章節 8: Too Many People Wear a Mask
Before dawn, Shen Ting had already risen early and headed to the kitchen.
She prepared a pot of porridge, fried three eggs, reheated some buns from the fridge, and set the table for breakfast.
Shen Ting went upstairs to wake Fang Qin and Fang Kelu. Remembering last night's egg-fried rice, they got up without much delay.
The walk from the Fang residence to Yizhong High School was only twenty minutes. Not wanting to waste money on a bus, Shen Ting quickly finished her breakfast, grabbed her backpack, and stepped out the door.
On the early morning street, there were office workers and students riding electric bikes and walking. Though Shen Ting still kept her head down out of habit, the feeling of inferiority and timidity no longer weighed on her.
[Scan complete: Fifty meters ahead, a pregnant woman has fallen. Helping others brings joy. If the host assists the woman, the system will award five points. ]
The sudden voice in her head startled Shen Ting so much that she almost yelped. She frowned, greatly disagreeing with Venus 001. She had never found helping others to be a source of happiness.
In her past life, Shen Ting had helped many, but none ever thanked her. Upon seeing her face, they first showed astonishment, then disgust, swatting away her hand and walking off. Some, with worse tempers, even cursed her as an ugly freak.
But for the sake of points, Shen Ting looked ahead at the crowd, none of whom offered help to the struggling pregnant woman. She lifted her foot and walked over.
With one hand supporting the woman's arm and the other around her waist, Shen Ting took a deep breath and helped her up in one go. The woman gasped in surprise before realizing someone had come to her aid. She quickly turned and thanked Shen Ting.
Upon seeing Shen Ting's appearance, the woman hesitated briefly, but soon, filled with gratitude, she thanked her several times.
Shen Ting, encountering such a reaction for the first time, felt a bit flustered at the woman's grateful smile.
"Young lady, what's your name? Could I get your phone number? I'd love to treat you to a meal sometime," said the woman, who had been on the ground for almost half an hour without anyone helping her up.
Had it not been for this unassuming girl, she didn't know how long she would have stayed on the ground.
Shen Ting, hearing the system's notification of points being credited, shook her head as she looked at the woman's delicate face. "It was just a small favor. I'm running late for school, so I must go."
"Huh?" The woman watched as Shen Ting turned to leave. She took a step forward but quickly withdrew it, remembering she was still waiting for someone. Frustrated, she muttered, "Where on earth is my husband?"
Shen Ting continued walking straight ahead without looking back. At the corner, she couldn't help but glance over her shoulder. A man had joined the woman, looking remorseful. The woman said something to him.
The man glanced in Shen Ting's direction, and she quickly slipped out of sight. That must be her family, Shen Ting thought. It's good that someone came to help her.
There were still fifteen minutes until morning self-study. As Shen Ting walked through the gates of Yizhong High School, she saw groups of energetic students walking in pairs, laughing under the morning sun. In contrast, Shen Ting walked alone, her solitary figure emphasizing her loneliness.
The third-year honors class always began their morning study ten minutes earlier than other classes. Shen Ting walked into the classroom with her head held high and her steps steady, neither hurried nor slow.
Her confident demeanor, so unlike her usual timid self, instantly drew the attention of her classmates.
Zhang Lan, the class president and school beauty, wore an off-white dress adorned with tiny floral patterns. Her ponytail swayed as she walked, exuding the fresh charm of youth.
As Zhang Lan approached Shen Ting, the contrast between the two was stark—Shen Ting, like the dirty mud on the ground, appeared ugly and insignificant.
"Shen Ting, are you alright? You must be heartbroken over your grandmother's passing," Zhang Lan asked with a concerned expression, playing the role of a caring class president.
Looking at her smiling face, Shen Ting couldn't help but recall the day in the dark restroom when Zhang had incited her followers to viciously beat her with a mop—a face of hypocrisy.
"I'm fine," Shen Ting replied coolly, brushing past her and sitting down at her desk.
Zhang Lan stood frozen, her smile stiffening. A trace of malice flickered in her eyes. That filthy sewer rat, how dare she talk to me like that? She must be tired of living.
Shen Ting took out her English book and began silently reading.
Having been given a second chance at life, Shen Ting was determined not to repeat her past mistakes, such as attending a third-rate high school. She was grateful she had been reborn in her third year of middle school, not her third year of high school.
Middle school content was far simpler than high school, and Shen Ting was confident that if she kept pace with the teacher's review sessions, her exam results would be decent.
The bell for morning self-study rang alongside the sound of students reading aloud. The strict homeroom teacher entered the class, casting a glance around to ensure no one was misbehaving. Satisfied, he nodded.
His gaze lingered on Shen Ting for a moment before he stepped down from the platform and walked toward her, knocking on her desk.
"Shen Ting, step outside with me for a moment." Shen Ting looked up at the gleaming bald head of the teacher, caught in the light, and stood, following him outside under the curious gaze of her classmates.
The teacher's name was Yan Ge, a fitting name for a strict homeroom teacher. Behind his back, the students had given him the nickname "Yan Xie"—a nod to his severe hair loss.
Shen Ting remembered Yan Ge quite well, not because he was particularly talented or passionate about teaching, but because she had once caught him accepting expensive gifts from a parent, his face alight with greed.
That smile, so different from his usual stern demeanor, had stuck with Shen Ting. There were indeed too many people in this world who were two-faced.
"Shen Ting, death is a natural part of life. I hope you can pull yourself together and face the upcoming exams. Your grandmother's spirit would be at peace knowing you're doing well, wouldn't she?" Yan Ge spoke from a distance, two steps away, his concern sounding hollow.
Shen Ting noticed the approaching dean and realized why the teacher had pulled her aside.
Each semester, teachers were evaluated. Half the score depended on their teaching performance, and the other half on their relationship with students.
Yan Ge, who rarely interacted with students, always scrambled at the end of each term to find a few to put on a show in front of the dean.
In the past, Shen Ting had been one of his chosen students, touched by his fake concern, completely unaware she was part of an act.
Yan Ge's high evaluation scores had a lot to do with Shen Ting's naïveté.
Yan Ge was a typical opportunist. He showed special treatment to students whose parents gave him gifts, while those like Shen Ting, poor and struggling academically, were met with cold indifference. She was always assigned the thankless chores.
In her past life, Shen Ting would have been deeply moved by his so-called encouragement. Now? She let out a cold laugh.
"Teacher, I can't," she said softly, her voice trembling as tears welled up in her eyes.
The dean, now standing nearby, looked suspiciously at Yan Ge, stopping in his tracks.
Yan Ge's face momentarily twitched in irritation, but knowing the dean was watching, he forced himself to remain gentle. "There's nothing you can't do. Just endure it, and it will pass. Trust me, it's for your own good."
"But... I feel like it's not right," Shen Ting replied, a hint of struggle crossing her face, knowing the conversation was taking a strange turn.
The dean's expression darkened as he approached, sensing something amiss. Yan Ge, now visibly uncomfortable, continued, "There's nothing wrong with it. You need to think about your future. Don't you want to improve your grades?" His tone betrayed impatience.
Shen Ting shrank back, and the dean, frowning, stepped between them. "Mr. Yan, I need to speak with you in the office. As for you, young lady, return to your class," he said coldly.
Shen Ting glanced at the confused Yan Ge and, with her head lowered, walked back into the classroom. I hope you're ready for the dean's wrath, she thought.
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