Don't hold me back

The echoes of the evening study bell hadn't yet faded when Xu Dai reappeared at the classroom door. She adjusted her glasses, her gaze landing precisely on the back row.

"Xing Jiayan, Fang Chi, you two come here for a moment."

Fang Chi's heart sank, and he slowed down his packing. Xing Jiayan, on the other hand, stood up decisively, his face expressionless.

In the office, Xu Dai pushed a list in front of them.

"The city's physics competition starts next month, and the school requires all second-year high school students to form teams to participate." Her gaze swept between the two of them. "You two, you'll be in one team."

Fang Chi suddenly looked up and met Xu Dai's unquestionable gaze.

"Teacher Xu, I..."

“This is the best combination,” Xu Dai interrupted him. “Xing Jiayan has a solid theoretical foundation, and Fang Chi, your thinking is flexible. Complementing each other’s weaknesses will allow us to maximize our strengths.”

Xing Jiayan glanced at Fang Chi's tense profile and said calmly, "I have no objection."

“I have an objection,” Fang Chi retorted almost immediately. “I can form my own team.”

Xu Dai frowned: "This is a notification, not a discussion. The competition results are related to the school's honor and your individual admission eligibility. Don't let personal emotions affect important matters."

That last sentence was like a needle, precisely piercing Fang Chi's weak spot. He pursed his lips and said nothing more.

Stepping out of the office, Fang Chi found the corridor deserted. He walked quickly ahead, eager to shake off the person behind him.

"You really don't want to be in a group with me?"

Xing Jiayan's voice came from behind, carrying a somewhat ambiguous meaning.

Fang Chi suddenly stopped and turned to look at him: "Do you think we're suitable to be teammates?"

The dim light from the corridor lamp cast flickering shadows on Xing Jiayan's face. He took a step forward, closing the distance between them.

"Whether it's suitable or not, you'll only know after trying." His gaze fell on Fang Chi's clenched fist. "Or are you afraid?"

These words completely ignited Fang Chi's suppressed anger.

"What am I afraid of?" he asked through gritted teeth.

Xing Jiayan leaned forward slightly, his voice low but clear:

"Afraid of holding me back."

The air seemed to freeze at that moment.

Fang Chi's pupils contracted sharply. These words struck him like a heavy hammer blow. All the embarrassment, resentment, and anger erupted in that instant. He grabbed Xing Jiayan by the collar and slammed him against the corridor wall.

"Say it again?"

His voice trembled with excitement, and his eyes reddened uncontrollably.

Xing Jiayan was pinned against the wall, but surprisingly, he didn't resist. He just quietly looked at Fang Chi, at the hurt and anger surging in those eyes that were always wary and stubborn.

“I said,” Xing Jiayan’s voice remained calm, even with a strange patience, “I’m afraid you’ll hold me back.”

Fang Chi's fists clenched so tightly they cracked, and he almost couldn't control himself from swinging them.

“But,” Xing Jiayan suddenly changed the subject, looking directly into Fang Chi’s eyes, “I’m more afraid that you’ll give up the opportunity to prove yourself because of this kind of pointless pride.”

Fang Chi was stunned.

Xing Jiayan gently pushed away the hand that was still clutching her collar and straightened her wrinkled school uniform.

“Starting tomorrow, we’ll discuss the competition problems in the library seminar room every evening.” His tone had returned to its usual indifference, as if the provocation from before had never been uttered. “Don’t be late.”

After saying that, he turned and walked towards the stairwell, leaving Fang Chi standing there alone, his mind in turmoil.

Xing Jiayan's words echoed repeatedly in his mind: "I'm afraid you'll hold me back." A sense of humiliation surged up like a tide, but strangely, beneath it, an even stronger emotion was stirring.

Prove yourself.

He wanted to prove to Xing Jiayan that Fang Chi was no burden to anyone.

After evening self-study, Fang Chi practically fled back to his rented apartment. He tossed his heavy schoolbag onto the chair, as if trying to throw away all the tension and embarrassment that had accumulated throughout the day.

The room was quiet, save for the occasional sound of traffic outside the window. He opened his laptop, the cold light of the screen once again becoming the sole source of light in this small space. Without a second thought, he habitually logged into the forum called "Observatory." At that moment, he desperately needed an outlet, and the like-minded stranger "Yan" on the other end of the internet seemed to be the only option.

His fingers hovered over the keyboard for a moment, then, with a hint of venting, began to type rapidly.

Chaos: Are you there? Today was... truly bizarre.

He didn't expect the other party to reply so quickly.

Yan: Yes. What's wrong?

Chaos: Do you remember the guy I mentioned to you yesterday who embarrassed me in the classroom?

Yan: Hmm. I was very impressed.

Chaos: When bad luck strikes, there's no stopping it. Our homeroom teacher, for some inexplicable reason, switched us to be deskmates today! Can you believe it?!

Even through the screen, Fang Chi could imagine the distorted expression on his face. He had no idea that the person on the other end of the internet was reading this message, and what kind of smile might be playing on their lips.

Yan: Desk mate? That sounds... very challenging.

Chaos: This is more than just a challenge! It's torture! The atmosphere was so awkward it could freeze you to death all day. I had to carefully control my breathing, afraid of disturbing the "god" next to me.

He paused, recalling the geometry problem and the subsequent group discussion, and added with mixed feelings.

Chaos: But... it's strange. This guy can be really annoying sometimes, arrogant, and his words can drive you crazy. But... in some ways, he's frighteningly perceptive.

Yan: For example?

Chaos: For example, during our evening study group discussions, we actually...cooperated quite well. He seemed to be able to guess where I was stuck, and with just a little guidance, I could suddenly understand. Moreover, he even apologized to me today for what happened yesterday.

Yan: Apologize? That's not like the "arrogant" guy you described would do.

Chaos: Right! I find it unbelievable too! He even handed me a thermos, saying it was an apology. It was jasmine tea... I didn't even tell him I like tea.

As Fang Chi typed these words, he subconsciously glanced at the light blue thermos he had placed in the corner of his desk. The lid was tightly closed, but a delicate aroma of tea seemed to linger within.

Yan: Maybe he's not as unapproachable as he seems?

Chaos: Who knows? Maybe it was just a whim of a top student to give me a handout? Or maybe it's just another way for him to show off his superiority? After all, he's number one in the grade, and I'll always be just a little bit behind him.

His words revealed a subtle sense of concern and loss that even he himself was unaware of.

There was a few seconds of silence on the other end of the network.

Yan: Grades don't tell the whole story. The uniqueness of your thinking is equally valuable, like the approach you took to solve that problem yesterday.

Upon seeing this sentence, Fang Chi felt a gentle touch on his heart. It was that feeling of being understood and affirmed again. Only when talking with Yan could he experience this pure, intellectually-based respect and resonance.

Chaos: I wish my deskmate thought like you. Yesterday he was quite blunt, saying I was "too inefficient" and "taking the long way around."

Yan: ...Perhaps he didn't mean any harm at the time, he was just not good at expressing himself?

Chaos: Why do you always defend him? Fang Chi couldn't help but purse his lips, his fingers pounding on the keyboard. You don't even know him!

After sending the message, Fang Chi felt inexplicably relieved, as if the small dissatisfaction he couldn't vent on Xing Jiayan in real life had been transferred to this netizen who always tried to give "objective" evaluations.

This time, Yan's reply took a little longer.

Yan: Hmm, I don't know him. I'm just making some reasonable guesses based on your description.

Yan: But now that we're deskmates, running away isn't an option. Maybe we could try... peaceful coexistence? After all, we'll be spending a long time together.

Chaos: You make that sound so easy… Fang Chi sighed. Just thinking about having to face him tomorrow gives me a headache. It feels like there's a ticking time bomb sitting next to me, and one of those super high achievers at that.

Yan: Looking at it from another perspective, having an equally matched opponent by your side might motivate you to become stronger.

Chaos: I understand the logic... Forget it, let's not talk about this anymore, it's annoying to even think about it. Let's talk about something else.

Fang Chi skillfully changed the subject, drawing his attention back to the academic discussions that brought him peace and pleasure. Only in these abstract concepts and formulas could he temporarily forget the troubles of reality, and the classmate who was causing him so much distress.

He was so engrossed in his intellectual exchange with Yan that he was completely unaware that the source of his "headache," the classmate he was complaining about, was sitting at his own desk, the light from the screen illuminating his face, which held a hint of helplessness and a faint smile.

Xing Jiayan looked at the new question sent by "Chaos" in the chat box, then glanced at the dark blue thermos cup that he had placed beside him, the same one on Fang Chi's desk, and gently tapped his fingertips on the keyboard to reply.

Yan: Regarding that part, my understanding is...

As night deepened, two online IDs, one carrying a small complaint and unresolved confusion, and the other harboring a secret unknown to anyone and patient guidance, once again immersed themselves in their own pure world of thought.

In reality, the chasm that separated the two seemed to be quietly and subtly connected by an invisible internet cable within this peculiar "triangle" relationship. Before shutting down his computer, Fang Chi took one last look at his chat history with Yan, and the irritation he felt because of Xing Jiayan strangely subsided considerably.

"At least online, there's someone who understands me," he murmured to himself, a hint of unnoticed comfort in his voice, as he lay down on the bed.

Meanwhile, Xing Jiayan, looking at the final "I see!" message from "Chaos" on the screen, shook his head slightly and chuckled softly.

"Fool."

The first group discussion was scheduled for Wednesday evening. Fang Chi deliberately arrived five minutes late, and when he pushed open the door to the seminar room, Xing Jiayan was already there. The whiteboard was covered with complex formulas, and he was working on something with his head down, his focused profile clearly visible under the light.

Hearing the door open, Xing Jiayan didn't even look up: "I'm late."

Fang Chi slammed his schoolbag down on the chair: "I forgot."

“An excuse.” Xing Jiayan finally looked up and pushed a printed document in front of him. “Read these questions first, and we’ll discuss them in half an hour.”

It was a completely new physics model, involving content they hadn't yet learned. Fang Chi glanced through it briefly, his brows furrowing deeper and deeper.

"This is beyond the syllabus."

“Competitions aren’t limited to just the outline,” Xing Jiayan said, twirling his pen. “Or is it that you don’t understand it?”

That provocative tone again. Fang Chi took a deep breath, suppressed his anger, and picked up the documents to begin reading them carefully.

At first, he was somewhat resistant, but he was quickly drawn in by the problem itself. It was a difficult problem about the motion of particles in an electromagnetic field, and the conventional solution was extremely cumbersome. He unconsciously became engrossed in it, scribbling and drawing on the draft paper.

“Here,” Xing Jiayan appeared behind him at some point, pointing to an equation he had just written down, “it can be simplified using a gauge transformation.”

His breath brushed against Fang Chi's ear, bringing a slight tingling sensation. Fang Chi subconsciously wanted to look away, but his attention was drawn to the ideas on the whiteboard.

“But normative invariance introduces additional degrees of freedom…” he subconsciously retorted.

“Therefore, we need to fix the standard conditions.” Xing Jiayan picked up where he left off, quickly writing down a supplementary equation on the draft paper. “This will eliminate redundancy.”

Fang Chi stared at the concise and elegant expression, his eyes widening slightly. He had never considered this line of thought before, yet it had instantly opened up all the possibilities.

"Where did you learn this method?" he couldn't help but ask.

Xing Jiayan didn't answer directly, but instead took out a thick notebook from his bag and handed it to him: "These are my notes, you can borrow them."

Fang Chi took the notebook, and upon opening the first page, he saw the familiar starry sky pattern and the cursive "Y" in the lower right corner. His fingertips trembled slightly as he looked up at Xing Jiayan.

The other person had already returned to their seat and continued their calculations, as if their previous action was perfectly natural.

The discussion that night was unexpectedly efficient. They debated, questioned, and complemented each other's ideas, sparks of thought colliding fiercely in the small seminar room. By the time the last problem was solved, the clock on the wall had already struck ten.

Looking at the densely packed formulas on the whiteboard, Fang Chi suddenly recalled his conversation with Yan last night. That online friend, whom he had never met, had also analyzed the problem from a similar angle, only not with Xing Jiayan's... aggressive approach.

"Aren't you leaving yet?" Xing Jiayan's voice interrupted his thoughts.

Fang Chi snapped out of his daze and began packing his things. Reaching the door, he hesitated for a moment before speaking:

"Tomorrow night, shall we continue?"

Xing Jiayan was locking the door when he heard this, he paused, and turned to look at him. Under the corridor light, the corners of his mouth seemed to curve slightly upward.

"Okay, don't be late."

This time, Fang Chi did not refute.

Walking home, the night breeze was slightly cool. Fang Chi took out his phone and opened his chat with Yan. Their last conversation was last night, when he complained about how difficult his deskmate was to get along with, and Yan patiently comforted him.

He hesitated for a long time, and finally slowly typed out a line:

Chaos: Maybe you're right, he's not that difficult to get along with.

After clicking send, he turned off his phone and looked up at the night sky. The stars twinkled, like the pattern etched on the pen and notebook.

Not far away, Xing Jiayan's phone screen lit up. He looked at the new message, smiled slightly, and put his phone back in his pocket.