Chapter 13
A streak of orange light dissipated at the horizon, and darkness shrouded the entire Floriman Academy.
Leon sent a file called “Mathematics Course Selection Plan” at night, reminding Wen Rong to finish selecting courses before midnight.
He didn’t move for a long time. The screen reflected a foolishly smiling face, eyebrows curved, eyes also curved.
The System detected that the Host hadn’t stopped smiling since meeting Leon in the morning. [Host, select courses.]
“Oh, oh.”
But Wen Rong didn’t move.
[Host?]
The shoulders in front of the computer suddenly shrugged, and he burst out laughing. “I am a little fool.”
System: ?
System: Acting cute?
Wen Rong patted both cheeks, unable to hold back laughter again. “So everyone dislikes me because I haven’t been making progress.”
“I won’t get bullied anymore. No matter the consequences, I want to become different from before.”
[Little fools, assemble downstairs at 8 AM tomorrow. Taking you to participate in club recruitment.]
When Wen Rong woke up the next day, he saw the message Leon sent in the class group chat in the middle of the night.
Club.
He remembered the Senior seemed to suggest he join the New Tennis Club when touring the campus.
“Gege, clubs… can I join?” He asked the System.
[Why does the Host suddenly want to join a club?]
The System remembered that on the first day of arrival, the Host seemed very resistant to clubs and socializing.
“I want to change a bit, try to do things I haven’t come into contact with before.”
The System asked curiously: [What club does the Host want to join?]
“Senior Leon recommended I join the Tennis Club… it’s the New Tennis Club.” Wen Rong wiped his forehead with a soft towel. Seeing his bangs sticking up in the mirror, he stood on tiptoe, pretending he was very tall. “Can playing tennis make me taller? I’m only 18 now; if I work hard, I can grow to 1.8 meters.”
Without waiting for the System to answer, he lifted the hem of his shirt and forcefully puffed out his belly. “I also want to train abs, just like that Grey-Haired Throat-Locking Guy. Big blocks of abs. That way, if he throat-locks me again next time, I can pry his hand open, maybe even knock him down!”
The System was very silent. It didn’t dare tell Wen Rong that the President of the New Tennis Club was Shi Ye, the one he wanted to knock down.
Fortunately, Wen Rong was immersed in the happiness of growing taller and growing abs. He didn’t sense these subtleties. After washing up, he quickly changed clothes and went out.
The clock on the wall pointed near the 8 o’clock position. The second hand jumped, in sync with the footsteps on the stairs.
Into the black stream of people, a completely incongruous white was inserted.
The flow stagnated. Everyone looked back, sharp and contemptuous gazes sizing Wen Rong up.
Wen Rong used to be very afraid of such scenes. Now he… was still a little afraid.
Trying hard to control the urge to flee, he clenched his fists and walked down the stairs stiltedly.
At the entrance of the dormitory building, there was a sea of people. Sunlight fell from the pointed eaves, sprinkling warmly on the ground.
Wen Rong spotted Leon’s golden hair in the crowd at a glance. He opened his mouth to call him, but coincidentally, Leon waved into the distance and took the initiative to walk over and chat with someone else.
He paused, somewhat regretful, but the timidity triggered by the strange treatment just now was inexplicably dispelled.
Everyone seemed to stay away from him. It didn’t matter; he could learn to take the initiative to say hello from the Senior.
Wen Rong took a deep breath and walked into the sunlight, his eyes darting around, looking for someone who appeared easy to get along with.
However, he didn’t see anyone smiling at him; instead, he found that everyone took a step back.
Wen Rong: “…”
Everyone else: “…”
Wen Rong clenched his fists and took a step closer to them.
They took another step back.
Wen Rong didn’t dare move anymore. He chanted in his heart: Learn from the Senior, learn from the Senior. He opened his mouth bravely, “Hello everyone, my name is Wen Rong.”
Dead silence.
Wen Rong drummed up his courage once again. “Everyone—”
A pair of hands clapped behind him. “Alright, little fools, let’s go.”
…
Senior Leon walked at the very front. After the failed greeting just now, Wen Rong replayed the memory in his brain, reflecting on what he did wrong.
Inadvertently, he was walking at the very back of the team—two or three meters away from other classmates. Not enough to be disconnected, but he didn’t look like a member of the class.
“What did he say just now? His name is Wen Rong? Who wants to know what his name is.”
“Tsk, tsk, tsk. Dressed even more shabbily than my servants.”
“I was a bit close to him just now. I haven’t caught a virus, have I?”
Whispering discussions suddenly traveled into Wen Rong’s ears.
Wen Rong’s reflection came to an abrupt halt.
He stood dazed amidst the continuing discussion, asking the System ignorantly: “Gege, what do they mean?”
“What virus… so everyone dislikes me because I’m poor?”
The System chose an easy-to-understand explanation: [Because in the eyes of these wealthy heirs, the Host’s ceiling in this life is probably to enter their family company as a small department leader in a branch office, or merely an ordinary employee, but they will become your boss in the future.]
“But I don’t have a job yet, and they aren’t bosses either. Just very ordinary, very ordinary classmates.”
[To them, the only function of an ordinary person is to cast that legally mandated vote during the Federation elections.]
Class—this thing was still too complex for a lonely child who grew up in a poor county town.
Wen Rong’s brain was chaotic, unable to even accurately state the reason for the chaos.
Perhaps he hadn’t stored enough knowledge, or perhaps he didn’t quite understand the rules of this novel world.
Twenty minutes later, the teeming crowd finally stopped. Wen Rong looked up to see the church the Senior had taken him to see from afar the day before yesterday.
At the intersection of the tree-lined road leading to the church stood two students. Pinned to their sleeves were red armbands—the Floriman Academy emblem: laurel leaves circling a lion’s silhouette, marked “1588” above and “Floriman” below.
Pinning this lion on the arm was very cool.
Wen Rong was inexplicably reminded of those classmates in his old school who wore the “Squad Leader” armbands.
Clap, clap, clap.
Applause cut off Wen Rong’s memories.
“Little fools, Senior can only take you this far. Each person can only join one club per semester, choose carefully.”
Wen Rong’s soul was hooked away, his gaze fixed dead on the armbands.
“School workers can’t enter.”
Suddenly, the hand wearing the armband came down, nearly hitting Wen Rong on the nose.
Wen Rong’s mind returned, realizing he had walked to the intersection at some point and had been blocked by the “Squad Leader.”
“He is the Special Recruit. He already ordered a uniform; it’s still being made.” Leon walked over.
“School rules state students must wear uniforms on campus. Violators are not allowed to enter the club recruitment site.”
“School rules also state freshmen must join a club.”
The student blocking Wen Rong was a very tall and thin boy, wearing black-framed glasses like Wen Rong, but his bone structure was very angular, his eyes cold and ruthless. He looked like a refined gang boss.
His deputy beside him was a chestnut-haired boy who also looked very fierce.
The chestnut-haired boy slanted a glance at Wen Rong. “What use is it for him to go in? No club wants him anyway.”
“Who says—” Before Senior Leon could finish, he fished out his phone and shook it. “Little fool, let those behind you go first. I’m taking a call.”
Wen Rong stepped aside obediently, his eyes staring at the two armbands the whole time.
—The Squad Leaders in school were always elected by classmates.
—No one ever mentioned Wen Rong’s name.
—Squad Leaders had very good popularity.
On the other side, Leon answered the phone after stepping away from the crowd. “Senior is busy, don’t bother Senior.”
“How do you fill out the club establishment form?”
“You want to go through club establishment procedures before beating the Tennis Club down?”
“Will I lose?” Shi Ye continued to order: “I’m at the Student Council right now. Hurry up and tell me how to fill out this form. Why does establishing a club require doing 1300 psychological test questions? Is Zhou Xie insane?”
Leon turned back to look at Zhou Xie, who was registering new students, and gritted his teeth. “You little bastard. That matter of building the tennis court was already dancing on the Principal’s head. Now you dare to run wild at the Student Council? Careful Zhou Xie gives you trouble.”
“Tch, who cares about him.”
Leon felt a wave of dizziness. He braced his hands on his hips with effort. “Forget it, do as you please. Senior is busy, go play by yourself for now.”
“What are you busy with?”
“Zhou Xie saw the Special Recruit isn’t wearing a uniform and won’t let him into the club recruitment site.”
Shi Ye’s voice suddenly pitched up: “Is there something wrong with Zhou Xie—”
Then he coughed, lowering his voice to say, “There probably, probably isn’t any club that wants him anyway.”
Of course there is. New Tennis Club. No threshold, beginners allowed.
I even specifically told the Special Recruit.
Conscious that he had done something bad, Leon couldn’t help but raise the corner of his lips, trying hard to sigh. “Sigh, despite that, the unlucky Senior must take responsibility. A Junior in the class I’m leading can’t enter the club recruitment site; it indicates a problem with my work ability.”
“Seeing as you’re so troubled, I’ll tell Qi Yuan to send a set of uniforms over. Put it on him and he can enter.”
Leon’s gaze congealed, looking into the distance. “That is indeed a good method.”
Sometimes he admired Shi Ye’s brain. How could he come up with so many ideas that followed the rules but made many people uncomfortable?
But coming up with such an idea for Wen Rong… very suspicious.
“Wait there—”
Leon had a plan in mind. He curved his lips and interrupted him: “Focus on doing the 1300 psychological test questions. I’ll handle it myself.”
After hanging up, Leon leisurely took off his jacket, returned to the foolish Junior’s side, and draped it over his head. He said to Zhou Xie, “He’s wearing a uniform now.”
Student Council President Zhou Xie. His uniform was ironed perfectly flat. Under the 3/7 parted slicked-back hair sat gold-rimmed glasses, extremely refined.
His eyes slanted over; the lenses couldn’t hide the violence in his brown pupils.
“The school’s definition of a uniform is the uniformly customized shirt, vest, jacket, trousers, leather shoes, and tie. If you say this counts as wearing a uniform, then I’ll issue him a yellow card penalty on the grounds of ‘improper attire’.”
This reaction was within Leon’s expectations.
Shi Ye’s crooked brain and Zhou Xie’s rigid brain were natural enemies, each capable of making the other super annoyed.
Leon took back the uniform jacket, pondering how to drag Shi Ye into this chaotic battlefield, when he suddenly heard a weak voice from beside him:
“That—”
Leon paused his thoughts and hurriedly interrupted. “Little fool, you aren’t going to say sorry or thank you again, are you? Don’t. Our President Zhou is famous for being impervious to soft or hard tactics.”
Wen Rong shook his head with a hum to deny it. He took a deep breath, raised his head, and bravely moved his gaze upward. Collar, chin, eyes… Ah, no, this classmate with the armband looks a bit fierce.
Leon got curious. “What did you want to say?”
“May I ask…”
“It’s okay, speak slowly.”
The few seconds of wind-up and Senior Leon’s encouragement allowed Wen Rong to finally gather enough courage. He opened his mouth and boldly asked:
“May I ask if you need volunteers? Can I work with you?”
“…”
“…”
“…”
Dong—
The bell in the church tolled. The white pigeons were startled, spreading their wings to streak across the sky, their shadows falling fragmented on everyone’s faces.
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