Chapter 89: Class Twelve
When Yu Yuan arrived in the classroom, she wasn’t exactly in a good mood.
Last night, Yu Xin had come to her room and asked what kind of person the Class Twelve homeroom teacher was.
If Yu Yuan had to say, their homeroom teacher, Shen Mingzhe… was actually pretty nice.
Shen Mingzhe taught Chinese, had been teaching at Mingde High for many years, and was very experienced in his lessons. His teaching skills were quite high.
His classes weren’t boring either — when there was free time, he would chat with students about things, like his own past experiences or funny stories about other teachers.
He was also lenient with students. If they made small mistakes, he would cover for them and smooth things over whenever possible. Compared to other teachers, he was much easier to get along with.
When Yu Yuan told Yu Xin this, she even brought up a joke about Class Three’s homeroom teacher:
“Old Shen said that one time your homeroom teacher stepped in a patch of mud on a rainy day, tracked it all over the office, and the academic director told him he couldn’t leave until he fetched a mop and cleaned it himself.”
Yu Yuan found it funny, but she had barely laughed twice before noticing Yu Xin’s expression and instinctively cutting herself off.
Realizing it, she stammered, “I’m not… badmouthing your homeroom teacher, I just… thought it was kind of funny…”
Yu Xin took a breath. “I think that as Mr. Shen is a colleague of Mr. Chen, it’s not very appropriate to tell students his colleague’s embarrassing stories.”
Especially since Chen Zelin wasn’t even the homeroom teacher of Class Twelve — over time, it could make Class Twelve’s students think, “That teacher’s nothing special.”
Yu Yuan had wanted to say that it wasn’t just about Class Three’s teacher — he had mentioned other teachers too — but looking at Yu Xin’s expression, she didn’t dare voice it.
After that, Yu Xin said nothing more and left Yu Yuan’s room.
Yu Yuan, on the other hand, was left holding in a bellyful of frustration, not sure how to vent it.
When she walked into Class Twelve’s classroom, she happened to see several boys gathered together, smugly talking about something while tossing spray paint cans into the air.
The metal balls inside clanged loudly with each throw and catch — an irritating sound.
Yu Yuan frowned. The class president of Class Twelve was Yan Zhengqing, and out of the twenty students in Class Twelve, thirteen were boys, so the class atmosphere was… rough.
She thought hard before settling on that word — and even then, it didn’t fully capture her feelings.
The student with the highest status was, naturally, Yan Zhengqing. Second were the students close to him. Third were those willing to go along with him. Last were the ones who wanted nothing to do with him.
As for that last category, there was basically only one student left now — a girl named Ning Fu. She looked plain, spoke softly, and was very inconspicuous in the class.
Yu Yuan sometimes thought that Ning Fu wasn’t deliberately avoiding Yan Zhengqing — it was just that her presence was so low that he’d never noticed her.
So the other classmates also acted like they didn’t see her and rarely talked to her.
Yu Yuan herself, thanks to Lin Xiaoxue, was at least remembered by Yan Zhengqing — barely counting as in the second category.
Lin Xiaoxue herself didn’t belong to any of the three categories — she was the one Yan Zhengqing liked, and thus unique.
Yu Yuan avoided those boys and went to sit at her desk.
Her seat was in front of Lin Xiaoxue, so she only had to turn around to talk to her.
Yu Yuan lowered her voice to ask, “What are those boys talking about?”
Lin Xiaoxue shook her head blankly. “I just got here, didn’t really notice.” After a pause, she added, “If you’re curious, I can go ask for you?”
Yu Yuan shook her head. “No need. If you don’t know, forget it.”
At times like this, she felt a bit envious of Yu Xin. Back when she hung out with Sesame, she’d seen Yu Xin reply to messages in her class group chat.
That was when she realized that having a class group chat was normal — announcements could be posted there, and students could chat together.
Class Twelve didn’t have one. Yan Zhengqing had a small group with a few close boys — usually, he gave the orders, and his lackeys spread the word.
Other students who were friendly with each other had their own small group chats.
As for class matters, everything depended on word of mouth among those with good connections. Students like Ning Fu often missed announcements — no one bothered to tell her.
Yu Yuan had a vague feeling that something was off with Class Twelve, but she didn’t dare say it. She knew it would only annoy Yan Zhengqing — and then she’d be relegated to Ning Fu’s level.
If there were a class group chat, she could just scroll back through the messages to know what had happened before…
No — thinking about it carefully — would Class Twelve’s students even post this kind of thing in a group chat?
Yu Yuan was still lost in thought when she suddenly heard one of the boys shout, “Hey! What’s Class Three doing?”
“What?” The others quickly crowded around.
They weren’t speaking quietly, so Yu Yuan could hear clearly.
“I wanted to see their expressions, so I hid a phone in the tree outside Class Three, streaming video the whole time.”
“They’re all making a fuss about something — not sure what they’re doing.”
“Why didn’t you hide the phone closer?”
“Didn’t want to get caught… Hey, look! Aren’t those two carrying a banner?”
“Wow, they even know to block it with something!”
“What’s that they’re carrying inside?”
“It’s in a box, can’t tell — but I think it says something like ‘cleaning’ on it…”
“Trying to wash off the spray paint? No way. When I sprayed it this morning, I accidentally got some on my hand, and it still hasn’t come off!”
The boys were rowdy, and Yu Yuan’s head buzzed from listening.
From their words… they had spray-painted something in Class Three’s classroom?
But why? Class Three had nothing to do with Class Twelve!
Yu Yuan gripped her pen tightly — just then, she heard a new voice enter the room.
Yan Zhengqing walked in, saw the boys huddled together, and raised an eyebrow. “What are you making such a fuss about first thing in the morning?”
“Brother Yan!” “Morning, Brother Yan!” The boys greeted him loudly.
“It’s about what Old Shen mentioned yesterday — Old Octopus said our class was the worst, compared us to Class Three, remember?”
“Yeah — said barely anyone here has good grades. What’s so great about them?”
“Just a casual prank, nothing serious — consider it standing up for Old Shen.”
‘Old Octopus’ referred to the academic director, Zhang Xuehai. His surname was Zhang, he was middle-aged and a bit bald, and when he got angry, his face flushed red — earning him that nickname from Class Twelve.
Yan Zhengqing asked, “What exactly did you do?”
“Just sprayed two words on the back blackboard in Class Three,” one boy said, tossing the spray can into the trash. “They called us trash, so we returned the favor!”
Yu Yuan couldn’t help but look up at Yan Zhengqing. She saw him frown — but what he said was, “Don’t do this kind of sneaky stuff next time.”
Next time? There might even be a next time?!
Yu Yuan wanted to say something, her hands pressing on the desk — but in the end, she didn’t stand up.
She felt lost. Is Class Twelve really… okay like this?
