I'm A Math Idiot, So What? - Chapter 16

Xu Zheng was my high school classmate. We were in the same class in the first year, but he switched to the science track in the second year. Although we went to the same high school, we only knew each other by name and weren’t close. Later on, he got into Changning Institute of Technology, which is just across the street from our Changning University. For ten years, there have been persistent rumors between the two universities, each claiming they would eventually merge with the other. Despite the detailed claims, nothing has ever happened, except for the ongoing rivalry intensifying.

In our freshman year, Wang Ziqi became famous after creating a personified couple (CP) of the two schools, instantly rising to legendary status on Bilibili. It’s clear there’s plenty to obsess over. The love-hate relationship between the two schools means that anything can spark a debate. These debates are endless and varied; even the reproductive capabilities of the stray cats from both universities have been statistically analyzed in math challenges by bored science students, as if the virility of these cats symbolizes something unspoken.

However, no matter how heated a debate gets, when it boils down to a certain point, everyone just agrees to “let it go,” returning to a peaceful state, like the theme of peaceful coexistence.

Changning Tech might say: “Check out the looks of your university’s guys.” Changning University might reply: “Try the food from your cafeteria.” While I won’t brag about our school’s looks, the number of issues with Changning Tech’s cafeteria is enough to produce a dark version of “A Bite of China.” Their cafeteria’s wild creativity in dish development is an ongoing surprise. They often mix incompatible dishes, like steaming potatoes with pineapple, stir-frying corn with greens, or stewing ribs with oranges. These are some of their cafeteria’s innovative creations, reflecting the school’s culture of daring exploration.

After eating what he called “Changning Tech’s pig feed” for half a year, Xu Zheng started coming to our school to enjoy better meals. At the time, it felt rather awkward for me. Xu Zheng and I had an uncomfortable history from a summer incident after our senior year, but he was completely unfazed by that awkward past. He said that losing face was minor compared to starving, and even if we had a deep grudge, he would still come over to avoid eating at Changning Tech. My compassion prevailed; instead of scolding or hitting him, I chose to tolerate him and occasionally even invited him over for a meal.

I am like a saint who offers the other cheek after being slapped. Of course, this had nothing to do with him giving me a few hundred yuan a month for meal expenses.The main reason is my compassionate, benevolent heart; I can’t bear to see the country’s future leaders not getting enough to eat. I rushed to the first cafeteria and found Xu Zheng squatting at the entrance, eating cherries with great efficiency, one after another, causing extreme discomfort to those around him. I swooped in to snatch the cherries from him, guarding the small bamboo basket behind me, and said, “Take it easy.” Xu Zheng brushed off his hands and said, “If you hadn’t come, I’d be almost full by now.”

“Then it’s perfect, you can order less food later,” I replied. Xu Zheng scoffed, “Don’t worry, I’m like a camel; I have two stomachs—one for solids and one for liquids.” Walking ahead, I commented, “One stomach for dry garbage and one for wet garbage, right? You’ve got the waste sorting down pat.”

Xu Zheng lightly hit the back of my head and exclaimed, “Hey!” I turned my head and sharply retorted, “Hey! Except for my dad, mom, third uncle, second aunt’s husband, eldest aunt, and third sister-in-law, nobody else dares to hit me on my precious head!” Xu Zheng, still teasing from behind, said, “I’m just checking if the echo is loud.”

I sneered, “As if your echo isn’t loud! Our teacher said not one of the answers you gave for those three questions was correct. Look at you, always thinking about ‘one day day,’ just knowing how to eat. You even got the elective course question wrong. How are you going to pass the entrance exam for our university’s grad school?”

As I spoke, I suddenly got into character and mimicked our senior year math teacher. I pretended to adjust non-existent glasses, rolled the club’s promotional flyer that was handed to me into a cylinder, tapped the table, and shouted, “Look up and see how many days are left until the exam! Is this the kind of homework a student preparing for the entrance exam submits? Disgraceful! At your current level, if you were in the Japanese Imperial Army, you’d have to commit seppuku to apologize!”

Under my resounding lecturing, Xu Zheng had already taken out his phone, intensely studying the problems.

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