Chapter Twenty: The Class Meeting

On the morning of September first, the first day of the new term, Liu Fan got up early to exercise. On his way back, he bought soy milk, fried dough sticks, and steamed buns to bring back to the dormitory. As soon as he entered, he found Chen Gang and the other two still sound asleep. Liu Fan shouted loudly, “Fresh soy milk, fried dough sticks, and steamed buns! First come, first served!”

As expected, the three, who had been sleeping soundly, woke up immediately at Liu Fan’s call. They leapt from their beds and dashed over to Liu Fan, snatching breakfast from his hands and quarreling over it. In an instant, the dorm was in chaos, as if a swarm of locusts had swept through. Liu Fan, watching from the side, slapped his forehead and gave a wry smile. “It’s just breakfast, do you really have to act like this?”

“Mmm, mmm, third bro, you don’t get it. Man is made of iron, food is steel; skip a meal and you’ll be starving,” Chen Gang mumbled through a mouthful of bun, continuing to demolish the breakfast.

“Gulp, gulp—ah, burp—delicious! I’ve just realized how lucky I am to be in the same dorm as third bro. Every morning, I wake up to piping hot fried dough sticks and buns, with this tasty soy milk—this kind of life, even an immortal wouldn’t trade it!” Chen Yi chimed in, guzzling his soy milk and belching contentedly.

“Mmm! Mmm, I agree with second bro. Whoever marries third bro in the future will be truly blessed,” added Wang Shiren, who was usually the quiet one, unreservedly praising Liu Fan. But to Liu Fan, this compliment sounded rather awkward.

“What are you saying, Four-Eyes? Third bro’s a man—anyone who marries him would be the lucky one. And you call yourself a college student? No culture at all,” Chen Yi retorted, throwing a fried dough stick at Wang Shiren, who dodged it deftly.

“Haha, you missed! But that’s what I meant anyway,” Wang Shiren laughed, flashing a victory sign and swiping the last two buns.

“Hey, Four-Eyes, that’s a dirty trick! Put those buns down or you’re in trouble!” Chen Gang exclaimed, seeing his breakfast disappear, and lunged at him.

“Ha, not giving them back! What can you do about it?” With that, the two started chasing each other around Liu Fan, making him dizzy. Still, he secretly enjoyed the boisterous camaraderie.

“All right, you two, look at the time. The school notice said there’s a class meeting today, roll call and all. We can’t be late,” Liu Fan reminded them as the hour grew late.

“Ah! What are we waiting for, let’s get ready and go!” Only then did the three scramble to make themselves presentable, claiming it was to make a good impression on the first day—but really, they just wanted to look sharp to impress the girls.

Soon enough, the three, now looking the part, followed Liu Fan out of the dorm. Since each of them was in a different major, they parted ways at the entrance.

Liu Fan quickly found his classroom. Even before entering, he could hear the noisy laughter inside. Yet the moment he stepped in, the room fell silent. All eyes turned to him—his loose jeans, white T-shirt, tall and well-proportioned figure, arms fair as jade and strong, close-cropped hair full of spirit, and a face as if carved by a master: skin smooth as porcelain, bright eyes, perfect teeth, a sharp nose—more handsome than any ancient beauty. The girls gazed at him with adoring eyes, while the boys burned with envy.

Looking up, Liu Fan saw dozens of eyes fixed on him. His heart skipped a beat as he quickly checked himself for any wardrobe mishaps or stray marks on his face. Finding nothing amiss, he calmly found an empty seat, ignoring the stares. Yet he couldn’t help but notice the lingering glances and shy smiles from the nearby girls.

Tap, tap, tap… At that moment, footsteps echoed from outside, and soon a female teacher in a pink business suit entered. Her hair brushed her shoulders, her complexion was rosy, lips like cherry blossoms, and at over a meter seventy, she was tall and graceful, with an alluring figure, a rounded, shapely form, and an air of breathtaking beauty. The boys stared, swallowing hard. But to Liu Fan, such sights were fleeting clouds; with his cultivation and the string of peerless beauties he’d encountered lately, he was practically immune.

“I’m Liu Ningshuang, your class advisor for this year’s freshmen. If you need anything, you can come to me. I hope I can be of help,” she said from the podium, introducing herself with a smile tinged with a touch of pride, as if surveying all from above.

“Now, let’s have everyone introduce themselves, along with your hobbies. We’ll start with the young lady on the left,” she added, in a playful tone.

The girl she indicated was visibly shy, dressed plainly and even old-fashioned, but spotlessly clean—a child from the countryside, it was clear. Her features were fresh and pure, clear eyes, a slightly rounded face, delicate lips and even teeth; she was the very picture of a modest beauty. Hardship had made her thin, perhaps, but as she softly parted her lips, she spoke in a gentle voice, “My name is Wen Wan, from Dashan Village, Linhang City. I like raising flowers and small animals.”

No sooner had Wen Wan finished than a discordant voice rang out, “Tch… So you’re from the sticks. No wonder you look so poor, dressed like that.” Everyone turned toward the speaker—a chubby guy decked out in designer brands, a chunky gold chain around his neck, looking every inch the nouveau riche, his face brimming with arrogance and disdain for his classmates.

Wen Wan’s eyes filled with tears at his words, her gentle nature unable to withstand the humiliation. Even Liu Fan, who preferred to keep a low profile, could not stand by—especially since she was a fellow townsman. His tone sharp, he retorted, “Some people may look respectable in fancy clothes, but inside they’re empty—a rich brat, a parasite. If one day all that’s taken away, I wonder if you could even survive, let alone look down on others from the countryside. Besides, trace your family back three generations, and weren’t they all farmers? Now you’ve got a little money and forget your roots.”

“If I ever get rich, I’d be first-generation rich. If I had a son like you, I’d rather donate my money to society than give it to you.”

“You—you damn well aren’t my father! My dad’s got money, what’s it to you?” The fat boy was at a loss for words, descending to bluster. The rest of the class looked at him with contempt.

Wen Wan, having just sat down, felt much better and turned to nod her gratitude at Liu Fan, who simply nodded back before drifting off into his own thoughts.

“All right. To be classmates is a kind of fate; we should be tolerant of one another,” Liu Ningshuang interjected, smoothing things over. As a teacher, it was her job to mediate class disputes, though she herself was not pleased with the fat student’s behavior. Coming from a prominent family, however, she had to consider the bigger picture for the class as a whole.

As time passed, more students introduced themselves, and everyone learned that the fat classmate was Liu Changjin from Shanghai, whose family was in the coal business—explaining his ostentatious airs.

It was soon Liu Fan’s turn. He rose calmly and said simply, “Liu Fan, from Linhang. No particular hobbies.” He sat down without another glance. On the podium, Liu Ningshuang felt a little embarrassed. From her first sweep of the class, she’d noticed most of the boys couldn’t take their eyes off her—a fact she didn’t particularly like, but was used to. Yet Liu Fan hadn’t spared her a single look, which bruised the confidence she took in her looks and figure.

Liu Fan’s curt introduction, disregarding everyone—even denying her a chance to speak—was hard for her to bear, especially as this was her first class as a teacher. She wanted it to go perfectly, so she suppressed her irritation and said, “Haha, it seems Liu Fan isn’t much of a talker. Next, we’ll begin the class committee elections. Anyone interested, please come to the front and give your speech.”

Soon, those interested in running came forward and made their speeches—standard fare, all promising to serve the class if elected. Liu Changjin, the nouveau riche, was the most outrageous, promising to treat anyone who voted for him to a lavish meal at a five-star hotel. None of this mattered to Liu Fan, who had no interest in being a class officer.

When the results came in, however, everyone was surprised: Liu Fan was elected class president with forty votes—a remarkable number out of just over fifty students, the class being two-thirds female. Most of those votes were from the girls—handsome faces really do have universal appeal.

Liu Fan was astonished at his election, but had no desire for the thankless job. He immediately declined, “I don’t want to be class president. I have better things to do with my time.”

“This is your classmates’ trust in you—how can you let them down? Besides, class officers in university can earn extra credits, and it helps with scholarship applications. Plenty of people want this job but can’t get it, so don’t refuse. It’s only temporary anyway; we’ll hold another election in a month,” Liu Ningshuang insisted, not without her own motives. If Liu Fan were class president, she’d have more excuses to interact with him—and perhaps teach him a lesson for daring to ignore her.

Seeing her determination, Liu Fan gave in, and the class committee was formed: Liu Fan as president; Wang Shuo, a tall, thin boy, as vice president; Zhang Yalan, a rather cultured girl, as secretary; Zhao Chuo Jun as academic officer, not a stunning beauty but pleasant and outgoing; Wen Wan, gentle and delicate, as life officer; Fang Yumei, a coquettish beauty from Suzhou, as arts officer; and Meng Wei, a towering lad from Jilin, as sports officer.

With the committee in place, Liu Ningshuang delivered another piece of sad news. She raised her hands to quiet the class and announced, “As university students, we need strong bodies. That’s why all freshmen are required to undergo two weeks of military training starting tomorrow. You’ll be living in the barracks for half a month.”

“Oh no, how are we supposed to survive?”

“Yeah, I hear military training is really tough—standing in the sun all day!”

“Ah! My poor, tender skin will be ruined!”

“Yeah, yeah!”

The classroom instantly erupted like a marketplace, most of the complaints coming from the girls, but also from the scrawnier boys and those plotting ways to escape—like our friend Liu Changjin.