CHAPTER 61: CHAPTER 60: THE SECOND FIRST KISS

The man’s cheeks were cold and hard, but then came warm, moist, squirming lips. Su Ziceng’s eyes widened in shock, locking onto those eyes behind the glasses, a color undistinguishable between blue and black. She felt something soft and wet push into her mouth, driving deep, and her tongue instantly petrified—it was a fiery French kiss.

First, there was dead silence, followed by the whooping of the boys, then the twittering of the girls, and whatever came last, Su Ziceng couldn’t remember. When she finally caught her breath, the dizzyingly numbing sensation on her lips reached the deepest recesses of her heart.

Fei Qing was dumbfounded, and so was Yan Wuxu, motionless. Deng Jiani was even angrier than if she’d been forcefully kissed by Pello herself—what did this mean? The most outstanding student in Pello’s eyes wasn’t her.

Seeing Pello move past Deng Jiani, Hang Yishao had already breathed a sigh of relief. It wasn’t that he couldn’t bear to lose, but if Pello really had kissed Deng Jiani, it would have been a blow to his face, as if intentionally offending Hang Yishao.

But the scene that followed made Hang Yishao’s heart soar then plummet, as if reliving the moment on horseback, only this time, he crashed down hard. His body was unharmed, but there was an injury in his heart, a bruise that made him feel uncomfortable all over. Underneath his foot, a riding crop was snapped in two. Dark clouds hung over his face and everyone, including Fei Qing, thought he was upset because he had lost the competition.

That kiss seemed like nothing but a joke, dissolving among the laughter of the crowd.

Are all French people so passionate? Su Ziceng mulled over French etiquette she read in her textbooks, not coming back to her senses until the class had ended. Her lips were slightly swollen, and the tip of her tongue still retained a soft sensation.

Not far away was an even uglier face—Hang Yishao waiting next to the horse track for Deng Jiani, his face as foul as if he had stepped in dog excrement, glaring at her fiercely, as if Su Ziceng had caused him to lose the competition. Blaming others when you lack skill, Su Ziceng retorted with a glare back.

She was the most innocent one. Her second first kiss in life had just vanished, and the more Su Ziceng thought about it, the more wrong she felt, believing she had been terribly wronged by Pello. Fortunately, the horse riding class only took place twice a week; the afternoon classes were Horse Classics and Mathematics and Physics.

Thankfully, the Horse Classics class wasn’t taught by Pello. The so-called Horse Classics was not about judging or discussing how to race horses as Su Ziceng had anticipated. Instead, its full title was Marxism Political Economy—a typical brainwashing class. (I reminisce...)

After the class, all she remembered was a single phrase, her mind groggy as she headed down to her next Mathematics and Physics class. Just as she reached the classroom door, she bumped into two familiar faces: one was Yan Wuxu, and the other was Wen Maixue, the ’top student’ at Kelly Women’s College.

Su Ziceng couldn’t help but wonder, would a class chosen by Wen Maixue, be simple?

Mathematics and Physics, as the name suggests, should be a basic math-related course. However, this was one of Kelly Women’s College’s comprehensive foundation courses and a large class—all new Kelly students had to attend in a large classroom.

If it was just math, that was Su Ziceng’s forte, something she had become proficient in through years of shopping experience, keeping crystal-clear track of how many pairs of shoes filled her dressing room and shoe cabinets, their appreciation and depreciation. This was one of the few skills she could flaunt from her previous life.

In her past life, at Quan University, her higher mathematics was the only course she didn’t risk needing to retake an exam for.

Wen Mai was somewhat different from usual; she took her customary seat in the front row; soon a cluster of "Wheat Ears" gathered by her side. The girls discussed something that caused Wen Maixue to stiffen momentarily and even glance back at Su Ziceng a few times.

These glances were unusual, for noble creatures akin to swans like Wen Maixue would not deign to cast Su Ziceng a second look.

Yan Wuxu sat in the back of the classroom with another student, while Su Ziceng sat in the third row, surrounded by several slightly older-looking female students.

This classroom could accommodate a hundred people which should be more than enough for fifty freshmen. But soon, there were only a dozen empty seats left, as if dozens of people had appeared out of nowhere.

"I heard that several people got kicked out last semester," lamented a twenty-something-year-old girl beside her: "I don’t think I’ll make it this time either."

"Is this your second time as well?" asked someone turning around from the front row, with a face Su Ziceng barely recognized.

Kelly Women’s College has a limited enrollment size, so although the freshmen live in both regular dormitories and luxury apartments, getting to know each other’s faces is not difficult.

"The second time?" The answer came from a girl with a face full of reluctance, "It’s the third time already, I’ve taken this class every year and got dropped every time, it’s the third time already." Mathematics and Physics are courses offered every semester, and the girl speaking next to her turned out to be a sophomore who was a freshman last year.

"The third time?" A few more heads turned with curiosity, "Really? How many points did you fall short last time?"

"Seventy-one," the sophomore girl said with anguished resignation.

"Seventy-one isn’t enough?" Even the first row of "wheat ears" reacted, turning their bodies around as well.

"Mathematics and Physics is an introductory course for the intermediate assessment," Wen Maixue timely played the role of class representative, "and you must achieve at least seventy-five points."

"I’m not even the worst off; some people take it year after year and still fail. The most tragic are those who originally passed but couldn’t make it through the intermediate assessment at the end of sophomore year and had to retake the class." Thinking of the intermediate assessment coming up in another year, the sophomore girl wore a scared expression.

The teacher walked into the classroom for the lesson, and after the previous discussion, everyone was poised for battle. By the time this notorious "exam killer" of the whole school walked in, some had already breathed a sigh of relief.

The female teacher entered carrying a stack of papers, placing them on the lectern without stirring up a speck of dust. Although the Kelly Women’s College campus is old, the teaching facilities are first-class. More than a decade ago, the college had already introduced advanced foreign projector teaching methods.

Aside from the previously encountered repeat students, this was the first time the new students, including Su Ziceng, had seen the Mathematics and Physics teacher.

This female teacher, who appeared to be in her early thirties, had a friendly baby face with single eyelids and a fleshy nose. She was prone to sweating, and in these autumn days, not yet dry, she held a stack of papers and also carried a bottle of chilled Coke.

The teacher did not turn on the projector but instructed Wen Maixue in the front row to distribute the stack of papers. They were densely printed with excerpts from Tang and Song Dynasty poems.

Math and Physics course? Su Ziceng felt a cold sweat forming just like the bottle of chilled Coke placed on the lectern. Kelly Women’s College should have been renamed "Deception Women’s College."

"Ms. Qian," the marker left several free-flowing characters on the whiteboard, and the teacher cleared her throat, "Welcome to the new students who are meeting for the first time and the old students meeting again."

"We have some faces here that couldn’t be more familiar. If you don’t pass this year, you won’t need to take the sophomore promotion exams, just pack up and go home." Ms. Qian had thin lips that didn’t quite match her face. As soon as she spoke, sweat dripped from her forehead, gathering at the bridge of her shallow nose.

"That’s all for the self-introduction, please pay attention to the test papers in your hands." Ms. Qian paused and listened with satisfaction to the gasps from row to row. Seeing the students’ pained expressions was her second biggest hobby.

Pop quiz, Su Ziceng glanced at the test paper, the first sentence already stunned her, "He who leaves home as a youth returns as a full-grown man," ancient poetry, what’s the line that follows?

"Wrong, not this side, flip to the back. We must support the government’s initiative for the reuse of waste paper," after the suppressed complaints, the sound of flipping paper echoed in the classroom.

Much of the class breathed a sigh of relief after seeing the sparse words on the back, but Wen Maixue furrowed her brows. Conversations rose and fell throughout the classroom.

"That’s enough discussion, the exam time will last as long as it takes for me to drink this bottle of Coke, and class rep, please collect the test papers when I’m done." Ms. Qian opened the Coke bottle leisurely and even checked under the cap to see if there was a "win another bottle" marking.

Almost all of the students had already buried themselves in deep thought or concentrated writing, with only a few still paying attention to Ms. Qian’s actions.

There was only one question on the test paper, an open-ended one with no word limit or additional cues, "If you want to be wealthy, first..."