Chapter 81

*Campus IF Line — “Confession”*
Monday’s flag-raising ceremony proceeded as usual. After it ended, Director Qiu announced the disciplinary notices for Chen Qiao of Class Seven and Tang Minmin of Class One.
Director Qiu said: “Classmates Chen Qiao and Tang Minmin used improper means to falsely accuse a classmate, causing damage to that classmate’s reputation. Their conduct is extremely vile. We must take this as a warning and reflect. After unanimous consultation between the grade-level academic affairs group and the Discipline Office, we have decided to give Chen Qiao and Tang Minmin a severe warning and a major demerit, and to revoke their eligibility for future evaluations, ratings, and ‘Outstanding Communist Youth League Member.’”
As soon as he finished speaking, an uproar erupted below. This was the harshest punishment the school had issued since the start of the term.
A major demerit would be recorded in the file. The impact was not limited to these three years of high school—future life could be affected as well.
But no one sympathized with the instigators. If today’s matter hadn’t been cleared up, then the wronged party would have been another innocent girl.
At Jingcheng No. 1 High, the academic atmosphere was strong. Even Class Seven—the “bottom” class—was striving upward, working hard to catch up.
What they did broke the long-maintained balance at No. 1 High and brought an extremely negative influence to other students.
So even before the flag-raising ceremony began, Tang Minmin had already been called to the office by the homeroom teacher for a private talk.
When she came out, her eyes were red-rimmed, and even her right cheek was badly swollen. She lay facedown on her desk and cried the whole time.
Liu Chengcheng said, “I heard the homeroom teacher contacted her parents. Her parents came to school this morning. When the class monitor went to the office to hand in homework, he happened to see them. Guess what?”
Qin Sang asked, puzzled, “What?”
Liu Chengcheng deliberately lowered her voice. “Hasn’t Tang Minmin always said her family is rich, that her parents run a chain supermarket, so they live really well? But today when the class monitor saw her parents, he learned it’s not like what she said at all. Her parents also came from the countryside to work in Jingcheng. Her dad works construction, and her mom does cleaning.”
“And that iPhone of hers wasn’t even hers.”
“Her mom cleans for a wealthy family. She tutored that family’s kid. After only two days, she stole the lady of the house’s phone. That family almost called the police. In the end it was her mom who apologized—kneeling and paying money—before they managed to suppress it.”
“How should I put it…” Liu Chengcheng couldn’t understand. “I don’t get why she’s so vain. She thought her old phone was outdated and forced her parents to buy one. They couldn’t afford it, so she got greedy and stole someone else’s to use. Raising a daughter like that—her parents are really pitiful.”
Qin Sang stayed silent.
Only after coming to No. 1 High did she realize she didn’t fit in here. Jingcheng No. 1 High had excellent teachers, and almost every student’s family conditions were very good. It gave a feeling of… not understanding human hardship.
In her first half month at No. 1 High, she had felt lost. She’d even felt sad because of the class’s inexplicable exclusion of “outsiders,” and had grown timid, wanting to retreat.
But she wouldn’t feel inferior just because her family circumstances were not as good as others’. Qin Dahai also started as a construction worker. He relied on his own hands to support their small family.
So she never felt that poverty was shameful.
“I bet Tang Minmin is really going to be transferred to a regular class this time.”
Liu Chengcheng shrugged. “It’s just pitiful her parents got dragged down with her—at their age they still have to be scared and anxious, lowering themselves at school to clean up her mess.”
Qin Sang thought for a moment. “There’s no way around it. Everyone has to pay the price for their mistakes.”
…
So Director Qiu didn’t just punish Chen Qiao and Tang Minmin severely—he also gave those who’d been dragged in a lesson. After announcing the handling notice for the two girls, he called Teng Wenbiao and Xie Yuncheng up to the stage one after the other.
The students below immediately began to whisper. Some who hadn’t figured out what happened even asked in confusion, “Why is God Xie going up again?”
“You still don’t know? Last week Teng Wenbiao gathered a crowd to cause trouble under the girls’ dorm building. God Xie seems to have clashed with Teng Wenbiao to protect a girl, and then he got caught red-handed by Director Qiu the skinflint.”
“Who? Which girl?”
The crowd was noisy. At first it was only small-scale discussion. But when Teng Wenbiao and Xie Yuncheng really did go up to the stage one after another, the talk grew louder.
Standing in the formation, Qin Sang could feel measuring looks thrown from all directions, thick with curiosity.
Some students from neighboring Class Two and Class Three were even eating the “melon” and secretly asking the people from Class One about it.
“Why is God Xie protecting that girl? What’s their relationship?”
“They’re not secretly… dating, are they?”
Unfortunately, Class One was a bunch of straight-A students focused on studying. They didn’t see anything strange at all. When Class Two came to ask, the top students thought it was normal—and even felt their speculation was simply absurd.
“What’s strange about that? Our God Xie has a strong sense of class honor to begin with. Besides, if girls in your class were harassed by boys from another class, would you be willing to be a coward and not stand up for your classmate?”
“Stop gossiping and chatting. You’re sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong. If you have time to guess this nonsense, you’d better worry about your precarious grade ranking.”
The Class Two students were left speechless. Who told Class One to have such hard power—grades that crushed them?
The students who came to watch the drama not only lost face, they got choked badly.
The top students of Class One firmly believed that between Xie Yuncheng and Qin Sang there was only pure classmate affection—simple revolutionary friendship.
They didn’t even think being required to write a self-criticism was a punishment. Instead, they felt proud of it.
After Teng Wenbiao awkwardly finished reading his self-criticism, someone below—no one knew who—started to heckle first.
“God Xie is badass!”
“God Xie is incredible!”
“God Xie is so handsome!”
Cheering calls rose one after another. The originally sparse applause suddenly became unified, rumbling like thunder.
Even Liu Chengcheng couldn’t help snickering. “This is the first time I’ve seen someone read a self-criticism with the vibe of accepting an award. Look—”
“Director Qiu’s face is green.”
Qin Sang said nothing. She secretly looked up. Director Qiu really was furious.
After all, this had been a crowd disturbance. Coming up to read a self-criticism wasn’t exactly glorious. With this kind of noise, it made it look like it was something honorable.
Director Qiu raised the megaphone and shouted, “What are you yelling about? What are you yelling about? I want to see which class is still making a racket! I’ll catch you together in a minute!”
“Do you think causing trouble at school is glorious? I called them up here to reflect on their mistakes in front of the whole school, so you can take it as a warning—not so you can clap and praise him!”
Even though Director Qiu repeatedly emphasized how vile the impact of this incident was, he couldn’t stop the students below from ignoring him.
The ones who had watched last week’s after-school basketball game were even more fired up.
Teng Wenbiao was a basketball specialty student. Not only did Xie Yuncheng not fear him, he faced him head-on. What’s more, even under Teng Wenbiao’s dirty, low tricks, he still turned the tide and won—this was practically legend!
After this incident fermented, the boys in the same grade admired Xie Yuncheng even more. The girls felt that Xie Yuncheng standing up to protect a girl in his class showed responsibility.
After all, people used to chase after Xie Yuncheng mostly because he was good-looking and his grades stood head and shoulders above the rest. But a “study god” was still a “study god,” like a flower on a high peak—something to admire from afar, not to profane.
In the past, everyone only felt Xie Yuncheng was cold and hard to get along with. But after this battle, people suddenly discovered he was actually outwardly cold but inwardly warm—a quiet flirt.
When Qin Sang first heard that description from Liu Chengcheng, she’d been quite embarrassed. A quiet flirt? She didn’t know what expression he would have if he heard that.
Just imagining it a little made her feel it was honestly funny. So she didn’t hold back—she really did lower her head and laugh softly.
Director Qiu probably wanted to purge the “atmosphere,” and he really did have today’s discipline monitors start catching people. Whoever was heckling would have three points deducted, and after the ceremony they’d have to run ten laps around the track.
Their school track was about 400 meters per lap. Three laps meant 4,000 meters.
Deducting class points wasn’t a big deal, but being caught and forced to run—no one could endure that.
The management method was rough and direct, but extremely effective. At least now no one was shouting nonsense under the stage.
On stage, Xie Yuncheng should have properly read the self-criticism by the book.
But he only glanced at it, then crumpled the paper into a ball and casually stuffed it into his uniform pocket.
The boy stood lazily, even his voice carrying a careless, languid indifference. “I don’t think my behavior was a mistake. But I admit I did violate the school rules. And I also admit—”
He paused for a moment, his gaze calm as it swept over the sea of people below. When his eyes passed over that thin figure, a trace of sleepy laughter flashed in them.
He confessed frankly: “My motives… were indeed not pure.”
At first the stage area was deathly silent. Then it exploded with intense cheers.
Even Director Qiu was startled by Xie Yuncheng. He urgently called for a stop, but this time, no matter how he warned them, he couldn’t calm that restless heat down.
This was the unique passion and vigor of teenagers.
In this special era where even two ordinary opposite-sex classmates standing a little too close could be dragged off by teachers for “ideological education,” someone actually dared to bare his heart so directly.
Liu Chengcheng couldn’t hold back and screamed. She grabbed Qin Sang’s arm and shook it hard. “Sang-sang! Did I hear wrong? Or did I misunderstand? Is God Xie… is he confessing to you?!”
Qin Sang stood blankly in the vast crowd, looking up at the person on stage. He seemed to have noticed her gaze—or perhaps he had never moved his eyes away from her at all.
He was looking at her. The emotions in his eyes were plain as day. An unnamed feeling surged in a sea full of hidden reefs, rolling and rolling, unceasing.
So that’s what it meant—what he’d said then: that he felt guilty.
In this muddled autumn day, she felt the warmth of full spring.
Qin Sang was inexplicably dazed, as if she had been walking alone across a boundless wilderness for years, and then one day, spring arrived from far away.
The boy’s vigorous love had nowhere to hide under the autumn morning sun. When early spring came the next year, it would quietly bloom in her heart.
He was arrogant and domineering yet also especially sincere and blazing. Those clear eyes seemed to hold endless love, as if every second was saying: I like you.
The corner of his lips lifted slightly. His usually cool brows and eyes were gentle.
“Classmate Qin,” he said. “I’ll be waiting for you in the future.”