funbook-pk Chapter 109 Picking up food
Chapter 109 Picking up food
Exam week is always like this.
One door after another, with only twenty minutes in between, enough time to go to the toilet and get a drink of water.
Sometimes when I'm comparing two multiple-choice questions with the person next to me, we find that our answers are different, and then neither of us says anything.
Song Huan is in Class 4, and Xiao Yunqing is in Class 6.
Both classes are on the same floor.
Every time Song Huan finished an exam and stood in the corridor, she could see Xiao Yunqing standing in the corner by the door of Class 6, looking down and flipping through her notebook.
It's not a textbook, it's a notebook for recording mistakes.
Two books, one for math and one for physics, one blue and one pink, with curled-up corners, I've read them many times.
These two exams aren't until tomorrow.
Logically, there was no need to be so nervous, but she was just nervous.
His brows were furrowed, his lips were pursed, he would turn a page and then pause, muttering to himself as if he were reciting something.
The Chinese exam is in the afternoon.
Song Huan always writes essays quickly. She can fill in the beginning and the end, and just add some random stuff in the middle to make up the 800 words.
He finished writing the last word, put down his pen, and glanced out the window.
The sun was setting in the west, and the light shone in through the window, drawing a bright square on the table.
He glanced at the clock on the wall; there was still half an hour until the exam was due.
There should be enough time.
He flipped to the first page of the test paper, scanned it from beginning to end, and found nothing that needed to be corrected.
Then raise your hand.
The proctor walked over and glanced down at him.
"Submit the paper?" Song Huan nodded.
The teacher collected the papers, he packed up his things, and stood up.
When I walked out of the exam room, the corridor was empty. There were still people writing in the next exam room, their pens scratching.
Instead of heading towards the stairwell, he kept walking forward, towards Class Six.
The back door of Class 6 was open.
He tiptoed to the door and looked through the window.
Xiao Yunqing sat in the third row by the window, writing on her test paper with her head down.
The pen moved very quickly, making a soft, continuous scratching sound.
Her ponytail hung down her shoulders, the ends of which were slightly split and looked a bit yellow in the light.
She didn't notice him.
Song Huan quickly bent down, keeping his body low, and crouched as he walked over.
He walked over to Xiao Yunqing's schoolbag, unzipped it, found two notebooks, took them out, stuffed them into his own schoolbag, and then closed Xiao Yunqing's schoolbag zipper.
The action was very quick, taking less than ten seconds in total.
He crouched down and retraced his steps, then stood up after confirming it was safe and patted the dust off his knees.
Go downstairs.
The ground floor was empty, with sunlight spreading across the ground.
He walked out of the teaching building and sat down on a step in the administration building.
The steps were made of cement and were warm after being in the sun all day.
He opened his schoolbag and took out the two notebooks containing his mistakes.
Blue for math, pink for physics.
When you open it, it's filled with dense writing.
Her handwriting is beautiful, each stroke is neat and tidy, just like when she was a child.
The correct answer was written below each incorrect question, the reason for the error was marked in red pen, and some even had diagrams drawn.
He looked at the solutions and frowned slightly.
It's too complicated.
Some steps involved several detours; a path that could be completed in three steps was written as having six.
It's not that she's stupid; it's just that's how it's written in the textbook, and she copied it down.
He pulled a new notebook out of his bag; it was blank, and the plastic wrap on the cover was still on.
Tear off the plastic film, turn to the first page, and take a pen.
The first question is in math, about functions.
He glanced at her solution, opened his new notebook, and rewrote it using a simpler method.
Define the unknown, set up the equation, substitute the values, and solve. Three steps.
After finishing writing, I read it over again to make sure there were no problems, and then turned to the next page.
The second question is about trajectory motion.
She wrote half a page, using formulas within formulas, and the final answer was correct, but the process was exhausting to watch.
He simplified the process, writing a note next to each step with an arrow pointing to it. The words were crooked, but still legible.
He wrote it down line by line.
The sunlight slowly moved away from the steps, from my feet to the ground, and from the ground to the flower bed.
People were running on the playground, their shouts echoing in the distance.
The bell rang in the teaching building; the exams were over.
He sped up.
The pen tip scratches across the paper, line after line.
After finishing math, it's time for physics.
Time waits for no one; he had to act quickly.
When he finished the last physics question, he put down his pen, breathed a sigh of relief, and glanced at the teaching building.
People started appearing in the corridor, in twos and threes; some were comparing answers, and some were packing their things.
He closed the new notebook and stuffed it into his schoolbag along with the two notebooks containing his mistakes.
He stood up, dusted off his pants, and walked towards the teaching building.
There were already quite a few people standing on the first floor.
Song Huan stood at the door for a while and saw Xiao Yunqing come down the stairs.
She walked slowly, her steps were heavy, and each step was firm.
Her face was a little pale, not the kind of paleness that comes from illness, but the kind of paleness that comes from having something on her mind and trying hard not to let others see it.
She saw him and walked over.
"How did the exam go?"
Song Huan asked.
"good."
she says.
His voice was muffled, and he seemed listless.
The two people walked outside.
As they reached the flowerbed, Song Huan spoke up, "What's wrong?"
She didn't say anything, but walked a few steps with her head down.
Then he stopped, reached into his backpack and rummaged through it, turning left and right, then right and left.
Her face became even paler.
"My error notebook is missing," she said softly, as if talking to herself.
Which subject?
"My math and physics books are both missing." She flipped through the bag again, taking everything out: textbooks, workbooks, pencil case, a pack of tissues, and a bottle of milk.
No.
She squatted down and slowly put the items back one by one.
After finishing, he stood up and lowered his head.
"It might have been left in the classroom," she said, but she herself didn't quite believe it.
Song Huan didn't say anything.
The two walked towards the school gate.
She walked ahead, her steps slower than usual, her ponytail hanging down without being swung.
Her inner thoughts drifted over, one after another, a jumbled mess.
[I clearly put it in my schoolbag, how come it's gone?]
[Did you fall off the road?]
[I filled my physics notebook with lots of multiple-choice questions, and my math notebook with two months' worth of wrong answers.]
[What if it's gone?]
[How should I study tonight?]
I'm definitely going to do badly on tomorrow's math and physics tests.
Song Huan followed behind, hands in his pockets.
The streetlights came on, casting two shadows on the ground, one in front and one behind.
When she got to her building, she stopped.
He turned around, his expression strained, forcing a smile that looked worse than crying.
"We've arrived. You can go back now."
"Um."
She turned and walked into the stairwell.
The steps were slow, each step felt like walking on cotton.
When they reached the entrance of the building, Song Huan spoke.
"Xiao Yunqing".
She stopped, but didn't turn around.
Song Huan opened her schoolbag and took out two notebooks.
One is blue, and the other is pink.
He walked over and handed the two books to her.
Xiao Yunqing turned around, looked down at the two notebooks, and froze.
She reached out and took it, flipped it open and glanced at it; it was her own handwriting, her own wrong answers.
She turned to another page, and it was still hers.
"You..." She looked up at him.
Song Huan took out another notebook from her bag, the new one.
Hand it over.
"Your solution is too complicated."
He said in a very indifferent tone, as if he were talking about something that had nothing to do with him, "I wrote a simpler one, you should be able to understand it."
Xiao Yunqing took it and turned to the first page.
Her handwriting is neat and tidy.
Next to it was a line of text, crooked and pointed to by an arrow, which read, "Take the derivative first and then substitute it. Don't use the definition, it's too much trouble."
She turned another page.
It was still her question, and next to it was written another line: "Draw the force analysis completely, don't forget friction."
She stood at the entrance of the building, the streetlight shining on her and casting her shadow on the wall.
She lowered her head and flipped through the notebook slowly, page by page.
My finger paused for a moment when I turned to the last page.
She held the three notebooks tightly in her arms.
She looked up at him.
His mouth moved slightly, as if he wanted to say something.
Finally, what came out of her mouth was, "Don't you have a Chinese exam this afternoon? Where did you find the time to write this?"
Song Huan laughed, "I write quickly, and as everyone knows, I like to use blank spaces in my Chinese compositions."
She lowered her head and stared at the notebook in her arms.
After a while, she whispered, "Then...then I'll go up."
"Um."
She turned and walked into the stairwell.
He took two steps, then stopped.
Without turning around, the sound came from ahead, muffled.
"Thank you, but I won't forget you were a thief who stole my things!"
Then she ran up.
Footsteps echoed in the hallway, and motion-activated lights illuminated one floor at a time.
Song Huan couldn't help but laugh. Standing downstairs, hands in his pockets, he watched the motion-activated lights in the stairwell light up one floor at a time.
……
By the time I finished the last exam on the second day, the sun was already setting.
After leaving the examination room, Song Huan didn't go downstairs but stood at the entrance of Class 3 for a while.
After waiting for a few minutes, Xiao Yunqing came out from inside, holding a transparent file bag containing a pen and an admission ticket.
"How did the exam go?" he asked.
She glanced at him, her expression somewhat complicated.
His lips were pursed, and his brows were slightly furrowed; it was hard to tell whether he was happy or unhappy.
"It's alright," she said.
"I remember there was a motion analysis question in your error notebook for physics and a function question in math, and both of them were on the test this time." Song Huan leaned against the wall, her tone casual. "It should be fine, right?"
Xiao Yunqing blushed slightly, but quickly her face returned to its original color.
She snorted, the sound coming from her nose, with a hint of petulance.
"You still dare to talk! I couldn't understand a single word of the solution you wrote, so I had to do it myself."
She said this with her chin slightly raised and her expression fierce.
But Song Huan heard her thoughts clearly.
[Just kidding.]
[Actually, I understood it.]
[It's so much simpler than before.]
[actually......]
She didn't continue thinking about it, or perhaps she did, but he didn't hear her.
She turned and walked downstairs quickly, her ponytail swinging.
Song Huan followed behind and smiled.
When we returned to the classroom, the corridor was piled high with books, and everyone was carrying back the books they had moved out before the exam.
Song Huan found her stack of belongings, picked it up, and walked to the first row by the window to put it down.
Arrange them neatly, with textbooks sorted by size and workbooks on the right.
Xiao Yunqing walked over from behind, carrying a stack of books that was half as tall as his.
The top book was tilted, so she used her chin to steady it as she walked carefully.
I paused as I passed his seat and glanced at him.
Song Huan quickly stood up and helped her put the book on her new seat.
She then sat down with satisfaction and slowly arranged the books one by one, as if she were tidying up something very precious.
The bell rang, signaling the end of get out of class.
The two walked towards the cafeteria.
The cafeteria was busiest at this time, with long queues at the food windows.
They were at the very back of the line, slowly moving forward with the queue.
Xiao Yunqing walked in front, and Song Huan followed behind.
She tiptoed to look out the window, then turned back. "They have braised pork ribs today."
"Um."
"And hot and sour shredded potatoes."
"Um."
"Could you say just a couple more words?" She turned and glared at him.
Song Huan thought for a moment, then said, "Mhm."
She ignored him and turned back.
The line moved forward a few steps, then a few more.
When they got their food, the two of them carried their plates and looked for a seat.
There was an empty table in the corner, against the wall, and the light was a bit dim.
Xiao Yunqing sat down, and Song Huan sat opposite him.
She glanced down at her plate.
Braised pork ribs, scrambled eggs with tomatoes, stir-fried greens, and a large pork chop.
He glanced at his plate.
Braised pork belly, hot and sour shredded potatoes, stir-fried lettuce, and a poached egg.
The two of them picked up their chopsticks at the same time.
Xiao Yunqing picked up a piece of pork rib and tried to put it on his plate.
Song Huan also picked up a piece of braised pork and wanted to put it on her plate.
The two pairs of chopsticks touched in mid-air.
Metal against metal, a soft clang.
The two of them looked up at the same time.
She looked at him, and he looked at her.
She glanced down at his plate.
The two men stared at each other's plates for two seconds.
Braised pork belly, hot and sour shredded potatoes, stir-fried lettuce, and a poached egg.
Song Huan's plate was full of Xiao Yunqing's favorite dishes!
Braised pork ribs, scrambled eggs with tomatoes, stir-fried greens, and a large pork chop.
Xiao Yunqing's plate was full of Song Huan's favorite foods!
Xiao Yunqing was the first to react.
She put down her chopsticks, her face turning red from her neck down to the tips of her ears.
She lowered her head, staring at her plate, her lips pursed, her eyelashes trembling.
Song Huan also put down her chopsticks.
He leaned back in his chair, looked at her, and smiled slightly.
The cafeteria was noisy; some people were talking loudly, some were laughing, and some were shouting, "Don't push! Don't push!"
But their table was very quiet, so quiet that you could hear the person across from you breathing.
Seeing her blushing face, Song Huan couldn't help but laugh out loud.
Xiao Yunqing glared at him, stuffed the ribs she was going to give to Song Huan into her own mouth, chewed a couple of times, and said indistinctly, "What are you laughing at? I got the food myself, I can eat it if I want."
"Okay, you eat, you eat." Song Huan pushed her plate towards her. "Don't you want the braised pork?"
She ignored him and kept her head down while eating.
After eating a couple of mouthfuls of rice, I secretly put a piece of spare rib on his plate and also took a piece of braised pork from him.
This time, I didn't look at him; he moved as fast as a thief.
Song Huan looked at the piece of pork rib, smiled, picked up her chopsticks, and put it in her mouth to eat.
The cafeteria lights shone on the two people, casting their shadows on the wall as they leaned together.
……
The rating is 7.5 now, let's all keep going and aim for an 8.0!