Proactively Attracted chapter 9

 Good Brothers

Lu Xingjia blinked, resting his arm on the desk and turning his head slightly to look at Qin Mudong.

Qin Mudong was silently memorizing his textbook. Unlike other students who preferred reading aloud, he had the habit of tracing the lines with his finger as he read, his thin lips moving silently—so quiet, yet somehow even more intense.

The soft morning sunlight poured in, highlighting the bridge of his tall nose and the deep contours of his eyes and brows, casting a faint shadow across his face.

He looked so good it felt wrong to interrupt him.

Lu Xingjia was still hesitating when the bell for the end of morning reading rang.

Ji Angran finished organizing his homework and turned to Lu Xingjia. “Jia Jia, you haven’t handed in your physics homework yet, right?”

Lu Xingjia scratched his head awkwardly. “I-I’m not turning it in yet. You go ahead and hand yours to Chu Ge first.”

Ji Angran shared a desk with Qiu Ruifeng. The four of them sat in a front-back arrangement, making up one small group. Qin Mudong never took part in group discussions, Qiu Ruifeng was a bit of a slacker, and since Ji Angran had a decent impression of Lu Xingjia, he hesitated before reminding, “If you don’t turn it in… your name will be noted down.”

Not wanting to trouble him, Lu Xingjia quickly said, “It’s okay, really. Just write my name down—I haven’t figured it out, so I can’t turn it in.”

“Alright then.” Ji Angran gave him a helpless look and jotted his name down on a sticky note.

Once the homework was handed in, the motivation that had been driving Lu Xingjia vanished. He gave up on stressing over it and decided to just finish it during the lunch break.

Not long after, Ji Angran came back carrying a huge stack of papers, and the classroom instantly buzzed with noise.

Zhang Chuchu followed behind him and called for the students in the front row to come count the test sheets.

In an instant, the green spinach-colored test papers scattered throughout the classroom like confetti, a leafy green cloud hovering over everyone’s heads.

Zhang Chuchu walked up to the podium and wrote big characters on the blackboard: “In-Class Test.”

“Before you know it, it’s been a week since school started. I believe you’ve all formed at least a basic understanding of physics competitions after this week. I’ve prepared a few questions—just a short in-class test—to get a sense of where everyone stands.”

Zhang Chuchu smiled innocently, but groans erupted across the classroom.

“No way—an exam already? That’s savage.”

“And the questions are written by Chu Ge? Just kill me now!”

“Smack! I’m dead! Can I skip it?”

…

Zhang Chuchu crossed his arms and smirked at the dramatic students. “I’ve already started the timer. Don’t come crying later if you can’t finish.”

The moment he said that, the previously goofing-off students instantly straightened up. They grabbed their test papers, folded them in half, scribbled down their names, and began furiously solving problems.

Lu Xingjia also received his copy from the front and carefully wrote his name at the top.

Chu Ge had coached many competition students before. He was young, sharp-minded, and loved to give flexible, unconventional questions. On top of that, it was just the start of the school year, and everyone was still distracted. Every evening self-study session was full of chatter. He wanted to send a wake-up call, so he dropped a few adapted real competition questions that immediately left everyone stunned.

As for Lu Xingjia, he hadn’t even slept well last night, so his brain was already fuzzy. Now, with a physics test thrown at him, it was just adding insult to injury.

He forced himself to focus and filled in the multiple-choice and short-answer questions. But when he got to the big problems at the end, his mind went completely blank.

Two class periods later, Chu Ge came around to collect the papers right on time. The classroom filled with groans and wails.

“I’m really done for. My brain cells are completely drained,” Qiu Ruifeng groaned as he lay on the desk, pounding his head. Ji Angran didn’t look much better. After just one test, his lips were chapped, and his eyes were filled with despair.

Only Qin Mudong had finished early and even managed to take a nap at his desk.

Lu Xingjia snuck a glance at his paper. His handwriting was bold and elegant, each answer written thoroughly and confidently.

This was the difference between a study god and a mere mortal.

But Lu Xingjia wasn’t too upset. His physics had always been just average in his past life, and it had been over a decade since he last touched the subject. There was no way he could make up for it overnight. Other than eating an extra bowl of rice at lunch due to the mental drain, he didn’t feel particularly discouraged.

Qiu Ruifeng, on the other hand, was still fuming over the test, stuffing food into his mouth as he ranted, “Chu Ge is seriously evil. The questions were way too hard! And so many of them! I wrote non-stop and still left two big questions blank!”

Lu Xingjia quietly counted how many questions he’d left unanswered, then silently picked up a piece of meat and popped it in his mouth.

Qiu Ruifeng continued ranting, “Who the hell could finish all that?! Anyone who did must be a total freak!”

Of course, someone did finish it!

Lu Xingjia immediately chimed in, “Qin Mudong finished.”

“Duh!” Qiu Ruifeng shot him a look. “He’s a study god. You can’t compare us mere mortals to him.”

Lu Xingjia loved it when people praised Qin Mudong. His eyes squinted happily, and he nodded enthusiastically. “Mudong Ge has always been super amazing!”

Caught off guard, Qiu Ruifeng paused before asking, “Wait, what’s your relationship with him? He finishes the test and you’re happier than he is?”

“What kind of relationship?” Lu Xingjia chewed on his chopsticks and muttered under his breath, glancing around instinctively.

He’d been totally spooked by Qin Mudong’s sudden appearance last time and didn’t want to get caught in the act again.

After scanning the area and not seeing that cool, tall figure anywhere, Lu Xingjia poked at his rice, a faint, unnatural blush spreading across his cheeks.
“…Just good brothers,” he muttered.

Aside from his little selfish motive, Lu Xingjia had actually thought this through carefully.

Qin Mudong was too aloof — always keeping to himself. While no one said it outright, people privately thought he was difficult to get along with, antisocial. Over time, this kind of impression would only isolate him further. It was a vicious cycle.

Besides, Lu Xingjia had a three-year blank in his middle school record, and coincidentally, Qin Mudong’s personality shift had occurred during that same period. There were plenty of students here who had gone to middle school with him. If he could pull off the “good friends” label, he might be able to get some useful information.

As for how Qin Mudong himself would take it… Lu Xingjia quietly comforted himself: He probably wouldn’t mind such a small thing, right?

In short, no matter what their actual relationship was, they had to seem real in other people’s eyes.

Lu Xingjia thought about it, then added, “Better than just good brothers.”

Qiu Ruifeng choked on his food and stared at him suspiciously, eyes wide in disbelief.

It wasn’t his fault — their personalities were just so different. One was an untouchable flower on a mountaintop, the other a noisy little sparrow hopping along the roadside. It was almost impossible to imagine them together.

Wait a minute — he suddenly remembered that oversized school uniform Lu Xingjia had worn yesterday.
That little sparrow had already flown up and started picking at that cold flower on the mountain!

Qiu Ruifeng’s expression shifted as he looked at Lu Xingjia, his eyes now filled with newfound respect.
“Bro, if you’re that close with Qin Mudong, I gotta salute you. That takes guts.”

Lu Xingjia grinned like a sly little fox, heart full of sweetness, though he pretended to be modest:
“It’s not that big a deal. We’ve been close for years. He’s always really looked out for me.”

Qiu Ruifeng got more curious and pulled Lu Xingjia aside to ask all sorts of questions. By the end of the conversation, not only was Qiu Ruifeng convinced, Lu Xingjia himself almost believed something really was going on between them.

By the time they finished lunch, Lu Xingjia was floating in a daze. Qiu Ruifeng gave his shoulder an envious pat.
“Man, must be nice — having a genius by your side to rely on. No stress about physics questions at all.”

That actually reminded Lu Xingjia — he hadn’t finished last night’s physics problems yet.

Once back in the classroom, he hurried to his seat and began tackling the two remaining questions.

The room was quiet, and Lu Xingjia could finally focus. But the calm didn’t last long. Footsteps approached, and soon Zhang Chuchu walked through the door.

Qiu Ruifeng, still sitting at the podium flipping through a magazine, looked up in surprise.
“Chu Ge? What are you doing here in the middle of lunch?”

Zhang Chuchu smiled. “Can’t I stop by to check on you?”

Qiu Ruifeng quickly replied, “Of course, of course! Please do.”

Zhang Chuchu didn’t say anything more to him. His gaze swept across the classroom, landing on Lu Xingjia in the corner. He waved.
“Lu Xingjia, come with me to the office for a minute.”

Lu Xingjia’s heart skipped a beat, his right eyelid twitching twice involuntarily.

“…Okay.” He obediently stood up and followed Zhang Chuchu all the way to the office.

It was lunchtime, so the office was empty. Zhang Chuchu led him to his own desk, where Lu Xingjia immediately spotted a familiar test paper laid out — his own.

“Have a seat.”

Zhang Chuchu didn’t come across as aggressive. He even brought over a chair for him.
“Don’t be nervous. I just wanted to have a quick chat about how you really feel.”

He handed over the half-empty test. “Take a look at it first.”

Lu Xingjia glanced it over. Besides leaving the last few big questions blank, he’d made several careless mistakes on the multiple-choice and fill-in-the-blank sections too — either by overlooking possible options in a multiple-select, or by misreading the question entirely.

“I’m sorry, Chu Ge. I didn’t do well.” Lu Xingjia bowed his head, guilt written all over his face.

“You don’t owe me an apology,” Zhang Chuchu said gently, casting a quick glance at the pile of homework next to his desk — a sticky note on top had only one name: Lu Xingjia.
“Learning is your own responsibility. I just want to ask — do you really want to study competition physics?”