Chapter 37 When will you be willing to talk to me?
With National Day approaching, the school suddenly announced that each class had to create a blackboard newspaper about National Day. They also said that students would be assigned to grade the blackboard newspapers, and the class with the highest score would receive a prize.
Upon hearing about the reward, Lao Guan immediately instructed Wen Jiu to find students to do it, and he specifically emphasized that if the work was done well, both the individual and the group would receive additional rewards.
At first, the group of people didn't even look up when they heard about making a blackboard newspaper, but they instantly became interested when they heard about increasing the quantity of tasks.
"Do you add it even if it's drawn as a blob?" a boy asked.
The class burst into laughter.
"Are there any specific requirements?" A girl in the front row raised her hand.
"Combining painting and calligraphy can promote our traditional Chinese culture."
"And calligraphy too?"
Upon hearing Wen Jiu's words, the group of people suddenly looked troubled.
There are a few art students in the class, but I've never heard of any of them practicing calligraphy.
Wen Jiu watched as the people began to discuss, her gaze unconsciously falling on the figure in the back row. Grandpa Zhou loved calligraphy; the study was always filled with the scent of ink, and Xuan paper was often laid out on the mahogany desk. From as far back as she could remember, Zhou Yanchuan had been made to practice in a chair.
The character "砚" in his name also comes from this.
He had participated in countless calligraphy competitions since childhood, but he hadn't touched anything since Aunt Ning passed away.
She wanted to invite him to participate, but...
Wen Jiu unconsciously clenched her fists. These past few days, she had been trying every trick in the book to avoid him, making up various excuses to go to and from school with him. It would be strange if she suddenly looked for him now. Besides, she didn't know if he would agree to write it.
When Wen Jiu got home in the evening, after finishing her homework, she picked up her phone as usual.
His previously nonchalant expression froze when he saw the phone screen.
Because Zhou Yanchuan sent her a message ten minutes earlier.
zyc: "Aren't you going to tell me?"
She pursed her lips.
"say what?"
Zhou Yanchuan stared at the message on his phone screen, a slight twitch at the corner of his lips. He knew what it meant when he noticed her gaze during self-study.
He remained calm and refused to talk to him.
Wen Jiu regretted sending the message as soon as she did. Since he asked, he must have guessed it already, and she was still asking a question she already knew the answer to.
As she was poking at the chat bubble, debating whether to retract the message, another message suddenly popped up on her phone screen.
zyc: "You don't want my help, do you?"
Wen Jiu tightened her grip on her phone. Even though she had expected him to guess, her heart still skipped a beat when she saw him say it so bluntly.
This time, instead of pretending to be confused, she sent a simple "Hmm".
The moment she sent the message, she received a reply with just two simple and concise words.
"I won't help."
"..."
Then tell her these things.
Zhou Yanchuan watched as the person on the other end of the line typed "typing" for several minutes without sending the next message, and a smile curved his lips.
You can easily imagine her expression right now.
He tapped the screen, about to send her a message, when he received her reply: "We can add more quantification."
"?"
Wen Jiu looked at the question mark and pursed her lips again.
He's already in so much debt, he definitely doesn't care about this.
"Well..." She hesitated for a few seconds, then tapped the screen again.
"What would it take for you to help?"
After Wen Jiu sent the message, there was no immediate reply as before. A few seconds later, the phone in her hand vibrated.
zyc: "What do you think?"
Her fingertips twitched.
Just as I was wondering what that sentence meant, the screen lit up again.
The moment she saw the message, her clear eyes trembled, and she even missed a beat of breathing.
"When will you be willing to talk to me?"
*
These past few days, Zhou Yanchuan has gone over the conversation from that day repeatedly in his mind, but he still can't figure out where the problem lies.
He had considered going back to the girl to ask her clearly, but every time he got there, he would think of the look she gave him at the corner, and he felt a strange tightness in his chest.
Zhou Yanchuan stared at the screen, which had been silent ever since he sent his message, then tossed his phone onto the table, a restlessness he himself hadn't even noticed in his eyes.
By the end of September, it was getting light later than before.
When Wen Jiu left home in the morning, the light in the hallway was a dim blue tone, and there was a chill in the air.
She closed the door and turned around to see Zhou Yanchuan coming out as well.
Her beautiful eyes flickered, and she suddenly remembered the last message he sent yesterday.
Her hands, hanging by her sides, tightened, and she hesitated for a few seconds before asking, "Have you had breakfast?"
A sound echoed in the empty, quiet corridor.
Zhou Yanchuan lifted his eyelids, his eyes dark yet concealing a spark of fire.
Wen Jiu looked at the silent person, her eyelashes fluttering slightly, "If you haven't eaten, I can treat you to a meal."
He remained silent.
Just as she was wondering if he didn't want to talk to her, a sentence suddenly rang in her ears—
What do you want to eat?
She paused for a moment, then asked, "Are Uncle Lin's crystal bags okay?"
"Um."
The two walked towards the elevator together without saying a word. When they reached the bottom of the stairs, a voice came from the side: "Give me the backpack."
Wen Jiu's nose suddenly felt sore.
These past few days, she's thought more than once that it would be better if she didn't like him, so that when he's in a relationship, she can sincerely offer her blessings.
Instead of feeling so bitter now, only daring to get close to him again after the breakup.
*
One autumn rain brings a chill. I don't know when it started, but when I went to clean in the morning, the ground was covered with withered yellow leaves. The temperature seemed to drop suddenly one day. They also ushered in their second monthly exam after the start of the school year.
After the first Chinese exam, the group didn't react much, at most discussing the essay topic. But as soon as the math exam was over, they went crazy, with cheers and groans rising and falling.
"Is your last choice B or C?"
"C."
"I'm B."
"How could it be B?"
"Then it can't be C."
"It's definitely a C, I'll go ask the class monitor."
"What did the class monitor say?"
“D”.
"..."
*
The same reaction occurred with the next few subjects; as soon as the exam was over, I started checking the answers.
Because of the exams, no teachers came to teach during evening self-study; instead, the class representatives for each subject gave out the answers.
The group remained in a state of extreme excitement until the final exam, when everything seemed to have settled down, and suddenly all their energy was drained.
Lin Meng lay on the table: "Finally, the exams are over."
“Yes,” Wen Jiu said, rearranging the books she had put in the drawer again.
"Time flies so fast, it's already winter without me even realizing it."
As the two were talking, Ning Yixue walked over and asked, "How did the exam go?"
"Not bad," Lin Meng sat up straight. "I only got two math multiple-choice questions wrong this time."
"Alright, that's enough," Ning Yixue stopped them, then looked at Wen Jiu and, before anyone could speak, stopped them again: "Xiao Jiu, you're definitely not allowed to say anything more."
Wen Jiu smiled and obediently said, "Okay."
Suddenly remembering something, Lin Meng asked, "Hey, isn't our school going to hold a winter sports meet?"
"They said it would be in two weeks at the last meeting."
"real?"
"Yes."
As the new week begins, every class is preparing for the sports meet. One aspect is the participants, and the other is the class slogan.
Class 9 had nothing but plenty of athleticism, so the participants were quickly decided upon. The only thing they couldn't decide on was their opening slogan.
With the sports meet just around the corner, while other classes were practicing on the playground, their class was still standing there: "Why don't we just pick one randomly?"
"Why not draw lots?"
...
Finally, the day before the sports meet, Class 9 decided on their class slogan. Wen Jiu looked at the words on the blackboard, frowned slightly, and asked uncertainly, "Are we sure we want this?"
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