I Might Have Fallen in Love With My Childhood Sweetheart
Chapter 133 - 129: Even the Great God Can’t Do It?

Chapter 133: Chapter 129: Even the Great God Can’t Do It?

Qingran has her own set of strategies for taking notes.

While the teacher speaks, her gaze is fixed on the blackboard, where her hand holding a pen has already begun moving on her notebook, every word that the teacher writes on the blackboard appearing on her pages.

When Xie Ying’an first became her desk mate, he was amazed by this aspect of her.

Professor Yan’s lectures proceed at such a quick pace, yet she can still remember every key point clearly.

Now, not only did Qi He dare not question Qingran’s grades, but even Yang Xuetin held her peace.

After all, not everyone is capable of multitasking like that.

"I’ve been taking notes this way since elementary school," Qingran explained to Qi He, who kept doggedly asking her for her ’secret technique’. "I realized back in elementary school that my memory wasn’t that good when it came to studying. As I learned more characters, I started taking notes..."

Qingran didn’t mention this idea had been her mother’s.

Mommy Li, who adored her daughter, was a gentle and empathetic woman; undoubtedly, she loved Qingran deeply and hated to see her suffer any grievances.

Though always diligent with her studies, Qingran’s grades just weren’t improving, and Mrs. Li was even more anxious than Qingran herself, eventually coming up with the idea for Qingran to take notes.

At first, Qingran’s notes were messy and chaotic, words crushed together so densely that sometimes even she couldn’t understand what she had written. But back at home, Mrs. Li would always help her organize them.

Truth be told, this gesture was very encouraging to Qingran.

Later on, as she grew accustomed to it, her writing was quick and well-done even without looking at the notebook.

In the end, the credit for Qingran’s improved grades and habitual note-taking goes to Mrs. Li.

After hearing Qingran’s explanation, Qi He’s eyes gradually lost some of their brightness, her voice tinged with disappointment: "Unfortunately, I didn’t develop this habit from a young age."

Not having this habit and still making it into the top fifty of the grade, aren’t you much more amazing?

Li Qingmo tugged at Qingran’s ponytail from behind, "Li Qingran, hand over your notebook for me to check."

Qingran hurriedly tossed her notebook to him, freeing her hair in the process.

Xie Ying’an frowned and cast a glance at Li Qingmo.

Li Qingmo bristled at Xie Ying’an, staring at him: "What are you looking at? I’m bullying my own sister, not yours!"

Xie Ying’an: "..."

Huh! Does bullying his own sister make it reasonable?

With the school bully’s roar, the classroom fell silent for a moment, only becoming noisy again when Li Qingmo returned to focusing on his assignments.

Qingran’s eyes wandered between Li Qingmo and Xie Ying’an. She ignored her unreasonable older brother, leaning over the desk, and whispered to Xie Ying’an: "Are you having a conflict with my brother?"

Li Qingmo usually didn’t treat Xie Ying’an like this; their rapport had always been a one-sided friendship on Li Qingmo’s part.

When had he ever shown Xie Ying’an a cold shoulder?

How self-righteous!

Xie Ying’an could guess the probable cause, but that was definitely not something to discuss with Qingran.

So he shook his head: "No."

Qingran always trusted Xie Ying’an, and she was used to her brother’s occasional outbursts, too lazy to bother with him, and continued to focus on solving problems.

No one dared to challenge Professor Yan’s speedy lecturing.

During the afternoon class, after he finished explaining a problem, he directed a question at Wen Shiyi.

Wen Shiyi didn’t know the answer and hung her head in some shame and frustration.

Professor Yan grew somewhat angry and proceeded to question a boy in the second row.

The boy pushed up his thick glasses, resembling the bottom of a beer bottle, and stood looking at the problem for a while but couldn’t articulate a satisfactory explanation.

Now Professor Yan was genuinely angry. He threw the textbook he held onto the lectern, scanning the classroom with his gaze. The students, too frightened to even breathe heavily, bowed their heads as if they were quails.

Professor Yan’s gaze fell on Qingran.

Qingran tensed up, the bad premonition growing intense — she was only half-aware of the answer to this question.

Sure enough, the next second Professor Yan called her out: "Li... Qing, Rán, is it?"

Qingran resignedly stood up.

Professor Yan pointed to the multiple-choice question on the blackboard that several students had failed to answer: "You tell us the answer to this question."

As if he had predetermined that Qingran would know the answer.

Xie Ying’an gently tapped on the desk. Qingran cast her eyes down and immediately saw the glaring answer on the white paper.

The answer was A.

Qingran had never cheated before. She considered herself a good student. To speak out of turn was not shameful, but cheating definitely was.

She diverted her gaze and recounted her own thought process for solving the question, then stated the answer she believed to be correct: "...So I think the answer should be C."

Professor Yan’s expression did not improve. He wrote Qingran’s steps in full on the blackboard, did not let her sit down, and then called Xie Ying’an’s name.

"Xie Ying’an, you tell us the answer to this question and your steps for solving it."

Xie Ying’an stood up, casually pressing down his draft paper. He glanced at the question nonchalantly before saying, "My answer is the same as Li Qingran’s."

Especially when saying the three words ’Li Qingran,’ he pronounced them heavily and clearly.

Qingran cast a surprised glance at Xie Ying’an, not understanding why he would not say the answer he had figured out.

The youth looked at the blackboard, neither humble nor arrogant, showing no sign of guilt from altering the answer.

Professor Yan took several deep breaths; he simply ignored them and asked the other students in the classroom, "Is there anyone else who thinks this answer is incorrect? Or has a different answer?"

The classroom was so quiet you could hear a pin drop; only a few students shook their heads when Professor Yan looked their way.

The material had never been encountered before, and suddenly accelerating the pace was counterproductive—no one could become fattened all at once.

Finally, Professor Yan allowed the four of them to sit down, then picked up the chalk to give a detailed explanation of the question on the board.

The answer was indeed A. C was merely one of the misleading conditions.

"Is it difficult?" Professor Yan put down the chalk and leaned on both sides of the desk, looking down at them and asking, "If you don’t know how to do it, why didn’t anyone bring it up?"

In the beginning, some people did bring it up, but what did that account for? Professor Yan always moved through the problems so quickly. Would they just keep asking indefinitely?

So eventually, no one brought up their inability to understand.

Another main reason was the presence of the genius, Xie Ying’an, in their class.

Not understanding something?

First, go ask Li Qingran. If Li Qingran does not know, she would naturally ask her deskmate.

The methods used by Xie Ying’an to solve problems were certainly covered in their lessons, even though sometimes many formulas had to be applied. But in the end, weren’t these all things they had learned?

As long as the answers were given, they could simply memorize them by heart. Was there any worry about not being able to solve a problem?

However, they truly did not anticipate that even the genius Xie Ying’an would not know the answer to today’s question.

"Professor?"

Qi He, sitting in front of Qingran, timidly raised her hand and stood up, feeling obligated to speak, "I have something to say."

Professor Yan nodded, signaling her to speak: "What is it?"

Qi He paused for a moment, organizing her thoughts before saying, "Professor, Li Qingran’s notes are the most comprehensive I’ve ever seen. If you’re covering topics that even Li Qingran doesn’t know how to solve, then you probably don’t need to ask the other students."

Professor Yan was taken aback, his gaze turning back to Qingran, his murky eyes devoid of expression.

Qingran kept a smiling face, but inside she was cursing.

I mean, Qi He, can’t you see Professor Yan doesn’t like me? And yet you’re using me as a shield!

That’s too much.

In the following two classes, Qingran finally understood what infernal torment was.

For every one or two problems Professor Yan lectured on, he would question her. Thankfully, Qingran was able to answer most questions, and on the few occasions she answered incorrectly, Professor Yan asked the other students, who were not as adept as Qingran.

As the class was nearing its end, Qingran correctly answered the last question posed by Professor Yan.

Only then did a hint of a smile appear on Professor Yan’s face. Who doesn’t like a smart student?

Upon descending from the podium and seeing Qingran’s notes, the professor, well past his fifties, wore full appreciation on his face: "Li Qingran, you’ve done quite well. Listening intently to each question, and especially these well-crafted notes, is something the rest of you should learn from."

The entire classroom echoed with affirmations of "Yes," except for Wen Shiyi who remained silent, head bowed.