Chapter Seventeen: The Wager

Even though Zhao Fei had saved Gong Xiang, his reputation as the king of street fights always made Gong Xiang uneasy. Now, seeing this tall, burly man subdue Zhao Fei in one swift move, he was more startled than ever.

A terrifying sound came from Zhao Fei’s throat as he was choked, utterly powerless to resist.

“Wang Wu, let go! He’s my classmate!” Jiang Xiwen shouted anxiously. Judging by the situation, Zhao Fei wouldn’t last much longer.

“Ah, Xiwen, what are you doing here?” Wang Wu turned his head, surprised and curious, slackening his grip a little. “He’s your classmate?”

Gong Xiang blurted out, “Wait, Xiwen, you know this big guy?”

Jiang Xiwen nodded hurriedly, saying, “Wang Wu, let him go! You’ll kill him if you keep choking like that.”

“Oh!” Wang Wu suddenly let go, glancing from Jiang Xiwen to Zhao Fei, who was now coughing violently, his face flushed. With a look of confusion, he said, “You’re my friend, so you’re good. But he stole a book, so he’s bad. Why should I let him go?”

“I’m a bad guy, so what?” Zhao Fei spat angrily, catching his breath. “If my old man wasn’t so stingy, I wouldn’t care about some crappy book anyway!”

Not only did he fight, he stole books too. Gong Xiang glanced at Zhao Fei, wanting to leave, but since Jiang Xiwen didn’t move, he stayed put.

For the sake of Teacher Zhao Gang, Jiang Xiwen planned to persuade Wang Wu to simply return the book, hoping to avoid any further trouble. But when he noticed the book was a computer programming textbook, he changed his mind.

“Wang Wu, I’ll pay for the book. Give it back to him,” Jiang Xiwen said seriously. “We’ll return the money to the bookstore in a bit.”

His words startled all three others. Wang Wu was dumbfounded, unable to understand his reasoning. Gong Xiang frowned, inwardly blaming Jiang Xiwen for meddling. Zhao Fei, even more confused, stared wide-eyed, unable to grasp why Jiang Xiwen would help him.

“Why?” Wang Wu asked, word by word, not in accusation but in bewilderment. “He stole a book. You’re helping him?”

Jiang Xiwen replied in Wang Wu’s habitual manner, “Let me ask you, Wang Wu: If someone risks his life to save another, is he good or bad?”

Wang Wu answered instinctively, “Of course he’s good.”

Jiang Xiwen pointed at Gong Xiang. “Just now, a gang of punks tried to take my friend Gong Xiang away. Zhao Fei saved us. This is just a study book, and he was only late in paying for it.”

As he spoke, Jiang Xiwen took the book, checked the price—five yuan—then took money from his pocket and pressed it into Wang Wu’s hand. It was part of the registration fee his parents had given him for the computer competition.

Less than four days after returning to this life, Jiang Xiwen was already broke, far more desperate than the protagonists in those internet rebirth novels. Of course, he didn’t care at all, nor was he worried.

“You’re…” Zhao Fei looked at Jiang Xiwen with some gratitude.

Wang Wu still didn’t quite get it, his brow furrowed as if struggling with a difficult problem. This big, simple-minded man only saw the world in black and white. People had tried to tell him otherwise before, but he never believed it.

Now, his new friend Jiang Xiwen was teaching him through actions that many things needed to be seen from another perspective.

Gong Xiang, who hadn’t managed to get a word in, finally found his chance. Seeing that Zhao Fei’s eyes had lost their earlier coldness and that his aggression had faded, Gong Xiang felt his own hostility toward him ease. Remembering he hadn’t thanked Zhao Fei, he took the book from Jiang Xiwen and said, “Zhao Fei, don’t mention it. I’ll pay for the book, and I’ll reimburse Jiang Xiwen later. Thanks for saving me just now. If those guys had taken me, who knows what would have happened.”

The thought of those thugs still made Gong Xiang uneasy.

But when Zhao Fei heard the name “Jiang Xiwen,” he ignored Gong Xiang’s words. His expression reverted to its former coldness as he looked at Jiang Xiwen and asked, “You’re Jiang Xiwen? The one representing Second High in the computer competition?”

Jiang Xiwen nodded with a smile. “I heard you enjoy programming too. We’re kindred spirits.”

Zhao Fei sneered, snatching the book and slamming it to the ground. “Who needs your fake kindness? There were three spots for the computer competition, but you took them all for yourself! I begged for a chance all through junior high, never got one, and the minute you turn up, you snatch it away—there’s something shady going on for sure! Those teachers are all the same, looking down on me just because my grades are bad. Does that mean I can’t be good at computers? All I want is for my old man to respect me!”

The more Zhao Fei spoke, the more worked up he became. Wang Wu, still deep in thought, paid no attention to his words. Gong Xiang watched the notorious fighter’s outburst with surprise, even a touch of sympathy.

Jiang Xiwen hadn’t expected Zhao Fei to be so sensitive, so persistent, so desperate for his father’s approval. Everyone at school knew Zhao Fei often argued and even fought with his father.

A student failing every subject, seen as hopeless by all the teachers, finally excelling in computers—of course he would pour his heart into it. Even if it was just an extracurricular group, it was enough to restore some of Zhao Fei’s crumbling confidence. How many geniuses had exam-driven education systems destroyed!

Jiang Xiwen resolved to change his fate, to save him from the miserable path of his previous life.

“All you want is to enter a competition, right? That honor is easy to get. I can talk to Mr. Qi Huanchang and get you a spot. If you just like programming, come to the computer lab and study. As for these childish contests, I’m not interested at all. I only signed up because it gets me out of class. I’ve only known Qi Huanchang a few days—if you want something, you earn it with your own ability, not by standing here spouting off. If you want to know how good I am at programming, come to the lab tomorrow and we’ll see who’s better!”

After Jiang Xiwen finished speaking, Zhao Fei was momentarily stunned. He hadn’t expected Jiang Xiwen to dislike classes as much as he did. But he was right—if even a junior high kid could earn a spot, why couldn’t he?

With that, Zhao Fei said, “Deal. I’ll be there tomorrow morning!” With a final glance at the book on the ground, he dashed off.

As soon as Zhao Fei left, Wang Wu said, “Xiwen, what you said makes sense. I need to go home and think about it. I’ll take this book back to the store. See you later.” And with that, he was gone.

Gong Xiang, looking around in all directions, pursed his lips. “Two weirdos. That king of fighters really surprised me today. Maybe he’s not as bad as the rumors say. And Xiwen, why does Wang Wu seem kind of slow? Do you know him?”

“I’ve only known him for two days. He’s honest, not slow. Most people avoid him, but I like the guy—he’s straightforward, a good sort,” Jiang Xiwen explained.

“Wow, you’re starting to become a weirdo yourself. The things you’ve done these past few days are really eye-opening! Come on, let’s go to my place and play a few rounds of Samurai Spirits. What a rotten day! By the way, you kept stopping me from going out this morning, then insisted on coming with me, and kept looking around on the way. Did you know something was going to happen?”