LMBYE 3
Do all you gay guys talk in such a soft voice?"
The First High School Forum was basically just a place for students to hang out. The teachers were usually too busy to care about it.
So, when Wang Yecheng saw Ning Ci being assigned near his "sworn enemy" yet showing no complaints at all—looking just like an easy-to-bully pushover—he became even more dismissive of him. After all, he was the teacher. No matter what kind of background a student had, as long as he had a justifiable reason to scold them, no one could do anything about it.
But from the way Ning Ci silently left and didn’t even acknowledge his teacher, it was clear he was just like the rest of the Class Eight troublemakers—disrespectful and unwilling to show gratitude. There was no way he’d ever willingly offer gifts to his teacher. And on top of that, his grades were terrible…
Thinking about all this, Wang Yecheng got even angrier.
First Experimental High School had strong faculty and even had a Teaching and Learning Foundation that awarded generous bonuses to teachers who produced top university candidates. That was why Wang Yecheng was so desperate to teach the Rocket Class—it had the highest acceptance rate for elite universities, followed by the Experimental Class, and lastly, the Regular Class. Class Eight was the lowest-ranked regular class, mostly full of wealthy kids who refused to be disciplined.
To him, these students were nothing more than spoiled rich kids wasting society’s resources. But the students in Class Eight looked down on him just as much. Ever since he started teaching them, he hadn’t received a single gift. To Wang Yecheng, that meant they were all ungrateful brats.
And now, another ungrateful one had joined the class. Just thinking about it made Wang Yecheng feel like his career was doomed.
Taking the chance to assert his authority, he tapped the desk twice, silencing the whispers.
"We're studying spatial geometry in this chapter. I already told you last class that everyone must bring a full set of drawing tools. Now, take them out and put them on your desks. I’m going to check. They must be standard tools. If anyone tries to use a meal card, bus card, or some broken ruler to draw straight lines, it won’t count!"
The students started rummaging through their bags, but in the midst of the commotion, Ning Ci frowned slightly. He had only just received his textbooks—how could he have a complete set of drawing tools already?
What’s worse, Wang Yecheng started his inspection right from Ning Ci’s row, clearly aiming to make an example out of him.
Zhang Yang, sitting beside him, looked on gleefully, eager to watch his new deskmate suffer. Even Tang Yuan, who had a grudge against Ning Ci, felt a little uneasy. He didn’t want to see a pretty face get scolded, so he hesitated and glanced at Lou Zhengdu, who simply raised an eyebrow in disinterest.
Why was Tang Yuan looking at him? Did he expect him to help? As if he’d have drawing tools either! Everyone knew Lou Zhengdu only carried two pens—one red, one black—and nothing else.
Not to mention, they hadn’t seen Little Fortune Teller’s skills yet. Instead of worrying about Ning Ci, they should probably be worried about that bald old bastard.
Soon, Wang Yecheng reached Ning Ci’s desk. Seeing the spotless, empty surface, his brows furrowed. Finding the perfect excuse to lash out, he snapped:
"It’s your first day, sure, but you can’t even produce a single ruler? Is this how a student should behave? Or do you think that just because you’re in this class, you can slack off and go with the flow?!"
The whole room suddenly went quiet.
That wasn’t just a dig at Ning Ci—it was practically an insult to every Class Eight student, suggesting they were all hopeless slackers.
The students exchanged looks, their expressions indifferent.
But their silence wasn’t submission. It was disdain.
They weren’t reacting because they simply didn’t care. This, in itself, was a form of rebellion.
Some of them did come from rich families, and some could have used their connections to get Wang Yecheng fired. But his thinly veiled resentment toward wealth and his self-important superiority complex were nothing but a joke to them.
And nothing frustrated him more than being ignored.
Wang Yecheng was suddenly reminded of his own wife, who came from a wealthier family than he did. Because she never took a dowry when they married, she had always looked down on him and bossed him around. The same condescending attitude. The same smell of money.
Ning Ci lifted his gaze. His clear, piercing eyes met Wang Yecheng’s directly. There was no defiance in his expression, yet the teacher suddenly felt uneasy—like all his petty thoughts were being laid bare.
Flustered, Wang Yecheng snapped:
"What kind of look is that?! Am I wrong about you?"
"I’m telling you, I’m doing this for your own good! In big exams, the diagrams on the test papers are always drawn accurately. If you have proper drawing tools, you might be able to measure your way to the right answer, even if you don’t know how to solve the problem! That’s free points! But if you don’t have the right tools, you’ll end up drawing sloppy diagrams and getting even the solvable problems wrong!"
"If you think I’m unfair, go ahead and report me! Let’s see who’s actually in the right!"
Wang Yecheng expected this class to be a disaster. But to his surprise, Ning Ci simply responded with a soft "Mhm," and didn’t argue back.
That threw Wang Yecheng off. He had a whole lecture prepared, but now, with no resistance, his words felt stuck in his throat. His face flushed red, and after an awkward moment, he huffed angrily and returned to the podium to start the lesson.
Lou Zhengdu frowned slightly.
Where was Little Fortune Teller’s sharp tongue?
Why was he acting all meek all of a sudden?
Could it be… that he actually liked Wang Yecheng?
The thought made Lou Zhengdu’s expression turn weird. Gay guys really had complicated little crushes, huh?
Next to him, Tang Yuan whispered in admiration:
"He broke that bald old bastard with just one glance. Ning Ci’s got some serious skills."
Lou Zhengdu: "…."
What kind of dumbass nickname was that?
Tang Yuan grinned. "But he really is nice to look at. I forgive him for drinking my water."
Something felt off. Lou Zhengdu narrowed his eyes.
Since the moment Ning Ci entered the classroom, he had felt an odd chill in the air. At first, he thought the AC was just set too low. But even with Lou Zhengdu sitting nearby—a human furnace of pure yang energy—the classroom still felt eerily cold.
Before he could think further, his chair suddenly got nudged from behind.
He turned.
"?"
Lou Zhengdu leaned in close, his breath brushing against Ning Ci’s ear, and teased:
"Little Fortune Teller, where’s that sharp tongue of yours? Why didn’t you say anything just now?"
Ning Ci frowned. "Don’t swear."
Lou Zhengdu scoffed. "I didn’t f***ing swear!"
Ning Ci: "…"
"Don’t be so mean to me," Ning Ci advised seriously. "It’s bad luck."
Lou Zhengdu: "…What kind of nonsense—"
And yet, just minutes later, Wang Yecheng’s drawing tool mysteriously snapped in half.
Lou Zhengdu fell silent.
Gay guys… really are terrifying.
