Chapter Eight: Excellence Is a Habit (Part Two)

The reason top students are called top students is not because their minds are exceptionally sharp, nor because they were born superior to others, but because they dedicate even their mealtime to studying. While others rest or play, these students quietly take out their books and learn. Xiao Lin used to be like this, and now Wang Yuqing is the same. Perhaps they also take breaks and enjoy themselves, but they have their own study routines; indeed, everyone's approach to learning is different. Of course, you can imitate a top student, provided you can be just as excellent as they are.

The first class in the morning was Chinese.

"Class, today we will study the poem 'Farewell to Cambridge,' written by the renowned modern poet Xu Zhimo. It's a representative work of the Crescent School, and I believe you're all quite familiar with it," the Chinese teacher asked with a benevolent smile.

"Gently I leave, just as I came gently. I wave my sleeve, not taking away a single cloud," Yuan Weiye recited, swaying his head as soon as the teacher finished speaking.

"Very good. Please, would you read it aloud for us?" said the Chinese teacher.

"Ah?" Yuan Weiye was stunned.

"Stand up, O great poet," Wang Tao chuckled.

Yuan Weiye saw the teacher looking at him and cursed himself inwardly for being too quick to speak. Now he was doomed to embarrassment.

He stood and, using his duck-like voice, read, "Gently I leave, just as I came gently; I wave my hand, bidding farewell to the western clouds."

Everyone felt as though a duck was quacking loudly right next to their ears, and in an instant, he turned this beautiful poem into something resembling a duck in heat.

The Chinese teacher frowned at Yuan Weiye, unable to tolerate his voice any longer.

"Alright, that's enough. Actually, you read it quite well, but let's give other students a chance," she said, stopping Yuan Weiye who was eager to continue, and spoke insincerely.

The classroom erupted in laughter.

"Alright, quiet down. Is there anyone who would like to volunteer to read?"

Wang Yuqing glanced back at Xiao Lin. Xiao Lin was not dozing today—why? Because of Yuan Weiye’s voice.

"Teacher, may I read?" Wang Yuqing raised her hand.

Tan Linlin beside her tugged at her sleeve and whispered, "Why bother? The teacher might not even call on you."

Wang Yuqing gave Tan Linlin a look, meaning "just watch me."

The teacher looked at the girl who had just transferred yesterday and nodded gently, "Let's have this young lady read for us. Um, what is your name?"

"Wang Yuqing," she replied sweetly.

"A lovely name—only after rain do we see clear skies," the teacher praised.

"That pool under the elm shade is not a clear spring, but a rainbow from the sky; scattered among the floating weeds, it settles like a dream tinted with colors."

Wang Yuqing stood up and began to read softly, her voice as melodious as a lark. The beautiful poem was brought to life in her recitation. She read gently, her lips slightly parted, her delicate head swaying with the rhythm. Her charming voice changed with the lines—sometimes graceful and lingering, sometimes tender and soft, sometimes crisp and bright, sometimes mournful and poignant.

Clear springs, flowing water, little bridges, green grass...

Everyone looked at the poised and elegant girl reciting, listening to her beautiful voice, and felt themselves drawn into the world of the poem, understanding the poet’s love for Cambridge, his longing for the past, and the helpless sorrow of departure.

"Gently I leave, just as I came gently. I wave my sleeve, not taking away a single cloud." Wang Yuqing finished the last line and stood quietly, a vision of poetry and painting.

Someone began to clap, and applause grew louder and louder, even the Chinese teacher couldn’t help but applaud.

Xiao Lin watched the girl standing there, his deep eyes turning as if thinking of something. After a long moment, he seemed to recall something and sighed quietly.

"You are the April of this world," Xiao Lin murmured.

"You are the April of this world" is a poem written by the talented Lin Huiyin in memory of Xu Zhimo after his death.

Back when Xiao Lin was at Donghai High School, he recited this poem over the school broadcast. He was then multifaceted, often appearing in artistic events. His recitation of "You are the April of this world" became a classic, winning the admiration of many girls, who wandered the campus with Lin Huiyin’s poetry collection, hoping for Xiao Lin’s attention.

Wang Yuqing was naturally fond of Xiao Lin’s recitation. She often practiced reading poetry, and her initiative to recite today was meant to remind Xiao Lin of those memories.

"Excellent, excellent, excellent!" the Chinese teacher praised three times.

"Wang Yuqing, right? I’ll recommend you for the school broadcast. Would you like to join?"

Wang Yuqing glanced back at Xiao Lin and saw him deep in thought. She knew her plan had worked.

"Yes, thank you, teacher. I’d love to," she replied with a sweet smile.

The teacher nodded in satisfaction, let Wang Yuqing sit down, and continued the lesson.

The second class was English.

"Now, let’s have someone recite the text at the podium. Who would like to volunteer?" the English teacher asked in English.

All the students lowered their heads. "Are you kidding? The English text is so long—who’d want to go up?"

Tan Linlin muttered under her breath, "Amen, amen, don’t pick me, don’t pick me."

Wang Yuqing laughed quietly at Tan Linlin’s anxious expression. "Is it really that bad?"

"Teacher, I’ll do it!" Wang Yuqing stood and spoke in English.

The whole class looked at her, puzzled by the enthusiasm of the new girl.

"Okay, come up then."

Wang Yuqing left her seat, empty-handed—she hadn’t even brought her textbook—and walked to the podium, reciting fluently in English.

After Wang Yuqing finished, the English teacher asked in surprise, "Did you study abroad? Your English is excellent!"

"No, I just practice reciting English in front of the mirror every day," Wang Yuqing replied.

"Why do you recite in front of the mirror?" Both students and the teacher were curious.

Xiao Lin thought to himself, "This way you can see if your mouth shapes are correct." He used to practice this way too.

"Teacher, this helps me check if my mouth shapes are right when I speak English," Wang Yuqing answered.

Everyone nodded in understanding.

Mathematics class.

"Who knows how to solve this equation?" the math teacher asked.

Lin Xudong stood up and explained his method.

"Your answer is correct, but it’s a bit complicated. Does anyone know a simpler solution?" the teacher continued.

Wang Yuqing raised her hand. "I know a method."

"Oh? Let’s hear it," the teacher said, not expecting anyone to know, since Lin Xudong had just described the textbook method.

Wang Yuqing walked to the blackboard, picked up the chalk, and wrote her solution.

Everyone watched with curiosity, including Xiao Lin, who gradually realized something and nodded slightly.

Soon, Wang Yuqing finished, and stepped down. The answer matched Lin Xudong’s, but her method was unfamiliar, leaving many students confused. The math teacher looked at her approvingly.

"Very good. This method is the reverse solution I planned to teach today."

As expected, Xiao Lin thought to himself. He used to solve math problems by searching for simpler ways. Wang Yuqing’s method was the one he often used.

He became more curious as he watched Wang Yuqing, thinking, "How is it that her approach so closely resembles my own?"