Finally, the class ended with Qi Yuanwen feeling rather frustrated.
Unlike the kind and patient Teacher Zhong, Teacher Ma was the type of instructor who "didn't care about the majority."
He went through everyone's test papers one by one, gauging each student's grasp of the material. He even accurately calculated how many students had answered each question correctly. And then…
He simply skipped over some of the most crucial problems without explaining them?
As a first-time student in Teacher Ma’s class, Ye Qianying was completely baffled by this unexpected turn of events.
She had gotten those questions right—after all, the knowledge they tested had mostly been highlighted as "key points" by Teacher Zhong during her previous lessons.
When she heard him say, "This question is very simple, but 23 of you still got it wrong, so I won’t bother explaining it," her mind was practically blown.
This was allowed?
The math competition class only had about forty students. With more than half of them unable to solve the problem, Teacher Ma just… decided not to cover it?
Good heavens, thank goodness Teacher Ma only taught the competition class.
Ye Qianying glanced around and noticed that most of her classmates wore expressions of resigned familiarity. They diligently copied the problems into their notebooks, probably planning to ask someone about them later.
As for Dou Xinran, sitting to her right…
He blended into the crowd like a grain of sand in a desert, seemingly scribbling notes along with everyone else. But in reality—
Even with an aisle separating them, Ye Qianying could easily tell that he was actually finishing a math assignment he’d taken on as a side gig from a classmate in the back row.
Balancing studies and business without missing a beat—impressive, Dou Xinran.
Teacher Ma spent the remaining half of the class going over the entire test paper. And through this one lesson, Ye Qianying gradually began to understand his teaching style.
If Teacher Zhong was the orthodox martial artist of the Central Plains, then Teacher Ma was more like a disciple of the Tang Sect—still a prestigious school, but with a hint of unorthodox methods. Unlike Teacher Zhong’s steady, by-the-book approach, Teacher Ma preferred efficiency, opting for whichever solution worked best, no matter how unconventional.
When Teacher Ma assigned the night’s homework, the sheer volume of it only reinforced Ye Qianying’s impression.
—Definitely the Tang Sect. A noble swordsman wouldn’t need to carry so many hidden weapons!
Unaware that he had just been promoted to sect leader in Ye Qianying’s mind, Teacher Ma busied himself with rearranging his lecture notes in perfect order, lining up the chalk in the box from tallest to shortest, and adjusting his two wristwatches so they sat precisely on his wrists.
Once everything was in place, the entire podium seemed to brighten, and Teacher Ma’s expression visibly relaxed compared to when he first entered the classroom.
But when his gaze returned to the students below, his face immediately fell.
With his sparse middle-parted hair, neat formal attire, and oversized backpack, Teacher Ma now looked as pitiful as an insurance salesman who had just failed to close a deal.
He announced the end of class in a weary voice.
"Before you leave, clean out your desks, push your chairs in, and make sure the tables are aligned," Teacher Ma muttered listlessly.
Ye Qianying pulled open her desk drawer and found a few crumpled balls of paper inside—likely left behind by the previous occupant.
Without much thought, she gathered the discarded scratch paper in her hand. Just as she was about to maneuver her wheelchair out from between the desks, she felt someone grasp the handles from behind.
"?"
She looked up in confusion, meeting Dou Xinran’s sharp, solemn features.
Her new deskmate’s lips were pressed into a straight line, his expression as serious as when they first met. But his movements were gentle and controlled.
With practiced ease, Dou Xinran turned the wheelchair around, pulling Ye Qianying free from the rows of desks and wheeling her out into the hallway, positioning her facing the elevator at the far end.
Once that was done, he casually plucked the crumpled paper from her hand and tossed it into the trash along with the garbage from his own desk.
Ye Qianying blinked slowly.
Dou Xinran probably assumed her wheelchair couldn’t turn easily, so he’d stepped in to help.
But that wasn’t the case.
Her wheelchair had been custom-made in Germany, costing around 400,000 yuan. Rotating in place was just one of its most basic functions. If she wanted, she could eat, sleep, and even defend herself with its built-in electric shock feature—all without leaving the seat.
Still, she appreciated his kindness.
"Thanks," Ye Qianying said, pausing before adding tentatively, "Um… is there a charge?"
The corner of Dou Xinran’s mouth twitched upward before quickly smoothing back into neutrality—the first hint of a smile since they’d met. It vanished as quickly as a fleeting shadow, almost making her wonder if she’d imagined it.
"No charge. Helping each other out as desk partners—it’s free."
With a slight nod, Dou Xinran stepped past her and waded back into the stream of students leaving class. He returned to the room, retrieved her chair from the corner, and pushed it neatly under the desk as Teacher Ma had instructed.
The desk aligned perfectly with the floor’s gridlines, matching the rows in front and behind so precisely that even Teacher Ma’s obsessive-compulsive scrutiny wouldn’t find a single flaw.
Once finished, Dou Xinran raised a hand toward Ye Qianying, who had lingered by the window. "All set."
When he stepped back into the hallway and saw her still waiting, a flicker of surprise crossed his face. He tentatively placed his hands back on her wheelchair handles. "Need a push?"
"No, it moves on its own," Ye Qianying said, demonstrating with a quick start. "I was waiting for you—let’s head back together."
Dou Xinran didn’t question it. He walked alongside her wheelchair for a few steps before suddenly feeling a sharp gaze drilling into his back.
Without breaking stride, he glanced over his shoulder and saw Qi Yuanwen standing in the middle of the hallway, backlit by the light. Though Dou Xinran couldn’t make out his expression, he could sense the other boy’s complicated emotions.
"…"
In that instant, a realization struck Dou Xinran like a flash of lightning.
He looked down at Ye Qianying. "You waited for me on purpose… is it because—?"
"Hm?" Ye Qianying, lost in her own thoughts, hadn’t quite caught his question.
"Did you change your mind after seeing the amount of homework Teacher Ma assigned?" Dou Xinran graciously offered an even bigger discount. "I mentioned earlier that you'd get a 20% discount as my deskmate, and that still stands. Since it's opening day, I can give you 30% off—which subject’s homework do you want to order? Anything except Teacher Ma’s competition assignments."
Ye Qianying: "..."
Ye Qianying replied expressionlessly, "Thanks, but I still don’t—"
Dou Xinran sighed, his tone mirroring the earnest sincerity of every shrewd merchant in Ye Qianying’s family.
"Thirty percent off is the lowest I can go. Any less, and I’d be losing money."
Ye Qianying: "..."
Wait, you’re running a business with zero overhead—how could you possibly lose money?
Well, I’ve seen it all now.
That night, Ye Qianying brought Teacher Ma’s homework into the study space, where Teacher Zhong noticed it during their tutoring session.
Flipping through the papers, Teacher Zhong nodded repeatedly. "Is this your new teacher? His problem-writing approach is quite intriguing."
Noticing Ye Qianying’s puzzled look, Teacher Zhong smiled kindly and picked up a pen to demonstrate.
"You can tell he’s holding back to accommodate your current knowledge level." As he spoke, he added a few extra lines to the geometry problem and supplemented three more conditions, transforming it into an entirely new question in the blink of an eye.
He slid the modified problem toward Ye Qianying. "Try solving this now."
Ye Qianying picked up her pen, then set it back down.
Even without attempting it, she could tell—Teacher Zhong’s adjustments had elevated the difficulty by more than a few notches.
Teacher Zhong didn’t rush her. With an understanding smile, he adjusted his thick glasses on the bridge of his nose.
"Well? Can you feel how much harder it’s become?"
Ye Qianying nodded in genuine admiration.
"That’s to be expected. If I had to guess, this is closer to your new teacher’s original vision for the problem. He’s already being considerate of your level—this version isn’t just for preliminary competitions; it could easily be used in the Winter Camp exams."
Pausing thoughtfully, Teacher Zhong added, "I won’t assign you any extra homework today. Just give this modified problem a try tonight, alright? No pressure if you can’t solve it—I’ll explain it next time."
Hearing this, Ye Qianying felt a spark of excitement.
Winter Camp exam difficulty?
Wasn’t that the threshold for the National Training Team?
For context, the high school math competition, also known as the National High School Mathematics League, consisted of preliminary and final rounds.
For many students aiming only for 985 university admissions perks, winning a provincial first prize was enough. But for the CMO (Chinese Mathematical Olympiad, or Winter Camp), a provincial first prize was just the bare minimum.
The top 30 scorers in the Winter Camp would form that year’s National Training Team. And to qualify for the International Mathematical Olympiad (IMO), they’d have to be the best of the best—only six would make the final cut.
The mere thought of the IMO made Ye Qianying’s palms grow warm.
Just as every scholar feels a surge of noble ambition upon reading the "Four Sentences of Hengqu" (To ordain conscience for Heaven and Earth, to secure life and fortune for the people, to continue lost teachings for past sages, to establish peace for all future generations), any competition math student would inevitably regard the IMO as sacred ground.
Even without Teacher Zhong’s encouragement, she would’ve tackled this problem tonight.
Teacher Zhong knew his student well. Seeing Ye Qianying quietly tuck the problem away, he recognized it as a sign of her competitive spirit flaring up.
Competitiveness was good. Teacher Zhong smiled to himself. Young people should have fire in them—ambition is what makes them young.
In his eyes, this student was exceptional—sharp-witted, incredibly disciplined, and among the most talented he’d ever taught. But her personality was a bit too composed and reserved, lacking the fearless boldness typical of youth.
Still, if she loved math, that boldness would emerge sooner or later.
With a self-satisfied grin, Teacher Zhong unscrewed his thermos and took a sip of chrysanthemum-goji tea. "If you solve it tonight, you could show it to your problem-writing teacher. See if this was his original intent."
Then, with a playful wink, he added, "How about a bet? Three problems of this difficulty. If I lose, I’ll teach you one of my secret problem-solving methods tomorrow."
Pausing, he chuckled slyly. "But if you can’t crack it tonight, the bet’s off."
