciating every word, very obediently said seven words:

“Zigui gege, please.”

“Mm. Okay.”

The moment the words fell, a clear response sounded from behind him, followed by the unmistakable sound of the glass door being pushed open.

Sheng Yan instinctively turned around.

And there stood Qin Zigui, phone in hand, slowly pushing the door open. Meeting Sheng Yan’s gaze, he said calmly, without changing his expression:

“Zigui gege heard you.”