Chapter 121: Request From The Literature Club
The excitement of early March gradually stabilized with the passage of time. Those students from other classes or even other grades who ran to Class Eight Grade One during breaks out of curiosity to inquire about A Bite of China Club members finally faded away before arousing the rebellious feelings of everyone in Class Eight.
There were fewer onlookers in the class, but the guests who came to the A Bite of China Club club activity room in the afternoon did not decrease as Classmate Xiang Chuan had imagined with the passage of time. The number of people taking out food was that much, but more and more wanted to dine in. Some students even stayed until the last minute of the afternoon break. Finally, on Monday of the fourth week, Student Council President Wen Tao·Kai had to hold a meeting with the leaders of various clubs under the protest of the club teachers, establishing a magical “A Bite of China Club dine-in rotation schedule for each club.” Two to three clubs’ members could dine in at the A Bite of China Club each day, with one round every two weeks.
When Classmate Xiang Chuan received this document that afternoon, her eye twitched violently. She almost roared at Student Council President Wen Tao, who claimed to condescend to personally deliver the document to the A Bite of China Club but was actually there to mooch freshly baked cake: This is a club! Not a restaurant!
The reason she didn’t erupt on the spot was because Classmate Xiang Chuan herself had realized this problem in the third week. If not for not wanting to disturb the Performance Club’s rehearsal next door, as well as her parents and brother openly and implicitly advising her not to use her pocket money to subsidize the club as expenses, she really wanted to convert this standalone club activity room into a two-story one.
No way around it, there were really too many people. But for safety’s sake, Classmate Xiang Chuan still felt it best to try it for two weeks first to see the effect.
“…That’s the problem-solving approach for this question. Got it?” After finishing the explanation, Ainuo cleared their throat, picked up the juice nearby, and took a satisfying sip to reward their throat that had been smoking from lecturing.
“……………………Oh.” Classmate Xiang Chuan stared dead at the densely packed formulas on the light screen in front of her, squeezing out this one word.
It seemed she didn’t get it. Ouyang Yating and Liang Gong, who were sitting at the small table nearby learning to handmade yam cake, both thought so simultaneously.
“Good afternoon, is this tutoring?” Lu Daiqing walked in, followed by a dense crowd of Literature Club and Physics Club members. Soon the entire club activity room was packed. Little Star No. 1 and Little Star No. 2 immediately ran to the kitchen to stand by. The crowd skillfully opened the light screens at their seats and began ordering food.
“…Class President, if I fail math, I won’t have to repeat a grade, right?” Classmate Xiang Chuan looked up with a world-ending expression on her face, startling even Lu Daiqing.
Lu Daiqing leaned close to Ainuo and asked softly, “Is it that urgent?”
“Urgent to the point where I doubt whether our fleet’s elementary and middle schools even taught math.” Ainuo answered expressionlessly. At first, when tutoring Classmate Xiang Chuan, they would get furious seeing the nonsensical formulas she wrote in the answer field on the light screen. But after three straight days, they gradually stabilized emotionally—no, they became numb.
Lu Daiqing looked puzzled at Ouyang Yating and Liang Gong nearby. Both hurriedly averted their gazes.
Don’t ask! Asking means they had tried hard to teach! Their desolate side profiles told of the painstaking efforts of these past few days. Lu Daiqing, whose observational skills had reached peak, naturally understood instantly.
“Class President, so why, when humans have handed their lives over to AI control, do we teenagers still have to learn math?” Classmate Xiang Chuan suddenly stood up. “Isn’t science supposed to develop to free humans from heavy labor? We’ve developed to the point of soaring through the cosmos—why still learn such tedious numbers—!”
“Alright, alright, sit down.”
Ainuo skillfully went behind her and pressed Classmate Xiang Chuan back down. Turning their head, they saw Lu Daiqing’s stunned expression and explained, “Don’t mind it. Our club president spouts escapism nonsense when their brain capacity overloads.”
“Haha… That speech was pretty good. If your A Bite of China Club weren’t so popular, I’d really want to poach you to our Literature Club. Classmate Xiang Chuan, your attainments in ancient literature, or perhaps… resources? We’re actually quite envious of you in both aspects.” Lu Daiqing simply sat in the seat across from Classmate Xiang Chuan, casually ordering a fruit milk and a slice of apple cake for themselves.
“Better not. I don’t have that talent.” Classmate Xiang Chuan waved her hand tiredly. Although she was a liberal arts student, the last time she did long-form literary creation was… Does a university thesis count? “Besides, we’re only first year high school. How much ink can we have in our bellies? Just read more classic novels.”
“Classic…?”
The familiar drawn-out rising questioning tone at the end of the sentence. Classmate Xiang Chuan looked at the Class President, and sure enough, the familiar bewildered expression made her eye twitch. Although she knew that in the modern era, cultural loss before the 21st century was severe, surely they hadn’t lost every single literary work?
“Uh… Romeo and Juliet—you know that one? Like ones from about the same era, such as The Hunchback of Notre-Dame, Gone with the Wind, and The Count of Monte Cristo, stuff like that.”
Classmate Xiang Chuan rattled off a bunch of books she liked reading in her student days, but the Class President’s blank look turned into four blank looks from the people around.
Alright, she had underestimated the Dark Virus Crisis. This level of purging amounted to a great reshuffle of civilization.
“Classmate Xiang Chuan, have you read all these? Can you lend them to me?” The Class President, coming back to their senses, looked at her with sparkling eyes. In their view, since Classmate Xiang Chuan mentioned these book titles so casually, she must have read them—and frequently!
“Hm? Sure.” Classmate Xiang Chuan, her thinking ability dulled from being tormented by math problems, answered offhandedly.
The next second, she regretted it. The Literature Club peers or senior students sitting primly at the surrounding seats suddenly swarmed over. If not for their remaining restraint as cultured people, they might have directly crowded in and flipped over their table.
“Junior Xiang Chuan, do you have novels from the same era as Romeo and Juliet? I’m researching the script for this drama…”
“Classmate Xiang Chuan, I used my mom’s account to watch your sister’s live stream. Do you have TV series with similar themes to the one in the live stream…”
“Classmate Xiang Chuan, can I borrow those books you just mentioned to read?”
Classmate Xiang Chuan now stared at them in a daze—not scared silly, but her fatigued brain cells hadn’t reacted yet amid this dense crowd. Instead, it made the Literature Club members anxious, instantly drawing the attention of the nearby onlookers.
“Calm down, everyone. The Physics Club classmates are still watching.” The Literature Club club president had somehow slipped behind Classmate Xiang Chuan, adjusted their glasses, and glanced at the noisy club members.
That one glance shut everyone up, but they all kept looking at Classmate Xiang Chuan with expectant eyes.
“Sorry, Classmate Xiang Chuan. Our club members have been unable to control themselves ever since learning that you had contact with ancient textual works like Thirty-Six Stratagems.” The Literature Club club president looked at her somewhat apologetically. “Everyone is genuinely very interested in ancient literary works, especially after encountering ancient phrasing in Xiang Xue sister’s live stream room—they just couldn’t hold back.”
Ancient phrasing? Classical poetry? Classmate Xiang Chuan tilted her head. Modern people’s terms for 21st century culture always made her brain lag for a second or two. “I roughly get your expectations, but the application process for literary works is quite troublesome, so I can’t provide too many books to everyone at once.”
This was true. Last week, because of that Thirty-Six Stratagems matter, the Information Bureau and Cultural Affairs Bureau nearly wore out a path to the Xiang Family gate. For three straight days, they signed all sorts of baffling confidentiality and usage agreements, making Classmate Xiang Chuan frown nonstop. Just one military strategy text caused this much fuss—if she brought out a novel, her home probably wouldn’t quiet down for a week.
But she couldn’t resist the expectant looks from these peers and senior students, so she relented: Not too many, but a few would be okay.
Whoa—
The Literature Club instantly lost their cultured restraint, erupting in cheers nearly enough to lift the roof. Then they began chattering noisily about what literary works they wanted. The Literature Club club president couldn’t hold back either, apologized loudly for their members, and eagerly joined the discussion.
That evening, the Information Bureau’s inbox received an application for using ancient literary works, with the requested book titles being—The Count of Monte Cristo, Dream of the Red Chamber, and Don Quixote.
It was somewhat mixed with personal preferences, Classmate Xiang Chuan thought leisurely as she closed the light screen.
