We’re about to step into the two thousand years, and in the last few years, the music scene has really opened up. Acts like Little Tiger Team, the Four Heavenly Kings, and Deng Lijun, as well as their songs, have spread among students, along with star posters and such.
In the dorms, Li Li likes Little Tiger Team, but Mao Xiaomei is a fan of the Four Heavenly Kings. The walls are plastered with their posters, and there are also celebrity stickers, which are stuck on notebooks. Then there’s copying down lyrics, flashing them around when there’s nothing to do, and singing them out loud, even with a tone-deaf voice.
At that time, there were no computers or mobile phones, and Qin Xiangnuan didn’t watch much TV, but she loved to read the newspapers, especially the entertainment section. Sometimes, there were even serialized stories—what a pity that in her previous life she wasn’t educated enough and hadn’t read many books, otherwise she might have become a budding young author.
She tossed the sports section onto the desk, looking eagerly at the papers in Jian Zhiqing’s hands.
"Here you go," Jian Zhiqing simply pulled out a section and placed it in front of her.
"Thanks, Brother Jian," Qin Xiangnuan took the newspaper and started reading carefully, as seriously as if she were answering exercise questions. Jian Zhiqing couldn’t help but laugh quietly and then picked up the sports section for his own reading.
Sometimes he didn’t know what to make of Qin Xiangnuan’s temperament.
"I thought you weren’t interested in these things—a Second Miss Qin who doesn’t watch TV, listen to songs, or chase after celebrities—how come you like the entertainment section?"
"Then you probably don’t know, do you?" Qin Xiangnuan rarely contradicted Jian Zhiqing but did so now, "Your Nuannuan likes to read the entertainment papers. I don’t watch TV because there’s nothing interesting to watch; don’t chase after stars because there aren’t any worth following; and don’t listen to songs because I lack artistic cultivation."
Having lived a few decades extra, no matter what, the TV shows of the future couldn’t be matched by the current ones, neither in plot nor special effects. Besides, she was buried in her studies—what high schooler had time for TV? If people found out, they’d scold her.
She tugged at her hair. Huh, seemed like she misspoke just now.
As she lifted her face, she met Jian Zhiqing’s eyes, which were smiling but not smiling, and the slight upward curve at the corner of his lips. It was inexplicably strange.
What did she actually say? She had forgotten.
She lowered her head again, pretending ignorance. Whatever was said, was forgotten.
Yet, Jian Zhiqing continued to smile, a smile that harbored an unknown, profound meaning in the depths of his gaze.
At this moment, a breeze blew by, and the cool shade beneath the big tree was always comfortable. You have to admit that the aristocrats knew how to pick their houses. This small Siheyuan, warm in winter and cool in summer, was now embracing the beginning of summer. Sitting at the stone table, a cup of tepid tea, a book, or a newspaper made for a pleasant afternoon. And then there’s Conghua, lying under the tree, sticking out its tongue. Sometimes, it moved its ears, opened its eyes, and if no strangers were around, it would shrink its head back in to continue sleeping.
Now, not only has it become a guard dog, it has also become a lazy dog.
Used to bark a couple of times, but nowadays, it’s too lazy to bark much, probably because it’s fattened up and doesn’t want to move.
Conghua is definitely a genetic outlier among military dogs, completely lacking the military dog spirit. For a bone, it would do anything. Other than rolling around and wagging its tail, climbing on people’s legs without shame, nothing is beneath it. Thanks to Granny Lu spoiling Conghua, feeding it anything—it wouldn’t know how many beatings it would have received if it had ended up in Qin Xiangnuan’s hands.
Qin Xiangnuan felt much better after reading an entire section of the entertainment newspaper. She threw aside the paper, not forgetting that she hadn’t finished her exercises. Every time exams approached, the problem sets made her feel queasy. Although she wasn’t a straight-A student, she was quite clever. With time to study, her grades were always steadily progressing, but it was still a strain. Not to mention others who were worse off than her—she didn’t know how they coped.
So, senior year is a time in one’s life no one really wants to revisit. She didn’t feel it in her past life, but in this life, she truly understood.
It was indeed torturous.
She handed her completed math test paper to Jian Zhiqing.
Although Jian Zhiqing had graduated a while back, he was once a celebrated scholar in the school. These problems were a cinch for him. Previously, Qin Xiangnuan didn’t believe it, until one day, Jian Zhiqing easily pointed out the mistakes in her work and demonstrated different solutions. Qin Xiangnuan effectively gained a math tutor at no cost, often tossing her completed math tests to Jian Zhiqing.
Jian Zhiqing took out a pen and started checking each problem, but of course, not every answer was correct.
He picked out the mistakes and explained them to Qin Xiangnuan.
With her mind and hand working in tandem, Qin Xiangnuan felt she more or less understood the problem after extrapolating from one problem to another.
"Got it?" Jian Zhiqing tapped Qin Xiangnuan’s forehead lightly with the pen, "If you don’t, I’ll explain again."
"No need, I’ve got it," Qin Xiangnuan rubbed her forehead and mumbled softly, "You’d be wasting your talents not being a teacher. You explain concepts clearly, and you even scold students just like our math teacher."
"What did you say?" Jian Zhiqing didn’t catch Qin Xiangnuan’s muttering, "Young lady, feeling defiant, are we? Unhappy about something?"
"You heard wrong; I didn’t say anything," Qin Xiangnuan flatly denied, continuing to work on problems. One read the paper, the other worked on exercises, a scene of harmonious tranquility. Whenever Qin Xiangnuan stumbled on a tough question, she would tug at his sleeve, but Jian Zhiqing had the patience of a saint, always explaining carefully. Math had always been Qin Xiangnuan’s Achilles’ heel in school—this wasn’t something memorization could solve; it required talent and logical ability. But unfortunately, while Qin Xiangnuan was good at embroidery and calligraphy, math problems tripped her up. If not for Jian Zhiqing, the amateur tutor, her math would still be abysmal.
She had Teacher Wang for English and Jian Zhiqing for math and sciences, and everything else, well, was pure rote memorization.
She wasn’t afraid of memorization. With ten times more study time than others, one way or another, she’d memorize it. If not once, then twice; if not twice, then thrice.