I'm A Math Idiot, So What? - Chapter 55

Chapter 55: Don’t Let Your Heart Be Moved (2)

Thanks to Teacher Feng’s advance notice, we only had to give our names at the nurses’ station before a doctor with graying hair came to greet us. He introduced himself as Director Zhang, removed his mask, and looked at me, saying, “You must be Fang Congxin, right?

Such a grown-up girl, yet still afraid of getting a tooth pulled like a little kid.

Good thing your boyfriend’s here to give you some moral support.”

I pointed to the towering figure behind me—nearly 190 centimeters tall—and said, “Director Zhang, I’m sorry, it’s actually him.”

Director Zhang covered his embarrassment with a hearty laugh. “Aiya, aiya, my apologies! Old Feng only gave me the name—” Fang Congxin, half-covering his face, cut him off with eyes sharp as knives. “It’s fine.”

It’s fine for you, but I’m about to die laughing! My stomach hurts from laughing so hard, okay?!

This is the first time I’ve ever seen Fang Congxin get flustered like this!

After the X-ray, Director Zhang pointed to a horizontally impacted wisdom tooth at the back of the jaw. He explained the procedure: the gum would be cut open, the tooth fractured into pieces, each fragment removed individually, and then the incision stitched closed.

Hearing this, Fang Congxin lay back on the examination chair with the solemn resolve of someone facing their own execution.

I was busy recording Scaredy Fang’s tooth extraction vlog on my phone when he suddenly barked at me, “Come here!”

Ever the dutiful servant, I scurried over. “What is it?”

“Lend me your hand for a sec.”

“Hand, or phone?”

Before I could react, Fang Congxin had already grabbed my hand.

Director Zhang’s eyes crinkled into a smile behind his mask. As his assistant helped him examine Fang’s teeth, he remarked, “What’s the story with this little girlfriend’s hand?”

With Fang Congxin holding my hand, the scars on my wrist were fully exposed. I tried to angle my arm slightly and said casually, “It got hit by a falling sign.”

“Tendon severed? You’re lucky the sign only hit your hand.”

The assistant suddenly chimed in, “Are you Lin Meng from Taixi?”

I turned to him. “Yeah, you too?”

“Ah, I’m from the neighboring county. Wow, you’re actually in Changning! I remember your case—I even cursed out those people on the forum for you.”

I never expected to encounter someone here who knew about what had happened back then. I felt a sudden wave of awkwardness wash over me.

Fang Congxin held my hand, leaving me no excuse to leave. I had no choice but to force a stiff smile and say, “Ah, is that so? Thanks—but it’s really not necessary—”

The young assistant cut me off, continuing on her own. “Director, in our hometown, Lin Meng was known as ‘Little Dou E.’ Her story went viral online—you might have heard about it.

“It must have been summer then, right?

“Our hometown gets hit by typhoons a lot. Even with all the precautions, secondary disasters still happen pretty often, and falling objects are the deadliest.

“Lin Meng’s hand got crushed by one of those falling objects.

“But it wasn’t supposed to hit her at all. She was far away, but when she saw the billboard start to fall and was about to hit another little girl, she ran over and pushed her out of the way at the last second.

“The billboard landed right between them. One jagged edge pinned Lin Meng’s hand, while the other sliced the girl’s cheek near her ear.

“Lin Meng, an arts student who’d been practicing piano for over a decade, had well-trained tendons. The other girl was left with a scar near her ear.”

Originally, both families were victims. But later, the little girl’s family claimed, after careful calculation, that the billboard wouldn’t have fallen on their child if Lin Meng hadn’t pushed her. They even stormed the police station, insisting Lin Meng was guilty of attempted murder, and filed a civil lawsuit demanding compensation. Eventually, the police were forced to take her statement multiple times in the hospital ward.

When the police refused to pursue the case, they began distributing flyers outside the Lin Family Community and spreading rumors online. They even dug up Lin Meng’s old dark fantasy short stories, claiming they proved she had antisocial tendencies.

If a car’s dashcam hadn’t captured the entire incident, who knows how badly Lin Meng would have been smeared?

“Director,” Fang Congxin said, “what kind of world is this, where kindness is repaid with malice? It’s truly chilling.”

Director Zhang’s medical skills were evidently lacking. Fang Congxin’s grip on my hand tightened painfully. I winced, “Are you trying to break my hand again?”

His grip loosened instantly.

I scratched my head and said, “It’s not as dire as you make it sound. There were still many kind-hearted people who helped me along the way.”

“Who’s that?” I asked.

“Our Director of Political Education, Lei Chuifeng,” the junior assistant replied.

“It’s a bit embarrassing to admit, but back in school, I cheated on a test and got caught by the teacher. I had to go on stage and read a self-criticism. After I finished, Director Lei Chuifeng gave a concluding speech.

“Right there on the podium, he suddenly looked at me and said, ‘Let’s bravely be good people. Don’t be afraid. If anyone tries to take advantage of us, the school will have our backs.’

“Later, the school mobilized resources—alumni lawyers and PR professionals—to help me resolve the situation. The online backlash gradually subsided.”

I lowered my head, lost in thought. “Afterward, I met many kind-hearted friends.”

“My classmates from Taixi, my classmates from Changning, and my colleagues at the Information Management Center—Sister Xu, Director Li, Brother Sun, Brother Qian…

“I know they were all especially kind and tolerant towards me because of that incident—an extraordinary kind of kindness.

“And even after all these years, someone like you is still willing to speak up for me. Perhaps the world isn’t as hopeless as it seems.”

Director Zhang gently placed a fragment of tooth on the pristine porcelain tray and glanced up at me.

Just as I feared he might shower me with unwarranted praise, he asked with a sly smile, “Everyone’s being so nice to you. Is your little boyfriend treating you well too? I certainly didn’t see any signs of it when he was yelling at you earlier.”

Fang Congxin still had hold of my hand, so I had to lean awkwardly to the side as I declared with exaggerated bravado, “Actually, not great. Director Zhang, I know you’re standing up for me too, so don’t hold back! By the way, are you tired? Why don’t you take a break and let me try pulling them out? Since my left hand’s been injured, my right hand’s become incredibly strong—I can even lift a whole water cooler jug with one hand!”

I was rambling on when Fang Congxin, lying in the dental chair, gave my hand a fierce squeeze, his eyes burning with fury.

Director Zhang extracted the last fragment of tooth and said, “How can I let a young lady do such manual labor? What about your needlework? Want to come over and stitch something?”

“Heh. Director Zhang, don’t get me started. This is finally my chance to shut his mouth… literally!”

Director Zhang burst into laughter, turning to Fang Congxin. “Sorry, my hands are a bit shaky from laughing so much. If I accidentally sew into a spot without anesthesia, just bear with it, okay?”

Fang Congxin: “……”

Three to five days later, Fang Congxin, finally free from his toothache, personally escorted me to Grandpa Ke’s pig farming base in the Changning suburbs, as instructed by Teacher Feng.

Our traveling companion was Xiao Q, a butterfly dog I had just picked up from Sister Xu’s friend the day before.

Fang Congxin, ever slow on the uptake, belatedly learned from Teacher Feng that I had been so eager to get my tooth extracted because of the 10,000 yuan writing fee. Combined with his earlier self-imposed silence due to the tooth’s pain—as if under a Forbidden Technique suppressing his usual biting sarcasm—the lifting of the “curse” unleashed his repressed mockery with renewed vigor.

“Still worried about making money?” he sneered. “Let me teach you a trick. Live-stream yourself doing math online. I guarantee you’ll have people donating to you, begging you to stop through tearful sobs.”

Trapped in the wilderness along the way, with no way to get back if he kicked me out, I endured his taunts in silence.

“Heard you’re writing a history of pigs. Ah, finally a chance to record the words and deeds of your brethren. Must be incredibly exciting, right?”

“When you meet your relatives later, don’t give them that hungry look in your eyes.”

Xiao Q, your first lesson from Mommy: bite people. Look at that guy over there, always itching for a fight—wanna give him a nibble?

Fortunately, Grandpa Ke turned out to be a kind and benevolent farmer-turned-entrepreneur.

Hearing we were coming, he had been waiting for us at the base gate since early morning.

As soon as we stepped out of the car, he whisked us straight to the base’s small cafeteria for a “whole pig feast.”

At the center of the large round glass table sat a glistening roasted whole pig, its skin a deep, oily brown. Beside the suckling pig, on a large red enamel tray with a double happiness motif, rested a fat pig’s head.

The table was ringed with meat dishes: crystal-braised pork knuckle, big-sauce ribs, pork ribs stewed with potatoes, and dry-pot fatty intestines.

Ah, I feel so guilty.

Just a casual visit from me, and several more innocent little pigs have been slaughtered.

My gaze fixed on the table as the sounds of playful bickering between young people drifted in from outside.

I followed the voices and saw a brother and sister who looked remarkably alike, about seventy percent similar. The elder sister, around eighteen or nineteen, had an empty pant leg and a delicate, refined appearance. The younger brother, around fourteen or fifteen, sported a faint mustache.

At that moment, Big Sister, leaning on a crutch, was glaring fiercely at her brother, likely swallowing harsh words out of respect for the occasion.

Grandpa Ke pulled them over to sit with us and explained, “I heard one of you is from Peking University and the other from Changning University—both exceptional talents. I’m just a farmer, you see. I only had four or five years of schooling. After the famine, I never returned to school.”

“A few years ago, my fellow villagers asked me to help with disaster relief. I donated some money and sent supplies, and Teacher Feng was the one who coordinated the logistics.

A year later, when I visited the disaster area, I found Teacher Feng still there, teaching in a rural school. That’s how we became acquainted.

Over the past few years, Teacher Feng’s health hasn’t been good, so she settled in Changning. With her guidance, I started teaching myself to read books and learn about management.

I’m deeply grateful to her. I trust anyone Teacher Feng recommends implicitly.”

Grandpa Ke finished speaking and chuckled a little sheepishly. “Seeing you two so young and capable gave me some new ideas.

These two are my grandchildren.

The older one is Ke Qiao, a university student in the neighboring province. She takes the high-speed train back once a month.

The younger one is Ke Lu, a high school freshman. He’s a bit… lacking, especially in math—”

“A bit lacking?” Ke Qiao interrupted, glaring at Ke Lu.

Ke Lu shrank back, avoiding eye contact.

The old man didn’t scold her, continuing, “Last time, Ke Lu was studying a book called ‘Something Something Real Exam Questions.’ I asked him why the questions were labeled ‘real’ and ‘fake,’ and he explained that ‘real exam questions’ are just like the ones on the actual tests. I thought he was cheating, so I rushed to the school to confront his teacher, worried he was taking shortcuts.

Turns out I just made a fool of myself. The teacher explained everything but didn’t laugh at me. Instead, she suggested I find Ke Lu a math tutor.”

“There must be plenty of tutors around, right?”

Grandpa Ke waved his hand. “Yes, I know that. Ke Qiao used to attend the renowned Litop Training Center for English and math.”

“But Ke Lu’s been a real headache. Several math tutors have already given up on him. I’m desperate, grasping at straws, asking anyone who’ll listen.”

“And now that you’re here…”

“Would you consider tutoring Ke Lu in math?”

This was a truly historic moment.

In all my years, I never imagined I’d live to see the day an elder would plead with me to tutor someone in math.

I hesitated, a troubled expression on my face. “Grandpa Ke, Fang Congxin isn’t a student and doesn’t have much time for tutoring. As for my math—I can barely handle first-grade arithmetic, let alone high school. I’d be more likely to ruin him than help him.”

Grandpa Ke immediately interjected, “No worries, no worries! I’m just mentioning it in passing. Think of it as getting to know two younger siblings. Come, let’s eat.”

This little dining interlude was quickly relegated to my mental trash bin after touring the pig farm.

After all, I was here on serious business. Grandpa Ke led us to an empty office and showed us the family genealogy meticulously compiled by Ke’s Father years ago.

As I gazed at the elegant calligraphy on the family tree, I couldn’t help but ask Grandpa Ke, “By the way, are Ke Lu’s parents also in Changning?”

Grandpa Ke’s eyes dimmed. “More than five years ago, they were killed in a car accident on the Changrong Expressway.”

“I’m so sorry—”

Grandpa Ke shook his head. “Each person has their own fate.”

“Was Ke Qiao’s leg injured in the same accident?”

Grandpa Ke nodded. “That girl has always been fiercely competitive. Losing her leg only fueled her ambition. She’s never given me a moment’s worry.”

Just then, the bickering voices of the siblings next door drifted through the walls.

Grandpa Ke smiled helplessly at us. “Those two can’t be in the same room for five minutes without arguing.”

At that moment, a staff member entered the room and called Grandpa Ke away.

Fang Congxin and I were left alone.

I bent my head to study the family tree, while Fang Congxin checked emails on his phone. We both unconsciously edged our chairs closer to the wall separating us from the next room.

“Is your brain a nucleic acid wrapped in a food vacuole?” Big Sister roared.

I looked at Fang Congxin, puzzled. He immediately explained, “She’s calling him a paramecium—a single-celled organism.”

“Oh—” I understood.

“Not understanding math and science is such a handicap—even when someone’s cursing me out, I have to ask for a translation.”

“Just asking—is that brain of yours just for show? How many times have I told you? If A is a set and B is a subset of A, then anything that belongs to B also belongs to A.”

“It’s like me telling you, ‘Don’t eat shit,’ and you come back asking, ‘Sis, can I eat pig shit or duck shit?'”

“The moment you ask that question, it proves your brain is full of shit. Understand?!”

I silently glanced at Fang Congxin, grateful for his usual patient and clear explanations, which, compared to this outburst, were like a gentle spring breeze.

“I need to go help my little brother. We underachievers stick together—can’t let anyone bully or curse at him.”

I slapped my butt and stood up, opened the door, peeked out, and said with a cheerful smile, “Aiya, Ke Qiao, I heard you shouting from way over there! Calm down first.”

“Based on my experience, sometimes the brain has its own ideas. Shouting won’t solve anything.”

Seeing me enter, Ke Qiao looked a bit embarrassed but still retorted, “If it were you, you’d probably be shouting even louder.”

“Alright, I’ll tutor her. You go take a break.”

Ke Qiao eyed me skeptically but eventually put down her book and left.