My English Has a Lot of Room for Improvement, Please Bear with Me

Today, Shen Nian somehow made three hundred bucks and treated Xia Yanchun to KFC.

Xia Yanchun ordered a family bucket, while Shen Nian got two drinks. Eating greasy fried food in this sweltering heat was bound to make them feel overheated.

Though his skin was generally clear, breakouts were unavoidable—even someone with skin as flawless as Xia Yanchun occasionally got a red pimple, like the one on her forehead now, making her look like the mythical Erlang Shen.

Thankfully, the air conditioning in the store helped. Shen Nian, sweating a little, sat under the vent for a while until the stifling heat on his body finally subsided.

But the sweat smell lingered, and all he wanted was to hurry home and take a shower.

"Full yet? We can pack the leftovers for dinner," Shen Nian said, having only eaten one burger himself while sipping his drink and watching Xia Yanchun devour her food like a wild boar.

"Nah, I'm stuffed," Xia Yanchun smacked her lips, peeled off her gloves, clapped her hands clean, took a sip of Coke, and finally stood up.

"Let's go."

"Mm-hmm."

In the car, Xia Yanchun sniffed Shen Nian’s clothes and wrinkled her nose in disgust.

"You stink."

"Let me smell yours then."

"No way."

"What’s the big deal? It’s not like you’ll lose a chunk of flesh."

Xia Yanchun arched her brows. "We’ve been hanging out for how long, and you’re still trying to take advantage of me?"

"I see you as one of the guys. What ‘taking advantage’? Guys touch each other’s legs all the time—can I touch yours?"

"So you guys sniff each other and grope legs? No wonder I saw you sharing an umbrella with Chen Dong the other day..."

"Are you out of your damn mind?"

Fine, no leg-touching. But now she’s trying to peg him as gay?

He twisted the throttle, and the bike suddenly accelerated, making Xia Yanchun grip his shoulders tighter.

She pinched him hard. "Why so fast?!"

"Gotta get home and shower."

"Slow down."

"Then I’ll have to brake hard."

Xia Yanchun froze, taking a moment to process his words before flushing with anger.

Even rabbits don’t eat the grass by their own burrow!

Was this big pervert Shen Nian finally making a move on her, the so-called "grass by his burrow"?

Jerk! Creep!

"Do it and you’re dead!"

"Kidding, kidding..."

They got home by seven in the evening.

After showering, Shen Nian stepped out of the bathroom to find Xia Yanchun chatting with Shen Yue on the couch.

He stayed silent. With the two women he got along with least in the same room, one word from him would invite ten comebacks.

"Shen Nian, grab two yogurts from the fridge," Shen Yue called out, waving at him.

"Am I your errand boy now?" Shen Nian wiped his brow. Who was the younger sibling here? Anyone would think Xia Yanchun was the blood relative.

"Honestly, I wouldn’t mind if you were an errand boy."

Little brothers existed to be bossed around by their big sisters!

Shen Nian scoffed but fetched the yogurts for Shen Yue and Xia Yanchun. To avoid further orders, he retreated to his room. "I’ll be studying in here. Don’t bother me unless it’s important."

"Mm-hmm, study hard," Shen Yue said approvingly.

As everyone knows—or as "common knowledge" insists—studying in one’s room is an invincible state.

Forgot to thaw the pork? Forgot to hang the laundry? Forgot to sweep? Just say, "I was studying and forgot," and parents usually let it slide.

Shen Nian had dodged countless near-death experiences with this trick.

Yes, for two whole months, he’d been holed up in his room, "studying diligently."

Why was his summer homework untouched? None of your business. Quit asking so many questions.

"Shen Nian, I’m coming in."

Shen Nian: "..."

Crap. Xia Yanchun wasn’t a parent. This excuse wouldn’t work on her.

After two seconds of silence, the door creaked open. Xia Yanchun didn’t step in immediately—just cracked it enough to poke her fluffy head through.

Shen Nian sat at his desk, an English vocabulary book and scratch paper laid out, the picture of a diligent student. Only then did Xia Yanchun tiptoe inside.

Two months ago, she’d stumbled upon Shen Nian’s secret like this. Now, every time she entered his room, that memory flashed before her eyes.

"Studying?" Xia Yanchun leaned closer, tilting her head slightly. The freshly showered girl carried a faint, pleasant scent of body wash.

Shen Nian glanced sideways. "Dude, you smell kinda nice. Let me sniff."

"One slap from me, and we’ll see if you keep acting crazy." Xia Yanchun raised a threatening arm.

Back when they were kids, Shen Nian would’ve been scared. But now, with their size difference...

Babe, your "angry" face looks like you’re pouting.

"Heh heh heh, you dare act tough in my room?" Shen Nian smirked and got up to shut the door.

No ulterior motives—just keeping the AC cold.

Xia Yanchun wasn’t fazed. She eyed the vocabulary book. "How many words have you memorized so far?"

"Close to a thousand, I’d say."

"A thousand words in a week? Not bad. Master 3,500, and you’ll easily score a hundred on the English college entrance exam. Keep it up!"

Shen Nian picked his nose. "Always telling me to ‘keep it up.’ How about some real rewards to motivate me?"

"I can give you pressure. Motivation? Nah, you don’t deserve it."

Xia Yanchun added, "Yesterday, Lan Fukai said your English sucks. He kinda looked down on you and told me not to hang out with a ‘English dunce’ like you."

Shen Nian raised a brow. So the English class rep, Lan Fukai—whose only strong suit was English, whose other grades were worse than his, and whose total score wasn’t much higher—was talking smack?

You’d think he was some 700-point genius or something.

"Whatever," Shen Nian said breezily.

Objectively speaking, Lan Fukai wasn’t wrong. Compared to him and Xia Yanchun, Shen Nian’s English scores were trash.

But he couldn’t wrap his head around it.

If a top-scoring genius looked down on him, fine—the gap was real. But where did Lan Fukai, who barely outperformed him, get this superiority complex?

Then again, no point dwelling on Lan Fukai.

Like a dashing adventurer facing a goblin, he’d just kick it aside like roadkill.

Dashing? Sure. Adventurer? Absolutely. Goblin? Not real. But whether the "roadkill" was real remained to be seen.

At this rate, it wouldn’t take long—maybe just the first monthly exam—for his scores to surpass Lan Fukai’s. No doubt about it.

What was that saying again?

"My English has room for improvement. You’ll just have to deal with it."

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