Chapter 24: Fight On, Xiao Lin (Part Two)

Third floor of the boys’ dormitory, bed in Room 302. At four in the morning, while most were still deep in slumber, Xiao Lin had already risen quietly.

“Doctor, time to get up,” Xiao Lin gently shook Lin Xudong, who was still lost in sleep.

Lin Xudong opened his blurry eyes, rubbed them with his hand, and was startled to see Xiao Lin standing beside his bed. He sprang upright.

“Did I oversleep? What time is it?”

Xiao Lin, amused by Lin Xudong’s startled expression, laughed softly. “No, it’s just four o’clock.”

“Ah, Xiao Lin, why are you up so early? Wasn’t it supposed to be four ten when I get up and then wake you?” Lin Xudong checked his watch, confirming the time, still puzzled.

“From now on, new rule. Four o’clock sharp. I’ll be waking you up from now on. Come on, I’m off to wash up first.” With that, Xiao Lin grabbed his toothpaste and toothbrush and stepped out of the dorm.

“What’s going on…” Lin Xudong muttered to himself, getting up to dress.

Moments later, both had finished washing up. As usual, they headed to the sports field. But today, Lin Xudong noticed something unusual: Xiao Lin was carrying a book of classical poetry.

At the field, Xiao Lin began his run as usual, while Lin Xudong recited his language lessons. But before Lin Xudong could finish reciting a single passage, Xiao Lin had already returned to his side.

“Not running today?” Lin Xudong asked, surprised to see Xiao Lin sitting down on the track.

“Ran two laps. That’s enough. Now, time for poetry recitation,” Xiao Lin replied.

“What?” Lin Xudong wondered if he’d misheard, moving closer to Xiao Lin.

“I said poetry recitation. Honestly, your ears are getting worse,” Xiao Lin rolled his eyes at Lin Xudong.

“‘We cannot see the true face of Mount Lu, for we are within the mountain itself…’”

Lin Xudong watched Xiao Lin, sitting upright and reciting poetry in earnest. His gaze was curious, as if observing a rare creature. He couldn’t understand what Xiao Lin was up to: the perennial underachiever, always dreading classical poetry, was now voluntarily reciting it, and with genuine effort. Suddenly, Lin Xudong remembered the wager, and understanding dawned. He thought to himself, “If reciting poetry could boost your score by over a hundred points, everyone would be admitted to Tsinghua or Peking University. Let’s see how many days you can stick to it.” But he wouldn’t say it aloud; Xiao Lin had finally decided to take studying seriously, and Lin Xudong wouldn’t dampen his enthusiasm.

At noon, during the lunch break, the entire Class One was sprawled out asleep, save for a few stubborn souls still clinging to their studies, though even they seemed on the verge of collapse. For seniors, sleep was a luxury, yet the diligent often made time for rest—only with a refreshed mind could one study better. The slackers, of course, were just looking for an excuse. But the nap was short, just half an hour.

In the corner of Class One’s classroom, two people remained awake: Xiao Lin and Wang Yuqing. It’s said that a focused boy is the most handsome. Xiao Lin, gripping a ballpoint pen, was absorbed in a mathematics test paper, his expression calm and serious, eyes fixed like pillars on the page, occasionally humming quietly, murmuring under his breath. Even Wang Yuqing, seated beside him, couldn’t catch what he was whispering.

Wang Yuqing, meanwhile, propped her rounded chin in her hand, gazing at Xiao Lin with adorable fascination. Her beautiful eyes didn’t blink, sparkling with admiration. Unfortunately, Xiao Lin was so engrossed he failed to notice Wang Yuqing watching him, believing she too was working on her test paper.

Suddenly, Wang Yuqing noticed Xiao Lin frowning, apparently stumped by a tricky problem. She leaned in and saw it was a trigonometric application question. This one was indeed difficult; Xiao Lin had a foundation for most of the other questions, but since entering high school, he’d never paid attention to functions, and without careful study, such problems were hard to solve.

“What’s wrong? Want me to explain it?” Wang Yuqing saw Xiao Lin’s troubled face and couldn’t help but offer.

“Ah, no need. I can handle it myself.” Xiao Lin turned his head, only to find Wang Yuqing’s face nearly touching his, so close he could even smell the fragrance of her shampoo.

Wang Yuqing realized she was too close, quickly withdrew, “Forget it, I’m taking a nap now,” she said shyly, burying her head in her arms.

Xiao Lin watched Wang Yuqing, her head tucked down like a camel, the flush on her ears betraying her feelings. His frustration with the math problem eased considerably. It wasn’t that he refused her help—Xiao Lin had his own pride. You could check his homework, but he wouldn’t let you teach him how to solve a problem. He relished the challenge of figuring things out himself, disliked being told what to do. You could point out his mistakes; if he agreed with your solution, he might follow it, but if he believed he was right, no amount of persuasion would change his mind. That was Xiao Lin’s principle—he never compromised easily.

Rubbing his tired eyes, shaking out his hair, Xiao Lin gathered his spirit and began tackling the math problem anew.

Time ticked by, and the last few students clinging to their studies gradually succumbed to sleep, their heads resting on their desks. Even Lin Xudong was deep in dreams. Yet Xiao Lin remained, still wrestling with the difficult question, his furrowed brow and the scratch of his pen across the draft paper the only signs he hadn’t solved it yet.

As gentle music played, the lunch break ended. The broadcast chimed, “Dear students, please wake up; the afternoon battle is about to begin…”

Xiao Lin exhaled a long breath, his handsome face breaking into a relaxed smile—he’d finally solved it. Xiao Lin loved this feeling; it reminded him of his spirited youth.

Meanwhile, still not fully awake, Wang Yuqing murmured in her sleep, “Xiao Lin.”

“Hm? What is it?” Xiao Lin turned to ask, but soon realized the ethereal girl was still dreaming, her beautiful eyes closed, long brows gently trembling, flawless face adorned with a sweet smile and two adorable dimples. Wang Yuqing mumbled Xiao Lin’s name again.

Watching this girl, elegant even in sleep, hearing her softly call his name, Xiao Lin smiled and shook his head. Who knows what she was dreaming—perhaps of him. Stretching comfortably, he decided to step outside to wash his face. As he stood, he inadvertently noticed a red string around Wang Yuqing’s delicate neck, a silver trinket peeking out, evoking a familiar feeling. He tried to look closer, but could only catch a glimpse; he had no idea what it was. Staring too long wasn’t proper, so Xiao Lin looked away, making a mental note to ask her about it another time. Then he got up to wash his face.