ATLAS TRANSLATES

His question made both Tao Zhi and Jiang Qi Huai pause.

Though there wasn’t anything wrong with it, when he put it that way, it somehow felt strangely awkward.

“We just had breakfast together,” Tao Zhi hopped in place a couple times, shrinking her neck from the cold, “At that congee shop in front of the west gate.”

“Oh! That place has pretty good congee, and the rice sausage is tasty too.” Li Shuang Jiang’s attention was immediately diverted. He waved his hand, “Well, I’ll go first. I’ll check if Zhao Ming and Old Jiang are here yet.”

Tao Zhi watched him run ahead, let out a sigh of relief, and secretly glanced at Jiang Qi Huai from the corner of her eye.

After finishing breakfast, that somewhat lazy, sleepy air about him had faded away, and he had returned to his usual cold and indifferent demeanor.

Because of the inexplicable awkwardness from earlier, Tao Zhi didn’t speak to Jiang Qi Huai anymore. The two walked in silence into campus toward the teaching building.

It wasn’t quite 7:15 yet, and there weren’t many people at school. When they reached the third floor, Tao Zhi could hear Li Shuang Jiang wailing in their classroom from far down the hallway.

When Tao Zhi reached the classroom door, there were quite a few people inside. That group who got drunk yesterday were all frantically writing at their desks. Zhao Ming Qi had a pen in each hand, sweating profusely as he worked without even looking up.

When he saw Jiang Qi Huai come in, he didn’t care about Scholar Jiang’s cold and unapproachable aura anymore, and recklessly ran over with a shout: “Brother Huai!”

Jiang Qi Huai walked to his seat and looked up.

“Brother Huai, did you do the homework?” Zhao Ming Qi looked at him hopefully.

Without a word, Jiang Qi Huai stood and unzipped his backpack, pulling out a stack of worksheets and exercise books from various subjects, and handed them all over.

Zhao Ming Qi cheered and bounced back to his seat. Several people rushed over like hungry wolves fighting over food, gathering around in a circle.

Tao Zhi watched with amusement, returned to her seat, and also opened her backpack. After some thought, she pulled out her Chinese language workbook, then slowly fished out a gel pen.

She opened the workbook, clicked the pen tip a couple times, and lowered her head to look at the questions.

It had been a long time since she had actually completed homework for any subject by herself.

Tao Zhi wasn’t sure if it was because Ji Fan had arrived and she felt that as an older sister she couldn’t let her grades fall behind her brother’s, or if it was because of Jiang Qi Huai’s comment “Can’t you write your own homework for just one subject.”

Before, many people had talked to her about her grades, until eventually even the teachers and Old Tao gave up. Although at their age academic performance and scores still carried the most weight, Tao Zhi never felt there was anything wrong with how she was.

She vaguely felt that something very subtle had changed within her. Her long-sealed pride regarding academic performance had suddenly started stirring.

But Tao Zhi couldn’t find the source of what made her waver.

While she was lost in thought holding her pen, she suddenly felt something lightly tap her head.

Tao Zhi turned around.

Jiang Qi Huai was holding a Chinese language workbook suspended above her head. Seeing her turn around, he lowered it slightly, his face expressionless as he handed it to her.

Tao Zhi was startled: “What’s this?”

“Chinese.”

Tao Zhi didn’t understand.

Jiang Qi Huai said flatly: “Are you going to copy it or not?”

Tao Zhi turned her head to look at Li Shuang Jiang and the others performing their hungry wolf act at the other end of the classroom: “Didn’t you give all your homework to them?”

The workbook in Jiang Qi Huai’s hand lowered slightly: “You haven’t done your Chinese homework, right?”

Tao Zhi lowered her eyes, quietly looking at the workbook for a few seconds, then suddenly raised her hand to cover her chest.

Jiang Qi Huai watched her.

“What should I do,” Tao Zhi raised her head, frowning as she said, “Such a gentle prince makes my heart flutter.”

Jiang Qi Huai: “…”

“Cut down on the drama,” Jiang Qi Huai said expressionlessly.

Tao Zhi pouted, lowered her hand, and waved him off very grandly: “This young master doesn’t need it. This young master will write their own Chinese homework today.”

She turned back around and seriously looked at the questions.

Question one: Which of the following underlined characters has incorrect pronunciation? ( )

Tao Zhi: “…”

She looked at the row of obscure characters below and felt conflicted.

It felt like both A and C were correct.

She picked at her nails, hesitated for a moment, but still slowly turned around with her workbook.

Jiang Qi Huai was looking at vocabulary words, heard the movement and looked up at her, raising an eyebrow.

That expression seemed to say: Weren’t you going to do it yourself?

Tao Zhi cleared her throat, laid the workbook flat on his desk, pointed her pen tip at one of the characters she wasn’t sure about, and asked in a small voice: “Is this pronunciation correct…”

The corner of Jiang Qi Huai’s lips curved up very slightly for a moment: “It’s wrong.”

Tao Zhi made an “oh” sound, hesitated for a moment, then chose C.

After choosing, she looked up at him again.

“Don’t look at me, look at the questions, do them yourself,” the prince said mercilessly, leaning against his chair.

Tao Zhi puffed her cheeks and continued to the next question.

Chinese was different from subjects like math and physics. With physics, if you didn’t attend class you really couldn’t understand anything at all, but with Chinese, unless your foundation was extremely poor, you could still work through the practice questions.

After completing several questions, Tao Zhi actually got absorbed in it.

Jiang Qi Huai glanced up.

The young girl was lying sideways on his desk, the end of her pen against her chin tip, her long eyelashes lowered, lips slightly pursed, strands of black hair falling against her fair neck, looking focused and serious.

When she got to the classical poetry fill-in-the-blank section, probably because she hadn’t memorized it, she frowned and bit her lip in worry, not writing anything for a long time.

“Yi er che lai, yi wo hui qian,” Jiang Qi Huai suddenly said.

Tao Zhi looked up.

She had a pair of very beautiful eyes, with pitch-black pupils and thick eyelashes like small brushes. Her eyes were narrow and slightly upturned at the corners, giving off a hint of allure and aggression.

But those black eyes were bright and pure, carrying an untainted innocence, as if they could purify all the sins in the world.

Looking at those eyes, Jiang Qi Huai said in a low, cool voice: “You come with your carriage to marry me, I’ll bring my dowry and marry you.”

The morning breeze stirred the light blue curtains. One end of the classroom was noisy and clamorous, but the other end was completely quiet.

Tao Zhi felt her heart skip a beat.

The two looked at each other, seemingly for a century, yet also seemingly for just a few seconds, until Tao Zhi realized he was just translating the meaning of this classical poetry line.

She blinked, writing down the second half of the line. She wrote character by character, her mind uncontrollably circling around the words the young man had just said, and the meaning of these four characters.

— I’ll bring my dowry and marry you.

Her pen tip paused, her stopped heart began beating again, then one beat after another, one sound after another, surging like stormy waves getting stronger and stronger.

Tao Zhi felt inexplicably flustered. She felt something wasn’t right with herself and needed to stop it, to clear her head a bit.

She chose her most practiced method.

The hand that wasn’t holding the pen secretly moved under the desk, then silently jabbed herself in the stomach.

She had already eaten a bit too much at breakfast, and with this punch, the food in her stomach started churning.

“Ugh.” Tao Zhi couldn’t help but dry heave.

The quiet was broken just like that.

Jiang Qi Huai: “…”

Tao Zhi: “…”

When Tao Zhi finally managed to finish writing the Chinese workbook, Li Shuang Jiang and the others had also just finished copying their homework in chaos.

The classroom was mostly full now. Li Shuang Jiang bounced over to return Jiang Qi Huai’s homework, and also cupped his hands: “Brother Huai, we can never repay your great kindness. In the future if you have any requests, just let us know.”

Before Jiang Qi Huai could speak, Tao Zhi turned around holding her completed workbook and patted his arm: “Teacher Wang is coming.”

Li Shuang Jiang flew back to his seat.

On the last day of the weekend, everyone was somewhat lazy, and even their attention and focus during class dropped a few notches.

Fu Xi Ling had also stayed up a bit late last night, and now wasn’t very focused, propping up her head and secretly yawning.

Ji Fan simply didn’t come.

Tao Zhi had successfully written homework for one subject through her own ability. This feeling was so long forgotten for her that it made her happy all morning. Even though she had only slept a few hours, she didn’t feel tired, and energetically attended several classes.

During Chinese class, Tao Zhi conscientiously followed along checking answers with her red pen.

Every few questions in the workbook needed to be marked with red pen and corrected to the right answer. Although Jiang Qi Huai had helped her complete it, the accuracy rate was still far from her usual copied homework.

After checking all the answers, Tao Zhi flipped through the pages while admiring them, feeling this accuracy rate was already very impressive for her.

Tao Zhi was very satisfied with herself.

As soon as the class-ending bell rang, she eagerly turned around holding her workbook, wanting to share with Jiang Qi Huai: “Your Highness!”

The physics class representative called out almost simultaneously: “Brother Huai!”

Tao Zhi stopped speaking, and Jiang Qi Huai turned around.

“Teacher Wang is looking for you, seems it’s about the physics competition,” the physics class representative said.

Jiang Qi Huai nodded, stood up, and glanced down at Tao Zhi.

Tao Zhi made a “please go ahead” gesture.

Jiang Qi Huai left the classroom.

Tao Zhi turned back around holding her workbook, her fingers tapping on it, but the entire break passed, and even until Wang Er came into the classroom carrying test papers, Jiang Qi Huai hadn’t returned.

As one of the famous Wang Brothers at the experimental school, Wang Er’s attention to detail could rival Wang Zhe Zi’s, and he wouldn’t miss any corner. Standing at the podium, he looked around and called out: “Class monitor.”

Tao Zhi looked up.

“Where’s the person behind you?” Wang Er asked.

“The physics teacher called him away,” Tao Zhi said.

Wang Er nodded and asked again: “Where’s Ji Fan?”

This was something Tao Zhi was very familiar with.

When she was in the same class as Song Jiang, they had often covered for each other.

“He got diarrhea this morning and was dehydrated, lying on the ground unable to get up,” Tao Zhi said without batting an eye.

Wang Er waved his hand: “Alright, then let’s start class. I took a look at your homework from yesterday, and I noticed you all generally wrote pretty well. Zhao Ming Qi — where did your half-right-half-wrong spirit go? Writing with such high accuracy, afraid people won’t know you copied? You should at least get a couple wrong.”

Zhao Ming Qi scratched his face guiltily.

After Wang Er had criticized everyone one by one, Jiang Qi Huai came back through the back door.

Tao Zhi started getting restless again. She pulled out her Chinese workbook from her desk drawer and was just about to turn around to show off to him.

The back door was knocked on messily twice more, and Ji Fan came in dragging his backpack.

His face didn’t look good after the hangover, and he was still a bit dazed, clearly having just woken up not long ago.

Wang Er turned around: “Why couldn’t you wait until after my class to come?”

Ji Fan stood at the front and slapped his face, saying hoarsely with a twisted lie: “Teacher, my appendix hurts, I just got back from the hospital.”

Wang Er: “…”

Tao Zhi: “…”

Tao Zhi never expected Ji Fan would come to this class, thinking she would just coordinate stories with him later. She hadn’t even had time to send a WeChat message before he threw himself out as a target.

Wang Er nodded: “Appendicitis, huh.”

Ji Fan also nodded.

“Did the doctor tell you if appendicitis can cause diarrhea and dehydration?” Wang Er continued.

Ji Fan looked confused: “That shouldn’t be possible, right?”

Wang Er laughed: “Go stand outside. After class, we’ll have a good chat.”

Ji Fan went out looking bewildered.

“Class monitor,” Wang Er called again, “Go keep him company outside.”

Tao Zhi: “Me??”

“What do you mean ‘me’? I’m talking about you,” Wang Er said, “You two are quite united, helping cover up for sleeping in? When you figure out whether appendicitis can cause diarrhea, then you can come back in.”

“…”

Tao Zhi resignedly grabbed a notebook and found a pen, then slowly went out.

Ji Fan was leaning against the wall playing on his phone. Seeing her come out, he laughed: “What happened with you?”

Tao Zhi looked dissatisfied: “Why do I have to stand outside with you? You skip class and drag me down too?”

“Then why did you leave by yourself this morning?” Ji Fan said, “I haven’t even complained about you abandoning me.”

Tao Zhi couldn’t be bothered with him. She was in such a good mood today that even being punished to stand outside with Ji Fan couldn’t affect her joyful spirits.

She walked to the side and leaned against the wall, also pulling out her phone from her jacket, then sent several WeChat messages to Jiang Qi Huai.

The scholar never looked at his phone during class. After waiting a while, Jiang Qi Huai didn’t reply.

Tao Zhi took out her notebook and opened it on the window, holding her pen and raising her head, writing quickly.

The experimental school’s classrooms also had windows on the wall facing the corridor, with one window each at the front and back, generally used by Wang Zhe Zi to secretly monitor whether students were paying attention in other classes or playing on their phones.

The window near the back door happened to be right by Jiang Qi Huai and Ji Fan’s seats.

Tao Zhi wrote against the glass for a while, then “pat” slapped her notebook against the window glass, making a very light sound.

Fu Xi Ling heard it and looked up for a moment, then reached back and lightly tapped Jiang Qi Huai’s desk.

Jiang Qi Huai looked over.

Fu Xi Ling pointed upward.

Jiang Qi Huai looked up and saw Tao Zhi with her head against the notebook. On the notebook she had written with gel pen, and worried he couldn’t see clearly, she had traced over it several times to make the strokes thicker.

That page only had two big characters — Your Highness!

Jiang Qi Huai: “…”

Tao Zhi waited five seconds, took down the notebook, saw he had looked up, and buried her head to continue writing, then stuck it back on the glass window.

— I’m so happy!

Tao Zhi pulled the notebook down again to write.

The window was a bit high, making it difficult for her to write. Her arms were getting tired from holding up the notebook, so she pressed her face against it, the large double-page notebook almost covering her entire face.

— I only got nineteen questions wrong in Chinese!!

Jiang Qi Huai couldn’t help but curve his lips into a smile.

Tao Zhi pulled down the notebook for the fourth time and started writing something again.

Wang Er finally noticed the movement over here. He continued lecturing casually while slowly walking over with his book.

Jiang Qi Huai glanced forward and also turned his head, no longer looking toward the window, lowering his head to continue reading.

But Tao Zhi didn’t know. She didn’t look inside, only hearing Wang Er’s lecture coming from the classroom, assuming everything was safe inside.

She finished writing and once again pressed her notebook against the glass window.

Wang Er had already walked to Jiang Qi Huai’s desk.

Outside the window, the young girl pressed her forehead against the notebook, where “check your phone” was written in large characters followed by three huge exclamation marks, joy radiating from between the lines.

Wang Er’s lecture finally stopped.

After pressing the notebook for a while, Tao Zhi finally noticed the lecturing in the classroom had ceased.

She peeked out with a pair of eyes above her notebook, curiously looking inside.

Wang Er held his book in one hand and used the other to tap the corner of Jiang Qi Huai’s desk: “Jiang Qi Huai.”

Jiang Qi Huai sighed and looked up.

“Your colleague outside wants you to check your phone,” Wang Er said kindly.