I'm A Math Idiot, So What? - Chapter 29

After the first-level emergency alert was lifted, my dad raised his backside and took the answer sheet. Immediately, the second-level alert started blaring again.

My dad habitually scanned the sheet with his index finger, line by line, occasionally glancing up at me.

“Didn’t you tell me last year that you scored 90 in your math class?” he asked after setting the sheet down.

My nervousness was akin to that of a new father waiting outside the delivery room. I waited for ages, expecting him to point something out, only for him to come back with such a question.

Has Professor Fang recruited my dad for the Guerrilla Team? I couldn’t follow his train of thought at all.

My dad glanced at my mom, then scrutinized me from head to toe like a searchlight, with excitement in his voice: “Last time you said 90, I didn’t believe it. But now I see it. Like your mom, you’re a bit of a slow starter in math, but at least you caught the last train.”

He leaned back in his chair and said, “I always said, both your mom and I are science majors; our child wouldn’t dislike math.”

My mom joined in the excitement, picking up the answer sheet to examine it carefully: “You see, Old Lin, once math shows improvement, it’s like opening up the Ren and Du Meridians — progress is fast. Right, Teacher Feng?” She put down the paper and glanced at Fang Congxin and me, “Once a person has motivation, there’s nothing they can’t achieve.”

I had a faint feeling that things were heading in a unpredictable direction, so I tried to steer the situation. “It’s just luck. Professor Fang’s math class is notoriously difficult. I’m afraid with my limited knowledge, I might fail. I need to be cautious this year as I aim for a postgraduate recommendation.”

I blinked at my mom, signaling her to focus on the bigger picture rather than romantic ideas.

My mom caught on: “That’s true. Old Fang, do you think Xiaomeng might fail?”

Professor Fang replied, “If you’re worried, how about this — let Xiaomeng come to my house once a week, and I’ll personally tutor her. How does that sound?”

I had a new feeling that a derailed train was about to run over my face.

“Professor Fang, that would be too much trouble for you. Once I finish this credit, I won’t need math anymore. How about I play it safe and drop the course, replacing it with one of ordinary difficulty? That way, it’s less work for you too.”

“Xiaomeng, your thinking is too narrow. Nowadays, all fields of study are related to math. In the U.S., more and more humanities subjects are utilizing mathematical methods for statistics and modeling in research. If you want to excel in academia, math can be a great asset.”

No, thank you, Professor Fang. I’d be grateful if math doesn’t become my stumbling block.

Professor Fang continued, “Moreover, in my current graduating class, four out of five students asked to drop the class. If I let you drop, what about the others?”

Professor Fang, shouldn’t you reflect on why, out of five seniors, four want to leave? Besides, I’d bet, apart from me, the other three are actually juniors who were held back from the previous year.They’ve been in this black shop of yours for over a year, certainly stronger in survival than I am, so you can’t treat us all the same!

My dad nodded in agreement, “I completely agree with your point. It’s not just a discipline; the long-term development of a country can’t do without mathematical research. Learning more math deeply is never a bad thing. Old Fang, I understand your dilemma with the course drop decision, which is something I overlooked before. As teachers, the worst thing is to lack impartiality on matters of principle. If it leads to you being criticized, then we’d be committing a grave mistake. Here’s the thing, Xiaomeng, your foundation isn’t solid, but I see clear progress, and with Old Fang personally tutoring you, passing shouldn’t be an issue. Besides, if you really drop the course, not only will you waste the four weeks of effort, but you won’t be able to select another course now, and there’d be risks pushing it to the second semester. It’s better to endure the bitter first, then enjoy the sweet, tighten up initially, then ease off later.”

Dad, have you forgotten your one-palm mastery? Have you forgotten how you and I ended up sobbing with my math teachers along the way? I’m in the advanced stage of math cancer; I just want to peacefully complete my last year and then part ways with math forever.

There’s no bitter first, sweet later—only bitter, bitter, bitter, bitter.

There’s no tighten first, ease up later—only tight, tight, tight, tight.

Clutching that answer sheet, I was overwhelmed with bitterness.

If I were to admit in front of both families that my answers were actually copied, I wonder if my dad would suddenly turn into Lu Zhenhua.

I wouldn’t mind if he hit me.

But seeing my dad’s hand tremble slightly as he held the cup earlier, I suddenly remembered my mom mentioning a few days ago that my dad’s chest had been hurting lately and that he needed to find time to go to the hospital. As age increases, we need to be cautious about the three high problems (high blood pressure, high cholesterol, and high blood sugar).

I couldn’t very well ask my mom now if he’d gone to check-up, how his health was, or whether he could withstand the shock of me publicly admitting to cheating and trampling on his pride.

While today’s idol dramas might deviate from reality, they still offer some life lessons. For instance, a middle-aged person like my dad being infuriated by their foolish and oblivious children, clutching their chest, pointing a finger while saying, “You, you, you—,” and then collapsing with a bang, followed by the wailing of an ambulance and a black-and-white photo on an altar.

I felt I couldn’t let things come to this.

For my dad’s long life, I could only compromise and look towards Professor Fang.Professor Fang appeared full of energy, his voice loud, and his frame slender, seemingly without issues of high blood pressure, cholesterol, or blood sugar. However, after tutoring me in math for half a year, those issues might just develop. By then, the middle-aged man furiously pointing a finger while saying, “You, you, you—” would become him.

My dad is my dad, and Fang Congxin’s dad is also a dad. I can’t sacrifice someone else’s dad to save mine, right?

Fortunately, Teacher Feng, still sharp and insightful, noticed the underlying issue: “This isn’t right, is it? It’s a crucial time for graduate recommendations. Fang Rui, you’re usually busy with work, and you can’t let down your guard and hinder someone’s future.”

See, the wisdom accumulated with Teacher Feng’s age wasn’t for nothing. Those are life lessons gathered over time. I decided it was time to put on a temporary strong front.

Teacher Feng, for the health and longevity of your son, please speak with candor and wisdom, correct the situation for me!

The older woman glanced at me and suggested, “How about I start tutoring, and Xiaomeng, you stay at my place. When Fang Rui is too busy, I’ll help with the tutoring.”

Thud—that was the sound of my knees hitting the ground.

Teacher Feng, with my level of math, it’ll take about half a year to infuriate a healthy Professor Fang, let alone you—it could happen in minutes.

Professor Fang patted her hand and said, “I wouldn’t dare disturb your tranquil retirement years, I’ll handle it.”

The two continued their heated debate while I hung my head low, furrowing my brows.

Fang Congxin’s prediction came true. He was right; with my circumstances, I wasn’t suited for smooth sailing through life.

Initially, I only cheated to avoid being noticed by Professor Fang.

In the end, I cheated and became a key watchpoint for Professor Fang.

After much effort and circling around, I’m back to where I started, like a Möbius Strip.

This fiasco of trying to gain an advantage only to end up worse should be included in a moral education lesson. I could be invited to give speeches, wailing three days and nights without rest.

Question: What is Lin Meng made of?
Answer: Tons of Bitter Melon, Coptis, and Lotus Seed Heart.

I am already dead; if you need something, send a paper offering.No, no, no, I was just making a point. Professor Fang, there’s no need to pull out a pile of papers from your bag.

No, no, no, no need for math reference materials either.

No, no, no, definitely no need to assign math homework.

No, no, no, why do problems now? Isn’t it almost time to eat? What? Do a few problems to ‘warm up’ for the meal? Do all math teachers like doing math problems at the dining table?

Finally, after a long silence filled with the rustling of papers, Fang Congxin spoke up, “Let me handle it, Dad. I’ll be responsible for Lin Meng passing math.”

Professor Fang asked worriedly, “Haven’t you always claimed to be so busy with work that you don’t even have time to come home? How can you find the time for this?”

With a smile that didn’t reach his eyes, Fang Congxin replied to his dad, “I will make time. And don’t worry, as long as you don’t play any tricks, I guarantee she will pass.”

Professor Fang chuckled, “Oh, are you making a military order in front of Uncle and Aunt?”

The spark in Professor Fang’s eyes returned. Watching the father and son exchange glances over the pile of paper, I couldn’t help but feel like they were communicating in some secret code.

Fang Congxin motioned for me to come over, “Come here.”

I walked over to him like a timid daughter-in-law, and he asked, “You choose: my dad teaching you might give you some tips without any extra costs.”

For his father’s health and well-being, I quickly said, “No need to bother Professor Fang, really.”

He smiled slightly, “Then if I teach you, you’ll have to follow my methods.”

I nodded enthusiastically like a little chick pecking rice. Let’s just get through this hurdle first; later, he’ll naturally give up, and I won’t have to worry.

My mom discreetly gave me a thumbs-up from a distance.

My dad continued to lavish praises on Fang Congxin.

Professor Fang repeated polite remarks.

Teacher Feng once again suggested that I stay at Fang’s place.

They were: elated, all smiles, and joyfully chatting.

I was: disheartened, exhausted, and utterly drained.God seemed to have closed a door on me, squashed my head in the frame, then opened a small window, only to block it with a wad of fluffy tissues. I wasn’t sure if there would be enough oxygen in the room for me to survive until exam day.

Memo from Fang Congxin:

I think I made a fatal mistake. Correcting this mistake might lead to an even bigger one. But I can’t wait to make it anyway.