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墨書 Inktalez
The morning sunlight slipped through the gaps in the curtains and danced across Nezha's face. He frowned and turned over, trying to escape the blinding light, but a deafening alarm shattered his last dream.
"Damn it!" Nezha jolted upright, grabbed his phone, and silenced the alarm. Squinting at the time, he saw it was 8:05.
"Late again!" He jumped out of bed in a rush, frantically searching for clothes. The dorm room was a mess, with clothes and shoes strewn all over the floor, snack bags and drink cans piled high on the desk, and a few apple cores rolling out from under the bed—leftovers from who knows when.
Nezha grabbed what looked like a relatively clean T-shirt and glanced at the jeans on the floor, finally choosing a pair with the fewest holes. He raked his fingers through his signature red hair, snatched up his backpack from the desk, and dashed out.
"Wait—" he suddenly stopped at the door, turned around, and pulled a bottle of hair gel from his desk drawer. Facing a small mirror on the back of the door, he quickly styled his hair before nodding in satisfaction. "Even if I'm late, I have to look good doing it!"
Bursting out of the dorm building, Nezha sprinted down the path, attracting curious glances from passersby. He didn’t care at all; in fact, he skillfully grabbed a meat sandwich from a street vendor as he ran, waving to the vendor. "Put it on my tab, Old Li!"
The vendor chuckled helplessly. "Late again? How many times is this?"
"Don't remind me!" Nezha shouted back without looking, his voice fading as he ran further away. "It's that damn professor's fault for scheduling class at eight in the morning!"
By the time Nezha burst into the classroom, ten minutes of lecture had already passed. Professor Shen Gongbao from the History Department was speaking confidently at the front of the room. He merely glanced at Nezha as he entered before continuing with his lecture.
"Phew—" Nezha sighed in relief as he stealthily found a seat at the back. Just as he was about to take a bite of his meat sandwich, he felt a chill at the back of his neck as if someone were watching him.
Turning around, he met a pair of calm eyes peering at him through gold-rimmed glasses. The pale face and slightly bluish short hair belonged to none other than "Ice Block Face"—Ao Bing—whom he had encountered on the basketball court yesterday.
"Damn it, why are you here?" Nezha muttered under his breath instinctively.
Ao Bing glanced at him expressionlessly, then gently shook his head and redirected his attention back to the podium.
Nezha felt a surge of inexplicable anger. What did that mean? Was he looking down on him? Or mocking him for being late? Just as he was about to say something, he caught Professor Shen Gongbao's sharp gaze directed at him.
"Li Nezha, since you have the energy to chat in class, I assume you are already well-versed in today’s material. Why don’t you answer this: what influence did the ritual culture of the Pre-Qin period have on later generations?"
The classroom fell silent, all eyes focused on Nezha. He froze in place, his expression shifting from anger to embarrassment, then to helplessness, before finally lowering his head and mumbling, "I don’t know..."
"I suggest you either pay attention or come to my office after class for a makeup session on the historical knowledge you seem to be missing," Professor Shen Gongbao said, though there was a hint of meaning in his eyes that Nezha couldn’t decipher. "For today, I’ll let it slide."
A faint chuckle rippled through the classroom, and Nezha's face turned bright red. He shot a fierce glare at Ao Bing as if blaming him for everything. Ao Bing slightly furrowed his brow but maintained his calm demeanor, simply adjusting his glasses and continuing to focus on the lecture.
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