Chapter Ten: Assistance

Zhang Wenhao returned to his classroom. It was still a while before the first afternoon class began. Just as he took his seat, the beautiful teacher, Song Yanni, approached, her face lit with joy as she called him outside.

Earlier in the office, Zhang Wenhao's performance had left Song Yanni utterly astonished. Though she had already been inclined to believe he hadn’t cheated, she never expected him to possess such remarkable memory and comprehension. Chinese, math, and humanities posed no challenge for him; the only weakness was English. And as fate would have it, Song Yanni was slated to be his English teacher next semester.

She had expected to inherit a class of struggling students that would give her endless headaches, but fate had handed her a treasure. With Zhang Wenhao in her class, if she could help him improve his English, he might even seize the city’s top score in the college entrance exam.

Song Yanni led Zhang Wenhao to the office just as the bell rang for class. Most teachers gathered their textbooks and lesson plans to head to their classrooms, while a few without classes stayed behind to mark assignments and prepare for teaching.

“Zhang Wenhao,” Song Yanni said, seating him across from her, “I’ve noticed English seems to be your weak point. Have you ever analyzed where the problem lies?”

Zhang Wenhao answered honestly, “I’m still confused about speaking, listening, and grammar usage. These are hard to grasp just by reading books, which is why my grades haven’t improved.”

Song Yanni nodded. “You have strong skills in every other subject, but your English is lagging far behind. If you have time, I’d like to tutor you on weekends. With your memory and comprehension, starting from the basics, I believe you’ll master it quickly. What do you think?”

Zhang Wenhao thought to himself, who wouldn’t want more chances to spend time with a beautiful woman? Song Yanni was mature, sexy, and stylish—a true goddess whose allure was irresistible. Without much hesitation, he replied, “If you’re willing to help me with English, that would be wonderful.”

Song Yanni smiled. “Great. Leave your phone number with me, and I’ll call you on the weekend.”

Leaving the office, Zhang Wenhao felt elated. He had no idea that, as he hummed his way back to Class Twenty-One, teachers in every classroom, instead of beginning their lessons, recounted the remarkable events that had just unfolded in the office to their students.

Most teachers portrayed Zhang Wenhao as a prodigy with an extraordinary memory. Even in Class Three, where the math teacher held him in high regard—albeit with a hint of regret—he lamented that such a genius, the only student to score full marks in the mock exam, had transferred to Class Twenty-One and was no longer under his tutelage.

Within the newly formed Class Twenty-One, Zhang Wenhao’s reputation soared. Most students felt embarrassed to be placed in a remedial class and couldn’t hold their heads high among their peers. But now, when questioned, they could proudly mention Zhang Wenhao—what, you think our class isn’t good enough? Take a look at Zhang Wenhao! He’s a genius admired by almost every teacher.

Zhang Wenhao asked Song Yanni for leave, skipping evening self-study. Song Yanni didn’t care about that at all; her mind was consumed with finding ways to boost his English grades.

After the third afternoon class, Zhang Wenhao packed his things and was about to leave when Su Ruoran suddenly appeared at the classroom door. Her arrival sent a wave of excitement through more than eighty percent of the male students. No one knew why Su Ruoran had come; Class Three was on the second floor, and she would never come here without a reason.

“Zhang Wenhao,” Su Ruoran called as he stepped out with his backpack. “I’d like to talk to you. Do you have a moment?”

Zhang Wenhao hadn’t expected Su Ruoran to seek him out. He felt a little nervous but kept a calm face. “I do. What’s the matter?”

“Let’s talk outside.”

Su Ruoran and Zhang Wenhao left the teaching building together. She turned to him, “You’re carrying your backpack. Are you heading home?”

Zhang Wenhao nodded, “I’ve taken leave from evening study. I have something to do at home.”

Su Ruoran smiled gently, “I remember you usually ride a bicycle. Let’s walk toward the bike shed and talk along the way.”

“Alright.”

Since there was only an hour and a half between the last class and evening self-study, most students ate dinner in the school cafeteria rather than going home. Only those who lived nearby went home for dinner, and few of them rode bikes, so the path to the bike shed was nearly empty.

“Zhang Wenhao,” Su Ruoran said suddenly, “I think you should return to Class Three. Class Twenty-One is newly formed, and most students there are struggling. While I don’t look down on students with poor grades, many teachers do, and they may not teach with much dedication. In Class Twenty-One, you’re likely to be affected. If you stay in Class Three, you’ll have a better learning environment, which would be good for you.”

Zhang Wenhao knew Su Ruoran was the class monitor. Her request for him to return was undoubtedly out of responsibility, and he felt grateful. Yet he shook his head, “There’s no need for me to return. My relationship with Teacher Ma is quite strained, and frankly, I dislike him. With him around, I find it hard to concentrate.”

Su Ruoran explained, “Teacher Ma only doubted the authenticity of your grades before, but now it’s clear there’s nothing false about your results. He won’t treat you as he did before.”

“No need,” Zhang Wenhao replied with a smile. “Thank you for your kindness, but with only four months left, I’d rather stay in Class Twenty-One. It’s more comfortable.”

Su Ruoran sighed, “I understand how you feel. If you really don’t want to come back, that’s fine. But I hope you’ll work hard in Class Twenty-One and aim for an even better score in the college entrance exam.”

“I’ll do my best,” Zhang Wenhao nodded gently.

“Oh, right.” Su Ruoran pulled a small USB drive from the pocket of her white down jacket and handed it to Zhang Wenhao. “This contains some English study materials I use. I went home at noon and thought to copy them for you. Your English is lagging behind, so you need to work harder. In addition to key resources for the high school English exam, there are advanced TOEFL and IELTS tutorials by top foreign teachers, which are very helpful for speaking and listening. My aunt got these internal materials, so keep them for yourself and don’t upload them online, or she’ll scold me.”

Zhang Wenhao was genuinely moved. He hardly interacted with Su Ruoran and rarely spoke to her, yet after the grades came out this morning, she went home and copied study materials for him. It showed she not only cared sincerely but had no doubts about his abilities.

Thanking her, Zhang Wenhao took the USB drive. “Monitor, I’ll copy the files to my computer at home and return the USB to you tomorrow.”

“No worries,” Su Ruoran smiled. “Consider it a gift.”

She added, “I’ve taken up so much of your time. Go get your bike, I’m heading to the cafeteria.”

The bike shed was south of the teaching building, and the cafeteria was several hundred meters away to the northwest. Zhang Wenhao said, “Wait a moment, monitor.”

He ran to the shed, wheeled out his bicycle, and seeing Su Ruoran still waiting, he smiled, “Let me give you a ride.”

Su Ruoran was startled, quickly waved her hands, “No, no, I can walk. You should hurry home.”

“It’s fine,” Zhang Wenhao said. “It only takes a minute or two by bike.”

Su Ruoran pressed her lips together, then nodded, a little shy as she sat sideways on the rear seat. Zhang Wenhao mounted the bike and pedaled slowly away.

He’d forgotten how much influence Su Ruoran had at school. In just over a minute, he brought her to the cafeteria door, but his action had already stirred up a storm among the students.

Su Ruoran got off the bike, smiled faintly, “I’m here. Hurry home, and take care.”

Zhang Wenhao nodded, “Goodbye, monitor.” He waved and rode away.

But behind him, a pair of cold, venomous eyes full of resentment were fixed on his back, fists clenched tightly.

That person was Chen Chong, the Class Three Chinese subject representative.