Pride Must Be Discarded, but the Backbone Remains

"You dare!"

Ailiya flared up at these words, standing her ground without backing down. She couldn't believe her classmate would disregard their friendship so easily, even going as far as threatening her over some ordinary new student.

The sheer audacity left her both stunned and furious.

Witnessing this, the other students in the classroom exchanged shocked glances. No one had expected these two senior girls to clash so openly in their classroom.

But what awaited Ailiya was the increasingly stern and resolute gaze of the Disciplinary Committee Member.

"Fine. Since you refuse to listen, I’ll have to document this incident and report it to the school."

As she spoke, the Disciplinary Committee Member solemnly lifted the folder she was holding, poised to open it and make a record.

Seeing this, Ailiya’s heart raced, but she stubbornly retorted, "Do whatever you want."

Then, as if to vent her anger, she added with a spiteful sneer, "Hmph, now I finally see why no one in class likes you. You really are this insufferable! No wonder you’re always alone!"

The Disciplinary Committee Member remained unfazed, continuing to jot down notes as if Ailiya’s words meant nothing.

But Su Cheng, standing nearby, noticed the brief pause in her writing. Clearly, she wasn’t as indifferent as she appeared.

"Ding-dong~"

The class bell rang. The Disciplinary Committee Member snapped her folder shut and reached out to grab Ailiya’s wrist, intending to drag her away forcefully. "Come with me to class now!"

"Don’t touch me!" Ailiya yanked her hand free and stormed out of the classroom.

Perhaps she knew that if she kept making a scene, she’d only end up worse off—so she chose to leave on her own.

Watching Ailiya flee, the Disciplinary Committee Member narrowed her eyes.

"If any of you face similar issues, you can report them to me. I’ll handle it."

With that brief but firm statement, she hurried after Ailiya.

The classroom erupted in murmurs—

"Ugh, what a mess to get tangled in."

"Still, gotta admit, those two seniors are pretty."

"Rumor has it Ailiya hates men. You still dare to eye her?"

"Who said I was? Just making an observation..."

As the teacher entered, the class settled back into silence.

Meanwhile, Su Cheng lowered his head and pulled out his phone, quickly messaging Cornelia to brief her on what had happened. He didn’t want her barging in after class to confront him again.

After sending the message, he glanced around the room, mentally noting the classmates who had spoken up for him.

Sure, they’d never need help from someone like him—an ordinary guy—but he’d remember their kindness regardless.

"Marking it down in my little notebook."

"That guy over there..."

"And the blonde Disciplinary Committee Member—noted."

"Li Guanqin was the one who brought the Disciplinary Committee Member..."

"Wait, does that mean I owe her two favors now?"

Su Cheng groaned inwardly. He hadn’t even repaid the last one, and now he was in deeper debt.

What a tangled fate.

"Huh? Why’s everyone staring at me?"

Suddenly, Su Cheng realized the whole class was watching him. Confused, he turned toward the front—only to meet the teacher’s exasperated glare.

"Second day of school, and you’re already slacking off."

The teacher rapped the desk, his tone stern. "You seem awfully confident. Have you already mastered everything I’ve taught?"

"Teacher, that’s Su Cheng—the top-scoring transfer student," a classmate chimed in.

Hearing this, the teacher adjusted his glasses, scrutinized Su Cheng, then tapped the desk again. "Past achievements don’t guarantee present success. History is full of wasted prodigies. Do you want to be the next?"

"No!" Su Cheng answered promptly.

"Then come up here and solve this problem!"

The teacher pointed to the blackboard.

Su Cheng stood, glanced at the question, and recognized it instantly—a basic algebra problem, one he’d solved countless times in practice books.

Still, even though he’d done it hundreds of times, he couldn’t afford carelessness now. With the whole class watching, he had to strike a balance—neither showing off nor disrespecting the teacher. So, he opted for the most conventional method.

"Swish, swish, swish—"

At the board, he grabbed the chalk and dashed out the answer in swift strokes, flawlessly concise. Then he turned and said politely, "Teacher, it’s done."

But instead of dismissing him, the teacher and the class just stared at him oddly.

Su Cheng was baffled. Was there something wrong?

Did rich kids not use standard solutions?

"I asked everyone to independently find the optimal approach and solve it. Copying the method I just erased is hardly impressive, don’t you think?"

The teacher’s voice carried mild reproach.

Su Cheng inhaled sharply. So this was the elite school experience—already cranking up the difficulty.

He took a deep breath and apologized again. "Sorry, teacher. I took a shortcut."

"If you pride yourself on being a top scorer, then prove it. Don’t hold back—show us every method and insight you have." The teacher waved a hand dismissively. "The class is waiting."

Su Cheng hesitated briefly, scanning the room. Their eager, expectant faces warmed his heart.

Well, if the teacher insisted...

He focused, picked up the chalk, and let his skills flow freely across the board.

"Swish, swish, swish—"

His writing was so fast it left no room for thought. The class gaped, jaws slack, as his hand flew across the board.

"Whoa—"

Some students couldn’t even follow, but the sheer complexity of the formulas radiating from the blackboard was enough to leave them awestruck. Murmurs of amazement filled the room.

Everyone was stunned by Su Cheng’s display. Those who could grasp the concepts were even more electrified—as if a hidden path had suddenly opened before them, revealing a whole new world of understanding.

Like the girl with braided hair and Li Guanqi, whose wide eyes sparkled with admiration as they tracked the boy’s every move on the podium.

"So this is what a top scorer looks like?"

"This... problem-solving approach is truly refreshing."

After a brief moment of stunned silence, the students couldn't help but start discussing, their voices growing louder and louder.

"Teacher, I've finished writing."

Su Cheng had already moved to the edge of the blackboard and turned to glance at the teacher somewhat sheepishly.

The teacher stared at the blackboard for a while, his expression unchanged, before glaring at Su Cheng.

"So, you think your elementary math knowledge is solid enough to jump into advanced math, huh? Fine, if you don’t want to use the extended Euclidean algorithm for this problem, I’ll let it slide—maybe you found it too easy. But if you can prove it using Bézout's identity, I’ll give you an 'Excellent' rating."

As he spoke, his tone grew stern, and he tapped the teaching rod against several steps of the proof on the blackboard.

"At this stage, our main goal is to achieve results using limited tools. Solving problems with advanced methods just means the tools are powerful—it doesn’t reflect your own ability. And for this problem, as far as I know, there are at least twenty different approaches within the syllabus."

"Listen up, all of you!" The teacher rapped the blackboard again. "Mathematics is the foundation of all foundational subjects. Don’t dismiss what you’re learning now as just 'elementary math.' At a school like ours, we need to identify truly intelligent individuals, not just those who’ve memorized a lot. And math is the best tool for that. Understood?"

"Understood!"

"Good. You may return to your seat. This time, your grade is a B+. I hope next time you’ll surprise me differently."

The teaching standards of this elite school really were something else.

With that, Su Cheng awkwardly left the podium and headed back to his seat. Notably, the way his classmates looked at him had changed.

Huh. It seemed he’d gained their attention.

"Ding ling ling—"

The bell for the end of class rang abruptly. Half the students in the room turned their gazes toward Su Cheng.

But Su Cheng’s eyes were fixed on the door, worried that the brown-haired senior might barge in and drag him out by the collar again.

However, the senior never showed. Instead, a classmate approached him.

"Su Cheng, may I ask who your private tutor is?"

The speaker was the class math representative, someone named Ye Zhuchen—average-looking, with dark skin and a simple, honest demeanor.

But he was no ordinary student.

The moment he spoke, the classroom fell silent.

All eyes locked onto Su Cheng.

Even the girl with braids in the front row perked up her ears.

"Sorry," Su Cheng paused, then smiled. "I’ve never had a tutor. I just practice a lot, review my mistakes, reflect, summarize, and take notes to build up my skills."

His answer, however, only deepened the confusion among his classmates. They began whispering among themselves, as if dissecting his words.

"No way, he’s never had a tutor?!"

"Does that mean he’s just naturally gifted?"

"Impossible. Then how come he doesn’t know some of the taught material?"

"Self-taught?"

"That kind of talent is just unreal..."

Hearing the murmurs, Su Cheng quickly steadied himself. After a moment of thought, he understood.

For ordinary families, grinding through practice problems was a common way to improve academically. But for the wealthy, it was pointless—hiring tutors was far more effective, and they didn’t even have to worry about college admissions. They could get into any elite school they wanted.

So, for them, endless practice problems only added unnecessary stress and fatigue. It was practically useless.

"I just work through exercise books whenever I have time," Su Cheng explained earnestly.

"Oh..."

The math representative nodded half-understandingly, though his face still showed traces of doubt. Still, he asked curiously, "Could you bring one of your exercise books for me to take a look at?"

"Sure, I can bring one tomorrow."

Su Cheng had no reason to refuse. After all, this guy had spoken up for him during the whole Ailiya incident.

"Bring one for me too."

"And me."

"Same here, please."

Seeing this, the rest of the class couldn’t resist joining in.

"Alright, I’ll bring them tomorrow."

Su Cheng noted down each request, then stood up with an apologetic nod and walked out of the classroom. At the end of the hallway, he gazed outside, a sudden sense of melancholy washing over him.

Looks like staying invisible wasn’t an option anymore.

Now, he had no choice but to maintain his "genius student" persona.

"Please take the trouble to bring me an exercise book as well. Thank you."

Just then, a faint, elegant fragrance reached him, followed by a soft yet composed female voice.

Su Cheng turned to see the literature-loving girl from earlier, Li Guanqin, standing nearby with a slight nod. Her delicate face remained expressionless, as if she hadn’t just made a request.

"Li Guanqin? You startled me."

Su Cheng was surprised but also pleased—this was a chance to return a favor. Without hesitation, he replied, "Sure, no problem. I’ll bring it for you tomorrow morning."

But her reaction caught him off guard.

Her fine brows furrowed slightly, as if troubled, before she gently corrected him: "It’s Li Guanqi."

"My apologies, Li Guanqi."

Su Cheng smiled sheepishly.

"The 'qi' as in the game of Go."

Her frown deepened, and she corrected him again.

Wait, what?

How did she know I was thinking of a different "qi"?

Does she have mind-reading powers?!

Or had she corrected him before and was just emphasizing it now?

Her reaction left him utterly baffled, but he quickly amended, "Got it, Li Guanqi."