Volume 1 / Chapter 3: Class Monitor of Class 2, Grade 10
Amid the rhythmic knocking on the door came a crisp, no-nonsense female voice:Â âExcuse me, is this the Mo Xueyao residence?â
âMm⊠thatâs meâŠâ Mo Xueyao puzzledly opened the inner wooden door. This was separated from the iron gate by a short walkway, and through the gaps in the iron gate, she could see a girl wearing a short skirt.
The hem of the skirt was just above her knees, but she could still vaguely see a section of smooth, fair thigh.
Mo Xueyao's face flushed a little. She quickly averted her gaze and forced herself to look at the girl's face instead.
She had her hair in a somewhat high ponytail, with even her front bangs tied up, looking neat and efficient.
âYou areâŠ?â Mo Xueyao didnât remember knowing such a girl.
âAre you Mo Xueyao?â She pushed up the black-framed glasses sitting properly on her face and stared intently at Mo Xueyao.
âThatâs meâŠâ Mo Xueyao swallowed dryly, feeling that talking with her carried some inexplicable pressure.
Clearly they were the same age, yet it felt like facing the discipline teacher.
âIâm the class monitor of Grade 10, Class 2, Li Wanyan.â She pointed to herself in introduction.
âOh⊠the class monitor⊠nice to meet youâŠâ Mo Xueyao replied awkwardly, trying to smile as she pushed open the metal gate.
âThese are what the teacher asked me to bring you.â Li Wanyan said, handing over the paper bag she was carrying. âInside are the school uniforms, plus some exercise books that were distributed later, and some lined notebooks.â
âOh, thank you!â
âAre you feeling better?â Li Wanyanâs question made Mo Xueyao feel somewhat guilty.
However, she didnât seem to know exactly what illness Mo Xueyao had that required a monthâs leave.
âIâve recovered pretty much.â
âThen you should be able to return after the National Day holiday, right?â Li Wanyan brushed her bangs aside. âSchool resumes on October 8th, and classes will run for a full week straight.â
âMm⊠got it.â Mo Xueyao scratched her ear somewhat uncomfortably. âIs there⊠anything else?â
âStarting tomorrow, schoolâs officially on break.â Li Wanyan said, setting down her backpack. She unzipped it and pulled out five thick notebooks from inside.
âNot laptop computers, but writing notebooks.
âMmâŠ?â
âThese are my class notesâChinese, Math, English, Physics, and Chemistry. You can copy them using your textbooks for reference.â She handed the notebooks over as well. âThat way you wonât fall behind.â
âThank you so much.â Mo Xueyao was genuinely touched. She started feeling a faint bit of goodwill toward this stern, expressionless class monitor.
âMm, thatâs all. Make sure to wear your uniform when school starts. If the custom sizing is off. have your parents call the homeroom teacher for a replacement.â
âOkayâŠâ
âGoodbye.â Li Wanyan ended the conversation briskly, turned around, and left.
So straightforward it was somewhat hard to get used to.
Mo Xueyao stared at the bag of school supplies in her hands for a full minute before snapping out of it and returning to her bedroom.
The noon sunlight shone on her face. Like unwrapping presents, she somewhat impatiently took everything out of the paper bag.
Some extracurricular exercise books, some homework notebooks, and then two sets of school uniforms.
Probably summer versionsâmeant for alternating between washes.
But they looked somewhat strange.
âSeems kind of thin?â Mo Xueyao muttered to herself, tearing open the packaging and taking out the clothes inside. Her face instantly turned bright red, and as if electrocuted, she frantically threw the clothes on the bed.
This was completely a blue and white sailor uniform!
The bottom was a blue and white short skirt like Li Wanyanâs, and the top was a white short-sleeved shirt with blue stripes.
At first Mo Xueyao had wondered why students at Yukong High School could go to school without uniformsâturns out that WAS the uniform.
Compared to most public schools of this era, Yukong High School was extremely progressive.
If it had been the old her, she mightâve looked forward to seeing girls in short skirts at school every day.
But now⊠the one who had to wear the skirt⊠was her.
In fact, until now, Mo Xueyao had never worn girlsâ clothes.
She usually wore oversized T-shirts and sweatpantsâunisex, loose, and comfortable. Nothing with any obvious gender markers.
Truth be told, sheâd been avoiding the whole âfeminine clothingâ thing altogether.
As if keeping on boysâ clothes somehow let her stay a boy just a little longer.
But reality had a way of forcing her to face things she didnât want to deal with.
âAfter October 8th, Iâll have to wear this to schoolâŠâ Mo Xueyao sighed deeply, messing up her hair, but finally helplessly put the clothes away and casually threw them on the bed.
âLet's start copying the notebooksâŠâ Mo Xueyao sat down in her chair somewhat dejectedly, opening one of Li Wanyanâs notebooks. Neat rows of proper handwriting were arranged orderly, with layout that was simply clean and concise. Looking at her clear notes and comparing them with the textbooks felt like having attended a class with the teacher.
âTheyâre as detailed as textbook supplementsâŠâ Mo Xueyao sighed to herself, then began copying the content from the notebook.
Copying notes was part of the memorization process.
Thatâs why teachers always made students take notes in class. After all, writing it once beats reading it ten times.
Li Wanyanâs handwriting was large, elegant, and incredibly tidyâalmost like it came from a printer.
The spacing, the strokesâeven repeated characters looked identical.
She was practically a human typewriter.
In comparison, Mo Xueyaoâs handwriting⊠didnât quite measure up.
She liked using 0.35mm pens, and her characters came out tiny. Not in a âdelicate and cuteâ way, mind you. More like⊠dead mosquitoes smashed on a page.
From a distance, it looked like a bunch of dead mosquitoes on the notebook.
Sometimes the writing was so small that the strokes stuck together, to the point where even Mo Xueyao herself couldnât recognize them.
Even knowing that writing like this wasnât good, it was hard to change because she was already used to it.
Only consciously correcting it each time would be effective, but after a while, if she forgot to correct it, it would return to its original state.
Thatâs why she truly admired people like Li Wanyan who could write each character so precisely, stroke by stroke.
The copying process was somewhat tedious, but having not written properly for a long time, she actually found it quite interesting.
A chance to practice her handwriting, too. Which, incidentally, meant the handwriting on every few pages looked completely different.
None of them lasted long enough to become consistent.
âIf I keep smushing them together like this, I wonât even be able to read it myself,â she groaned, scratching her head. âOkayânew goal write cleaner, more spaced-out charactersâŠâ
Top students always had their own study tricks.
It wasnât just talent. They had a knack for turning study into fun.
Just like when walking and feeling bored, many people would deliberately step on lines, imagining they were playing a game where stepping outside the line meant game over.
And Mo Xueyao was now playing a game of persistently writing clear, clean handwriting.
With a goal in mind, time passed quickly.
In the blink of an eye, it was already 8 p.m.
âItâs so late⊠why havenât Mom and Dad come back?â Mo Xueyao grew a little anxious, turned on every light in the house, and paced at the doorway for a good whileâuntil finally, she heard the sound of tired footsteps approaching.
She excitedly opened the door and saw her father dragging his shoes at the entrance. When he saw her, he yawned widely.
âDad, whereâs Mom?â
âYour mom will be late today.â Her father smiled and handed her a plastic bag he was carrying. âWe wonât cook dinner tonightâthis is fried noodles I brought you.â
âMm⊠yeah!â Mo Xueyao, who was already famished, salivated upon hearing the words âfried noodlesâ and impatiently took the plastic bag from her father.
As she got close, she caught a strong whiff of sweat. Her dadâs shirt was wrinkled and dampâit looked like it had been soaked in sweat, dried in the sun, then re-soaked again.
Inside, he shook his head to loosen up. A few flakesâmaybe dandruff, maybe salt crystalsâfell from his hair. He glanced around and blinked in surprise.
âHuh, did you clean up in here?â
âYep! Big cleaning day. Looks good, right?â
âNot bad, not bad, truly my daughter.â Her father smiled with relief.
ââŠMm.â Mo Xueyao remained silent, sitting at the dining table in the living room and opening the fried noodle container to eat.
The fried noodles had quite abundant ingredientsâbesides eggs, there were also shredded meat, tenderloin, and sausage. Adding so many extra ingredients would cost at least double the price of ordinary fried noodles.
âHow is it? Tasty?â Her dad yanked off his shirt with a loud rriiiipâit honestly sounded like peeling tape off skin.
âYeah, itâs really good.â
âGood! As long as youâre happy.â
âDad, do you always have to go out this early for delivery work?â
âYeah, going out early, you can make several more trips in the morning. After all, itâs cooler in the morning, and they pay a bit more too.â He pulled out his tattered fake-leather wallet and fished out a worn green „50 bill, waving it proudly. âMade this today. Used the change to get you those noodles.â
âNo wonder youâre so generousâŠâ
âHaha, when have I ever shortchanged you?â Her father laughed heartily, but couldnât hide the fatigue in his eyes.
âYour teacher called today,â he added. âSaid theyâd be sending your uniform, books, and notebooks. They came, right?â
âThey cameâŠâ Mo Xueyao drooped her eyelids and muttered. âWhy are the girlsâ uniforms at Yukong High School skirtsâŠâ
âOh? Is that so?â Her dad looked surprised, then laughed. âIsnât that great?â
âWhatâs great about it?!â she rolled her eyes dramatically. Stuffing her mouth with noodles, she chewed furiouslyâlike she was biting back her fate.
Comments (0)
Please login or sign up to post a comment.