NH chapter 012

Chapter 12: Big Chicken Leg

Shen Tingyu was slightly taller by a few centimeters; when he lowered his eyes, most of his gaze was concealed by his long lashes. It was as if an artist had wiped away the gleam flickering in a character’s eyes, creating an entirely different contrast.

Huo Ye was forced to tilt his head slightly to look at him. It was a not-so-obvious sign of weakness; Huo Ye clenched his fists, completely still.

The two maintained a standoff for a long time.

Although Shen Tingyu had a hand around Huo Ye’s neck, he wasn’t exerting much strength—he was merely restraining his opponent.

The palm pressed against Huo Ye’s prominent adam’s apple, vibrating subtly with each breath, causing a slight itch. Part of his fingers covered the main blood vessels on the side of Huo Ye’s neck, where something warm flowed slowly under the skin, pulsing strongly like a heartbeat, continuously disrupting Shen Tingyu’s thoughts.

Huo Ye put away all resistance and sharpness, raising his eyebrows to look up at Shen Tingyu, the corners of his lips curling into a leisurely smile.

A kind of smile that seemed to say, what are you going to do about it?

Shen Tingyu coldly stared for a while, then suddenly pressed his thumb against Huo Ye’s neck just a bit, a gesture akin to a caress but with an underlying tone of warning and threat.

He lifted forcefully, but then gently let go. Shen Tingyu pushed him away and said, “Huo Ye, you’re just here to mess with me.”

Huo Ye, far in the balcony living room, could still hear the sound of the room door being slammed shut. He touched his neck, suspecting a faint red mark might have already been left.

—”Ah, it feels like I’ve been stamped by a cat’s paw.”

Huo Ye thought about this, then shrugged and continued hanging up clothes without any psychological burden.

After everything was done, Huo Ye returned home before 9 o’clock.

The next day in class, Shen Tingyu hardly spoke to him at all. Although their desks were joined, the distance of books and elbows felt as far away as taking a taxi.

Huo Ye wasn’t playing such childish games with him; rather than worrying about Shen Tingyu sulking, there was something more pressing at hand.

That being, they were being isolated.

Yes, isolated.

Due to an inherent pride from being “good students,” the classmates in Class A of the second year seemed to reject newcomers. Huo Ye, who was the tail-end student from Class 18, was a newcomer, and Shen Tingyu, who transferred from another school, was also a newcomer. It just so happened that they became tablemates.

Of course, there were more newcomers than just the two of them—three or four from parallel classes—but these students had good grades and didn’t have a strong presence. Seeing this situation, the others actually felt a sense of joy, because with these two drawing the fire and attention, they might appear less like newcomers themselves.

Huo Ye had always been good at socializing and knew that resolving conflicts and misunderstandings required time and patience, but what about Shen Tingyu?

He glanced at Shen Tingyu, who was focused on his practice book, scribbling away. This was a Chinese class; Shen Tingyu wasn’t paying attention but was completely engrossed in his own questions.

Huo Ye suddenly felt that his worries were unnecessary. Just like Shen Tingyu didn’t care about following the teacher and preferred to do his own exercises, he didn’t care whether others isolated him because he could single-handedly isolate everyone else.

This was the pinnacle of pride—self-sufficient in his majesty.

Huo Ye fell silent.

It was a kind of skill, he was invincible.

Chinese was Huo Ye’s strongest subject. The teacher was explaining the errors from the class exam paper; he had scored nearly 140 on this paper and had almost mastered it, so he didn’t listen.

Huo Ye leaned in to peek at the types of questions Shen Tingyu was doing. Shen Tingyu was too engrossed to notice. These were several reading comprehension questions, and when he finished one, he corrected it, resulting in a page full of red marks—his scores wouldn’t be high.

“Don’t look too fast; if you skim, it won’t sink in before you start answering. If you get it right, that would be a miracle.” Huo Ye couldn’t help but say.

Shen Tingyu paused his pencil and shot him a cool glance, a silent message telling him not to meddle.

Huo Ye pretended not to see and continued, correcting his thought process. He pointed out mistakes in the thought process and mentioned the key scoring points. However, despite Huo Ye’s gentle tone, it came off as annoying to Shen Tingyu, who was infuriatingly right.

With no room to refute, Shen Tingyu could only press down harder; his handwriting was wild yet vigorous, as if it were carved, the paper almost soaked through with thick ink.

When it came to answering the reading comprehension questions, the usually mute Shen Tingyu was compelled to speak up, as he disagreed with Huo Ye’s answer and insisted that his own approach was correct.

Seeing Shen Tingyu argue his case, Huo Ye thought he looked vivid and intelligent; propping his chin on his hand, he smiled, “I thought you’d never talk to me again.”

The moment Shen Tingyu noticed his smile, he suddenly felt foolish for earnestly refuting for half a day with his practice book. The absurdity and powerlessness surged within him, and he sarcastically replied, “Are you sick?”

Huo Ye didn’t respond. The black gel pen in his fingers seemed to be alive as it spun around. A classmate at the adjacent desk happened to see this act, perhaps thinking it was cool, so he tried to spin his pen but ended up flying it across the aisle—”Ah, shoot!!”

His unfortunate desk mate got splattered with ink: “Hey! Zhang Li, what are you doing?”

The Chinese teacher heard the commotion, stopped, and called both students up to demonstrate a question on the board. From that moment on, Zhang Li feared to lift his head.

This little interlude became the background noise. Huo Ye coolly spun his pen, saying to Shen Tingyu, “Actually, your thought process is correct; this question does indeed require selecting the first option. I completed it earlier.”

Shen Tingyu: “…”

Unbelievable, “Then why did you say I was wrong?”

“Because this is a way to get you to speak to me as fast as possible.” Huo Ye said with righteous indignation.

Shen Tingyu: “…”

He was expressionless, calmly stating, “Are you crazy?”

Although Huo Ye had bested Shen Tingyu in Chinese, he had to concede defeat in all subsequent science subjects.

He was extremely biased, especially in math and physics; his scores were incredibly unstable. Sometimes he could barely reach a satisfactory level when questions presented as simple, but on days when he was unlucky, it wouldn’t be surprising for him to drop below the passing line.

Due to his family background, Huo Ye had been burdened with a lot of pressure from a young age, leaving him little time for studies; he only had a solid foundation in basics, but if the question strayed too far from the norm, he would find himself at a loss. Conversely, Shen Tingyu excelled in science.

Thus, with a bold face, Huo Ye sought his help. During breaks, he would bring a notebook of wrong questions and continuously ask—

“Young Master, how do you do this problem? I can’t find the approach.”

“Young Master, I don’t know this one either; could you teach me?”

“Young Master, look…”

“Young Master, Young Master?”

“Young Master.”

…

Shen Tingyu was bombarded with the term “Young Master,” making him feel dizzy, like Sun Wukong under Tang Seng’s spells. He wished he could use his golden staff to knock him out but felt entirely helpless.

Huo Ye had figured out that Shen Tingyu couldn’t resist being provoked. If he refused to explain the problem, Huo Ye would push him, saying things like “Are you unable to do it? With your intelligence, you should solve it in a few minutes,” which would inevitably prompt Shen Tingyu to snatch the notebook and start explaining.

For several days, Huo Ye exploited Shen Tingyu this way. Shen Tingyu would curse him, calling him a fool, the most useless person in the world, while simultaneously assisting the most useless person in world mathematics until he almost drained himself dry.

Shen Tingyu had a habit when explaining—after finishing a long segment, he would unconsciously lick his lips.

The way he licked his lips had a certain indescribable, natural allure, and if Huo Ye had to use a metaphor, he would liken it to a ragdoll cat digging its head into a bowl of water, pink tongue rolling up to catch water, then licking around its wet mouth—cute but graceful.

Huo Ye loved watching him perform this little lip-licking habit and would intentionally lead Shen Tingyu to talk a lot until he became parched.

“Do you want some water? I’ve got it ready; it’s not hot.” Huo Ye pushed the cup towards him, his gaze fixed.

Shen Tingyu muttered “oh,” realizing he was indeed thirsty. He took Huo Ye’s cup to pour it into his, but just before pouring, he suddenly paused and turned serious, asking, “Wait, you haven’t drunk from this, right?”

Huo Ye replied, “No, it’s very clean.”

Only then did Shen Tingyu pour it in, tilting his head back to drink. He gulped a bit too fast, and a few drops spilled onto his chin, his adam’s apple bobbing. Huo Ye simply stared at him without moving.

After drinking, Shen Tingyu noticed Huo Ye’s intense gaze. He placed the cup down and turned back, frowning, “What are you looking at me for?”

Huo Ye, lazily, without blinking, replied, “How would you know what I’m looking at if you don’t look at me?”

Shen Tingyu shot him a glare and stopped talking to him.

Lunch was had in the school cafeteria. As soon as the class ended, the students rushed out of the classroom like madmen. Huo Ye silently thought that if he ever had to fight for eggs in the future, he wouldn’t go to the same supermarket as them.

When the bell rang, he still had one problem he hadn’t finished. He had nearly worked out the process; only the answer remained elusive.

Huo Ye initially planned to finish before going to eat but suddenly felt something hard poke at his side. Turning his head slightly, he saw Shen Tingyu holding a pen, somewhat awkwardly stating, “Aren’t you going to eat?”

Huo Ye paused, turned to face him, and took the pen from him, smiling as he asked, “What? You want me to keep you company?”

Listen to that, what kind of talk was that!

The illustrious Shen Tingyu needed someone to accompany him for meals?

“I won’t eat if you don’t.” Shen Tingyu got up to leave.

Huo Ye reacted quickly, grabbing his wrist and effortlessly pulling him back. Shen Tingyu stumbled two steps toward Huo Ye due to momentum, nearly hitting him, but despite that, he resolutely didn’t look back, remaining incredibly stubborn.

“Eat, let’s eat together. I’ll accompany you to the cafeteria.” Huo Ye tugged at his wrist, shaking it like comforting a child and also stood up.

Shen Tingyu didn’t remember how to get to the cafeteria; after all, he was a new transfer student who had just arrived and didn’t like asking others for directions, nor did he want to appear too ignorant.

Huo Ye shoved his hands into the pockets of his school pants and strolled leisurely ahead, while everyone else rushed to the cafeteria, they walked at a slow pace.

Going to the cafeteria too early meant a lot of people and a long line; around 12:30 was just right, so they arrived when meals were being served, and there were seats available since everyone else was mostly finished and washing dishes.

Huo Ye didn’t like meat, so when there was a big chicken leg today, he didn’t even glance at it; while Shen Tingyu was the typical carnivore who not only wanted to order two big chicken legs but also desired three meat dishes. He noticed Huo Ye’s light meal and moderated his order to just one big chicken leg. Shen Tingyu felt inexplicably that he was eating more than Huo Ye, making him feel like a foolish glutton.

But in all fairness, Huo Ye had never thought like that.