How wonderful it is not to have been beaten.

"Was that your homeroom teacher just now? She's so pretty!" Fang Dianqiu, being of the youngest generation, had long grown accustomed to being urged to call people 'uncle' since childhood, and hardly paid it any mind. After all, if it came down to it, she'd hit her uncles far more often than she'd called them by that name.

"Yeah. What about your homeroom teacher?"

Fang Dianqiu replied, "An old lady, teaches English, probably your English teacher as well."

Fang Ying added, "Our homeroom teacher is a dark, chubby guy, teaches math. Might be in charge of all four classes."

Before Fang Chang'an could say anything, Fang Dianqiu asked, "Have you had your seats assigned yet?"

"Yeah."

"Boy-girl pairs?"

"Yeah."

"I just saw your deskmate—she's really pretty too."

"Yeah, she's our homeroom teacher's niece."

"Oh."

The three of them leaned against the corridor railing, chatting idly. Fang Chang'an realized he couldn't keep pretending to be as withdrawn and taciturn as he used to be, and so he learned a bit more about the other two.

Fang Dianqiu and Fang Chang'an lived across from each other and had grown up together, even attending preschool side by side. Fang Chang'an hadn't been a diligent student in his early years, but after his mother started to discipline him, his grades soared in third grade and he had remained among the top two in class ever since. Fang Dianqiu had always been a good student, but once Fang Chang'an caught up, she was always just a step behind, trailing in his shadow.

Fang Ying was a year older than Fang Chang'an, and had started secondary school a year early. Originally, she attended a neighboring village's school, but her grades weren't great and she had to repeat a year. Upon hearing that Fang Chang'an and Fang Dianqiu were enrolling in town, she transferred as well, getting into the advanced class thanks to Fang Luguo's influence.

Among the three, Fang Chang'an and Fang Ying were undoubtedly closer, but as Fang Ying was older and shrewd, she managed relationships deftly, and—helped by the advantage of her gender—had become fast friends with Fang Dianqiu as well.

"What's your deskmate's name?" Both Fang Dianqiu and Fang Ying were curious about Shen Mo.

Fang Chang'an shook his head. "I don't know."

"You didn't ask?"

"Didn't feel comfortable asking."

"Didn't you do introductions in class?"

"We did, but she was ahead of me. I was so nervous I didn't even catch it."

Hearing this, both girls couldn't help but laugh. Fang Ying said, "What was there to be nervous about? Just go up and say your name."

Fang Dianqiu laughed too, explaining to Fang Ying, "He's always been like this since he was little. It's fine—she's your deskmate, you can ask her tonight."

Fang Chang'an smiled, but then noticed Fang Dianqiu and Fang Ying both looking past him. Clutching the railing, he glanced back and saw Wang Ke standing behind him with her own deskmate.

The young girl seemed to have overheard their conversation; her large almond eyes glared at Fang Chang'an, then she pouted and stomped off.

Fang Dianqiu and Fang Ying exchanged glances, then turned in unison to stare at Fang Chang'an.

He looked at them, puzzled.

"Is she your classmate?" Fang Ying asked.

"Who was that?" Fang Dianqiu followed up.

"She sits behind me," Fang Chang'an said.

"What did you do to her?"

"Nothing."

"Then why did she glare at you?"

"I have no idea." Fang Chang'an gazed after Wang Ke in confusion.

Fang Dianqiu didn't dwell on it. "There's an assessment exam tonight. Are you going to eat now?"

Fang Chang'an wasn't hungry yet, but with evening study starting at six-thirty, there wasn't much time. He countered, "I'm not very hungry, but if you two are going, let's go together."

"Let's go, then."

When Fang Chang'an returned to the dorm, he found an unfamiliar boy sitting on his bed—a little older, wearing baggy shorts and a loud floral shirt. Liu Cheng was next to him, apparently talking.

Seeing Fang Chang'an enter, Liu Cheng greeted him with a smile, "Hey, Fang Chang'an, you're back?"

Fang Chang'an replied with a soft "Mm," eyes fixed on the guy in the floral shirt, who stared right back, a hint of swagger in his expression. "You must be Fang Chang'an?"

Fang Chang'an remained standing. "And you are?"

The guy noticed that, despite Fang Chang'an's lack of any thuggish menace, his calm composure seemed even more impressive—and somewhat incongruous for a kid his age.

He muttered internally, feeling that his intimidating visit had little effect. The rest of the dorm hadn't dared raise their voices, but Fang Chang'an wasn't giving him any face, which irked him. He sneered, "Name's Liu Yan—Liu Cheng's brother. What, you got some relative teaching me too?"

Fang Chang'an smiled. "Which class are you in? Who's your physics teacher?"

"Class Seven, Grade Two. Physics teacher's Xu Fei."

"Oh, then not yet, but maybe next year."

Liu Yan was momentarily taken aback, then realized what he meant: in ninth grade, classes are reshuffled and reduced in number; it was possible Fang Chang'an's uncle could be his teacher.

Fang Chang'an waved him aside. "Mind moving? I need my lunch pail."

Liu Yan didn't budge, and Fang Chang'an stared back. They faced off for about two seconds, then Liu Yan snorted, shifting his weight with an air of disdain. "You think you're hot stuff just because you have a relative on staff?"

Fang Chang'an bent down, dragged his washbasin out from under the bed, and retrieved his lunch pail. The lid doubled as a bowl, turned upside down so the base was on top; inside, he had left a little water from lunch, untouched.

He picked up the pail and smiled at Liu Yan. "Why don’t you try beating me up and see what happens?"

"You—"

Liu Yan, provoked as though his tail had been stepped on, glared furiously and stood up. Fang Chang'an stood his ground, looking back with his usual calm.

He truly had no interest in pointless conflict, but there was no helping it—school was like this. Show weakness once, and you became that cracked egg every fly would swarm, and they'd only get bolder.

If Liu Yan managed to intimidate him now, even the peaceful coexistence he’d managed in his past life would be impossible. He’d be facing not just theft or demands for lunch money, but possibly being forced to beg his uncle and aunt for help or money.

“Worst comes to worst, I’ll just quit school and transfer elsewhere.”

Liu Yan said this with forced bravado, but his tone betrayed his lack of confidence. He glared, stepping closer—but even his steps were hesitant.

Liu Cheng, perhaps thinking back to how he’d been cowed by this kid at noon and now just wanted to watch the show, hadn't intervened much. Now, seeing his cousin truly about to lose face and worried things would get out of hand, he hurried to hold Liu Yan back. “C’mon, bro, it’s not that serious! Fang Chang'an, don’t get the wrong idea—my brother's just got a temper, he’s not a bad guy…”

Fang Chang'an leaned against the bed ladder, lunch pail in hand, and said with a laugh, “I wouldn’t know about his character, but him barging into a first-year’s dorm and threatening to beat me up is something everyone here just saw.”

“You little—” Liu Yan, already posturing, was about to break free and go at Fang Chang'an when Fang Chang'an’s words infuriated him further. He tried to shove Liu Cheng aside. “Liu Cheng, move!”

“Bro! Bro!” Liu Cheng hadn’t expected the intimidation to escalate to real violence. He hugged his cousin’s waist with all his strength, yelling, “This is the dorm! And his aunt is my homeroom teacher!”

Frankly, Fang Chang'an didn’t know much about Liu Yan. If the guy lost his head and ignored the consequences, Fang Chang'an’s small frame could indeed take a beating.

But if Liu Yan really lost it, Fang Chang'an had ways out—run, dodge, surrender, whatever it took.

Even if it came to a fight, he didn’t really care. It wouldn’t be his first, and at worst, he’d get a couple of kicks—embarrassing, yes, but not too painful. It certainly wouldn’t be worse than when he'd been beaten up in college for stealing someone’s girlfriend.

If Liu Yan threw a punch, even without his uncle and aunt’s connection, Fang Chang'an was confident that just his homeroom teacher, Cheng Mengfei, would be enough to get Liu Yan expelled—and force him to pay compensation. That would serve as a warning to the rest; no one else would dare mess with him lightly.

A single beating for three years of peace? A fair trade, compared to taking a blow for a short-lived girlfriend.

Liu Yan was half a head taller than Liu Cheng. If he really lost control, Liu Cheng couldn’t hold him. Ultimately, even in an impulsive age, truly reckless acts require both subjective and objective factors.

But Liu Yan wasn’t that reckless. He cared about his posture and his pride but didn’t actually want to escalate things beyond repair.

“Fine, I’ll just transfer schools. You think that’s so easy?”

“Your parents wouldn’t have to pull strings? Spend money? Or pay compensation if you hit someone?”

Seeing the situation had cooled, Fang Chang'an softened his tone. When Liu Yan’s stance relaxed, he smiled and said, “Look, we have no real beef. You don’t want to get expelled, and I don’t want a pointless beating—nobody wins, right?”

Liu Yan stopped trying to attack, breathing hard and still staring daggers at Fang Chang'an, probably weighing whether to make more threats or plot revenge.

Fang Chang'an smiled again. “Honestly, I still don’t know what I did to offend you. I get along fine with Liu Cheng, no problems between us. Even if you want to stand up for him, you’ve got the wrong guy.”

Liu Cheng quickly chimed in, “Yeah, really, bro. We got along great at lunch—no need for this. Fang Chang'an’s a good guy, he even promised to speak up for me if I get in trouble.”

With both of them talking him down, Liu Yan seemed satisfied that his pride was intact and his anger subsided. Liu Cheng cautiously let go of his cousin’s arm.

Liu Yan stood there, still staring at Fang Chang'an. He’d been unruly since childhood, fought his share of fights, but he’d never met anyone quite like this. His internal balance tipped, but he wasn’t sure how to end things “gracefully.”

Kids wore their hearts on their sleeves, and Fang Chang'an could read him easily. Seeing Liu Yan’s confidence waver, Fang Chang'an saw no reason to accommodate him further. Scholars had always outmaneuvered brutes in this way—if you raised your fists, they’d reason with you; if you lowered them, they’d plot against you.

Fang Chang'an had no desire for trouble; he just wanted Liu Yan to behave. With a smile, he said, “If there’s nothing else, I’m off to dinner. The girls are waiting.”

Liu Yan hesitated, unsure what to say. Fang Chang'an kept his easy smile, picked up his lunch pail, and walked out.

At that moment, he thought of the Cuban Missile Crisis, the future crossing of nineteen fighter jets over the Taiwan Strait, the Martian perspective, the standoff in the South China Sea… and felt, with a surge of pride, that the game of nerves played by those historically famous “cowards” was not so different from this.

Of course, those grand confrontations had nothing directly to do with him now.

Walking out the door of the boys’ dormitory, Fang Chang'an finally let out a quiet sigh of relief. Not getting beaten up—what a blessing.