Chapter Two: The Class Beauty is Cornered

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Zhuo Nan, male, fifteen, a student in the junior high division of Deqing Steelworks' Employees' School—let it be noted that he was the worst among the poor students. He failed every subject, and throughout his school years, he adhered to the “Three Basics” principle: barely listening in class, hardly reading his textbooks, and mostly copying his homework. Of course, the classmates he copied from were about as hopeless as he was, and sometimes others would even copy from him.

If there was anything that could be considered a merit in Zhuo Nan, perhaps… he could pass for somewhat handsome and dashing. He stood at one meter seventy-four, weighed just over a hundred and thirty pounds—solid enough among junior high students. He was also unusually attentive to his appearance, keeping himself tidy. A few other underachievers in the class would sometimes call him “Brother Nan”—after all, the influence of “Young and Dangerous” was still immense in those days.

After being summoned yet again to the office by the old math teacher for a routine scolding, Zhuo Nan was sent back to the classroom. The teachers had little recourse with him. He was an orphan; both parents had worked at the steelworks, but when Zhuo Nan was two, an explosion in the workshop boiler left not even their bodies to be found. The factory paid some compensation and promised to waive Zhuo Nan’s tuition at the Employees’ School.

From then on, Zhuo Nan was raised by his second uncle, Zhuo Wengang, and his wife, Wang Liru, both also employees at the steelworks. They had a daughter, Zhuo Lanlan, who was now in sixth grade at the elementary division.

At the Employees’ School, teachers and parents were all colleagues. Some parents were strict, giving teachers less to worry about; some were busy and lax, so the teachers took on more. For a child like Zhuo Nan, with no one to mind him, the teachers grew too weary to bother. Everyone knew his particular circumstances. Zhuo Wengang and Wang Liru both worked—one child was already plenty for them to handle; with Zhuo Nan, it was even harder. Over time, the teachers simply let him be.

“Brother Nan, the way you talked back to that old man just now—awesome! Truly worthy of being our Brother Nan.” As soon as Zhuo Nan entered the classroom, Shi Yang greeted him.

Looking at the still-boyish Shi Yang, Zhuo Nan recalled how, during their school days, they were practically close as skin—like two people sharing one pair of underwear. Shi Yang didn’t get into high school, and his family arranged for him to join the army early. Later, he had an accident in the military, was left disabled, and survived on a paltry state pension. The year Zhuo Nan was reborn, Shi Yang couldn’t even get out of bed, his parents tending to him day and night.

Clapping Shi Yang’s sturdy shoulder, Zhuo Nan thought, “Brother, now that I’ve been reborn, I won’t let you walk the same old road.” But aloud, he said, “Come on, that was nothing. I was just daydreaming, a woman… heh heh.”

Shi Yang immediately caught on, giving a knowing look. The two of them snickered lewdly to themselves, until someone nearby could take no more.

“Zhuo Nan, can’t you be serious in class for once? All you do is sleep. The exams are in three months,” came a voice. Zhuo Nan turned and saw it was Fu Xinxin, the math class monitor and also their group leader.

Fu Xinxin, like Zhuo Nan, was the child of steelworkers. Her father was the deputy head of the steelworks’ finance office. Zhuo Nan used to wonder why her math was so good; now it seemed obvious—her father worked with numbers for a living.

Fu Xinxin sat right in front of Zhuo Nan. Normally, a star student like her wouldn’t be seated among the underachievers, but she was timid and gentle, beautiful enough to be class belle, and thus not popular among the girls. To show concern for the poor students, the teachers had placed her amidst their ranks, hoping she’d serve as a model.

Though Fu Xinxin didn’t get along well with other girls, she fit in among Zhuo Nan’s gang for a simple reason: the teachers had finally brought in a pretty girl, and none of the boys wanted to drive her away. If she left, who would they have to daydream about in class?

Of course, Zhuo Nan was the primary target of her persistent admonitions. Years later, when Zhuo Nan recalled his school days, he wondered if perhaps Fu Xinxin liked him, always seeking his attention.

Now that he’d been reborn, Zhuo Nan was determined to test his old suspicion. So he spoke up, “Fu Xinxin, why are you always picking on me? Don’t tell me you like me.”

In those days, early romances did happen, but students spoke of such things as if they were taboo. For Zhuo Nan to so brazenly say “like” was scandalous. If the teachers or parents found out, there’d be hell to pay.

Fu Xinxin’s face instantly flushed bright red. She hadn’t expected Zhuo Nan could be so shameless, speaking so recklessly with so many classmates around. Shi Yang and the other boys, seeing Brother Nan’s boldness, were all the more in awe.

Zhuo Nan stared straight at Fu Xinxin, looking for an answer, but the poor girl blushed so deeply she seemed ready to melt, her head nearly shrinking into her shoulders. After a few seconds of silence, she muttered, “Zhuo Nan, I’m not talking to you anymore,” and turned away, burying her face in her arms on the desk—likely close to tears.

Seeing trouble, the boys instantly scattered, each wearing a “none of my business” expression.

Zhuo Nan cursed, “You guys are useless.”

Just then, the bell for the last class rang. Zhuo Nan had to return to his seat. The boy beside him quickly took out his book, buried his head in it, pretending to study hard. Zhuo Nan couldn’t help but laugh and tapped his desk. “You’re holding your book upside down. Can’t even fake it properly.”

The boy, flustered, righted the book and muttered, “Thanks, Brother Nan.”

As the class began with the usual chorus—“Stand up, good afternoon, teacher”—Zhuo Nan started his first lesson after being reborn. The previous one didn’t count; he’d been kicked out. In front, Fu Xinxin had straightened up, focused on her notes. Zhuo Nan, with nothing else to do, glanced around. The “poor student zone” was the same as ever—books stood on desks, heads hidden behind them. As long as they didn’t make noise, the teachers didn’t care what they did.

His friends were already deep in sleep, but Zhuo Nan himself was wide awake, his mind spinning with thoughts of his rebirth. He’d read plenty of rebirth novels in his last life—every protagonist became rich or powerful by leveraging their “past life” memories. Should he do the same? His memory only went up to 2010. He remembered that the biggest money was in the internet and real estate—first five years for tech, next five for property. Online games, e-commerce, all were possible, but he was just a middle schooler now, with only two coins to his name, blown away by the wind. Where would he get his start-up capital? Study hard, become a civil servant? Spare him—no connections, no prospects, and besides, he wasn’t cut out for bureaucracy.

In the end, business seemed the only way. As for the money, something would work out—a road appears before the cart, as the saying goes. With that decision, Zhuo Nan felt at ease. Glancing at the earnest Fu Xinxin in front of him, he realized he’d been a bit much earlier. After all, they were still just students. His attitude had been too flippant, a holdover from his previous life. He should apologize.

He tore a scrap from his workbook and wrote, “Sorry, I was too rude just now.” He woke the classmate beside him and had him pass the note to Fu Xinxin.

The boy, seeing this was part of Brother Nan’s girl-chasing strategy, took care to deliver the note when the teacher’s back was turned, even giving Fu Xinxin a look to say, “It’s not from me, it’s from him.”

Fu Xinxin opened the note, curious. The neat handwriting surprised her—when did Zhuo Nan learn to write so well?

This was thanks to Zhuo Nan’s years of hard work after joining the workforce. In his past life, he’d worked in an insurance company, registering client information. If his handwriting wasn’t good, no one would have hired him.

A teenage girl has little guile. Seeing Zhuo Nan apologize, Fu Xinxin wrote back, “It’s fine, but don’t say things like that again. You should study hard. Your handwriting is even prettier than my dad’s. You’re so smart—if you work hard, you’ll definitely get into a good high school.”

When Zhuo Nan read her reply, he felt his head ache. This girl couldn’t go three sentences without urging him to study. Such a goody-two-shoes. He wrote back, “Don’t worry, I’ll study hard. Thank you.”

“Mm, I believe in you. Let’s work hard together and get into a good high school.”

“………………”

“………………”

By the end, the boy beside them had fallen asleep again, and the notes passed directly between Zhuo Nan and Fu Xinxin. He was no longer needed and drifted off to dreamland. For Fu Xinxin, the rest of the class passed in a blur; she barely heard a thing. As she packed her things after school, she turned around, pouting, “It’s your fault—I didn’t hear a word of the lesson.”

Zhuo Nan felt wronged. “How is it my fault? I finished what I had to say—it was you who told me even your favorite foods. What could I do?” Just as he was about to explain, Shi Yang slung his backpack over his shoulder and called, “Brother Nan, let’s go play soccer.”

Fu Xinxin, seeing Shi Yang approach, had nothing more to say and left after glancing at Zhuo Nan. Watching her go, Zhuo Nan felt a strange sense of loss, but Shi Yang was waiting, so he simply grabbed his bag and said, “Let’s play ball.” Back then, the national football team wasn’t as disappointing as it is now, so many middle schoolers still loved playing.

Once Zhuo Nan’s close friends were ready, they left the classroom together, joking as they went down the stairs. They bumped into a classmate hurrying back. Zhuo Nan remembered him as a decent kid—average grades, small and scrawny.

“Brother Nan, Brother Nan, Fu Xinxin’s been cornered by Wang Yu at the school gate. You have to help her!”

Zhuo Nan’s face darkened. “Damn it, Wang Yu, you’re still not done? Come on, guys, let’s go show him who’s boss.” He tossed his bag to the messenger, who was instantly weighed down by a mountain of backpacks, nearly toppling under the load. Zhuo Nan and his crew stormed toward the main gate, ready for battle.

New chapters of the novel “Super All-Rounder” now being updated.