Chapter 9 - Deeply In Love With You [Quick Transmigration]

Translator's Note:

Hello, I hope you've all been doing well. I have decided to pick up a second Quick Transmigration novel. This time, the gong is the MC and I hope you appreciate this novel as much as I do.

Here you go, and I wish you a good read.

And, as I said before, if you wish to read ahead, you can head over to my Patreon to get early access to all the translated chapters, or puchase advanced chapters on Gumroad. (40% discount code: DILWY)

Holding Back

 

 

Under the shade of the trees, a moment of silence passed. Lin Heng was just beginning to wonder if he'd pushed the joke too far when he heard a quiet, "Okay."

 

This guy might seem reserved, but he was actually easy to talk to.

 

"With midterms over, they'll probably rearrange the seating chart," Lin Heng said with a smile. "Want to be desk mates? Even though you've made it to rank three hundred, it's not a stable spot yet. If you're relying only on my notes to understand the next lessons, it might get tough."

 

Zong Que looked at his smiling face through the shifting patterns of light and shade, suddenly recalling that first rainy encounter. He still didn't fully understand this boy—why he would go out of his way to help someone like him, someone others avoided.

 

"Other than teaching me, what do you gain from this?" he asked.

 

Lin Heng blinked, surprised. Then he thought for a moment. "Not everything needs a benefit to be worth doing. But if you insist… the class atmosphere improves, the teachers are happier, and... aren't we friends?"

 

"…Alright," Zong Que agreed. "You should head back."

 

As Lin Heng turned around, he muttered under his breath, "It really does feel like an affair."

 

That mutter stopped the moment Zong Que glanced over. The boy was grinning like a mischievous little fox that had just stolen a chicken. "Are you thinking of hitting me?"

 

"No. Just be careful on your way back." Zong Que didn't see even a hint of fear in him—he turned and walked away.

 

Lin Heng tightened the straps on his backpack and headed off in the opposite direction. In his mind, Zong Que reminded him of something.

 

A paper tiger.

 

Looks fierce. Doesn't fit in. But poke it once, and the illusion shatters.

 

After every major exam, the classroom seating was typically rearranged—top-ranking students chose first, then adjustments were made based on height.

 

One by one, students were called in to pick. Lin Heng had originally sat in the first row by the window. This time, he chose a seat in the third row, still by the window.

 

"Hey Lin Heng, want to sit with me?" a student who entered after him asked.

 

"I already have someone in mind," Lin Heng replied softly.

 

"Oh, okay." The student plopped down in front of him. "Hehe, this spot's good too. Who are you sitting with this time?"

 

"You'll see in a bit," Lin Heng said, watching the rest of the students file in.

 

"Ooh, secretive," the student chuckled.

 

Lin Heng fell silent—not because he wanted to be mysterious, but because if the guy did find out, he might immediately try to switch seats.

 

The area around Lin Heng filled up quickly—except the seat beside him, which remained conspicuously empty.

 

In the past, Zong Que had always been last to be called. He didn't even need to leave the room—his seat in the last row was practically engraved with his name. Towering stacks of books created walls around him, the back door locked, no deskmate. A prime spot for slacking off.

 

But this time, he had ranked fourteenth.

 

"Zong Que," the homeroom teacher called.

 

Every student inside and outside the classroom instantly perked up, eyes tracking his every move.

 

[Host, you're practically the star of the show right now.] 1314 remarked.

 

Zong Que entered the room, walked around the podium, and under the gaze of classmates and teachers alike, took the seat next to Lin Heng.

 

The teacher's brow twitched. The students sitting in front, behind, and beside Zong Que instantly straightened their backs. And the moment they caught sight of Lin Heng's smiling face, they were filled with deep, bitter regret—if they could go back in time, they'd slap their clueless past selves.

 

They'd thought their class monitor had finally come to his senses, making a bold move under the teacher's nose to secretly date a girl.

 

They never imagined… he'd bring back a harbinger of doom.

 

"What are you smiling at?" Zong Que asked in a low voice. Of course he noticed the glances and shifting postures around him. It wasn't surprising—after all, that fight he'd had with a teacher had frightened more than a few classmates.

 

"Nothing," Lin Heng said, hiding his grin. "How does it feel being surrounded by straight-A students?"

 

"Not bad," Zong Que replied evenly.

 

[Technically, it's more like you're surrounding them.] 1314 corrected helpfully.

 

After the seating was finalized and normal classes resumed, most teachers did raise an eyebrow when they saw the new pairing—but students quickly shifted focus elsewhere.

 

The new lessons came fast. In class, the only sounds beyond the teacher's voice were the steady scratch of pens against paper.

 

Zong Que had made up for most of his foundational gaps. Occasionally he'd miss a step in his notes, or write one down incorrectly. During breaks, Lin Heng would compare notes with him and help him fix the errors.

 

"This step is really important," Lin Heng said seriously. "Even if you don't fully understand it, just writing it down gets you points—don't skip it."

 

"Mm." Zong Que filled it in. "Anything else?"

 

"Let me see… this vector formula. The teacher hasn't covered it yet, so don't rush. Master the earlier stuff first," Lin Heng instructed.

 

"Mm." Zong Que nodded.

 

A student sitting nearby had clearly been holding back but finally couldn't resist—he turned around and asked, "Class rep, you've already previewed vectors?"

 

"Yeah. Our teacher loves to test beyond the syllabus. Better to prep in advance," Lin Heng answered casually.

 

"At this rate, we'll finish the entire high school curriculum in our first year," the student muttered, sneaking a glance at Zong Que—then another one when he thought he wouldn't notice.

 

It wasn't that he'd suddenly grown bold. It was just that Zong Que, lately, had been behaving—staying awake in class, not picking fights, even answering questions seriously when called on. He'd gotten a few wrong, but the teacher had praised his effort. It genuinely seemed like he wanted to study.

 

For someone who used to lash out at the slightest provocation, this transformation was baffling to witness.

 

When he stole a third glance, Zong Que looked up from his notebook and caught him red-handed. The boy jolted, flustered, and blurted, "I—I'm Wang Yang. Nice to meet you. If there's anything you don't get, feel free to ask me, alright?"

 

"Mm," Zong Que said, giving him a look before returning to his notes.

 

Wang Yang felt like he'd just dodged a bullet. At the same time, he was slightly giddy—had he just been acknowledged? But then, thinking back on what he'd said, panic set in. He fished out his phone and frantically tapped out a message: Do you think he thinks I'm stupid??

 

He elbowed the back of the desk in front of Lin Heng to get his attention and raised his brows meaningfully. Lin Heng pulled out his phone, glanced at the message, and stifled a laugh: I don't think so. Want me to ask him for you?

 

Wang Yang whipped around, furiously typing: NO NO NO!!!! If you ask, we're done. We're OVER!!!!

 

The flood of exclamation marks said it all—he was serious.

 

Zong Que noticed the twitch in Lin Heng's shoulders, the way he was holding back laughter. He figured at least 50% of that amusement was because of him. To be able to laugh over something so small—yep, definitely still a teenager.

 

Lin Heng chuckled for a good while. But when Zong Que remained focused on his notes, he finally couldn't hold back. "Aren't you the least bit curious what I'm laughing about?"

 

Wang Yang's eyes widened in horror. He shook his head with all his might.

 

If today's incident got out, he wouldn't just have to transfer classes—he'd need to transfer planets. Earth no longer had a place for someone like him…

 

"Not really." Zong Que closed his notebook and glanced toward the schedule by the blackboard. He pulled out his English textbook.

 

Cool, calm, unbothered. Ruthlessly immune to nonsense.

 

Lin Heng: "……"

 

Why doesn't this guy ever play along? I'm dying to tell someone!

 

"Can we make a deal?" Lin Heng asked, desperate, right before class started.

 

"No," Zong Que said flatly.

 

"Why not?" Lin Heng blinked. He'd expected the usual "Mm," not an outright no.

 

"Because then I'd be the one dying to know," Zong Que said as he flipped open his English book.

 

Just judging by Wang Yang's terrified expression, he knew Lin Heng wouldn't tell him. Better not to ask at all.

 

Lin Heng: "……"

 

Wang Yang finally relaxed, shoulders dropping. He gave Zong Que a big thumbs up. "Bro, you're a real one."

 

"No problem," Zong Que replied.

 

[Is this what they call karma?]1314 chuckled at the look of despair on Lin Heng's face.

 

No plot could survive against their host's sheer indifference.

 

Zong Que glanced at the boy beside him, who had lowered his gaze and was reading his book intently. [You should reconsider your word choice.]

 

This should be called breaking the ice.

 

Now that he'd spoken with Wang Yang and was sitting among others, Zong Que's relationship with the class was noticeably softening.

 

"Let's go play ball!" Wang Yang called out that afternoon, cradling a basketball in one arm as he draped the other over Zong Que's shoulder. Before he could even process the gesture, Zong Que had already stood up with him. "Alright."

 

"Let's go!" The others exchanged glances and followed, laughing and teasing all the way.

 

Six players split into two teams and played half-court. There were no formal rules or scorekeeping—whoever got the ball just went for the hoop.

 

"Wang Yang! Pass it here!"

 

"That was a terrible pass!"

 

The ball bounced away—only to be snatched mid-air by Zong Que with a swift leap. Before anyone could react, he had already sunk a shot from beyond the three-point line.

 

The next play, Lin Heng intercepted the ball beautifully and launched a perfect arc straight into Zong Que's waiting hands.

 

As the others rushed to block his shot, Zong Que dodged and passed it back to Lin Heng, who caught it and scored with a smooth three-step layup.

 

Their sweat-slicked palms slapped together with a crisp smack.

 

"Nice one!" Lin Heng said, slightly breathless but grinning.

 

His bangs were damp with sweat, and under the sun, his pale complexion almost seemed to shimmer. He wiped at the moisture casually, his bright smile outshining the sunlight itself.

 

"Mm." Zong Que averted his gaze.

 

"Damn, why are those two on the same team?!"

 

"I didn't even know Zong Que could play this well!" Wang Yang yelled, finally getting his hands on the ball. "Alright, new strategy — those two are teamed up. Everyone, CHARGE!"

 

"Why don't you just be your own team?"

 

The game's rules had been loose from the start, and by the end, everything had descended into chaos—but the laughter and shouts rang far across the court.

 

The May sun was already scorching. When the game ended—no one really knew who had won—some of them stripped off their shirts entirely and headed to the outdoor faucets, rinsing off both their clothes and their sweat in one go.

 

"Ahh, that's the stuff!" Wang Yang draped his soaking shirt over his shoulder, eyeing the two who were still neatly dressed and only washing their hands and necks. "C'mon, what's that gonna clean? Show some guts—don't be shy!"

 

"You should really just go change in the dorms," Lin Heng said, flicking water from his hands.

 

"Change? Nah, I'll just wear this again when it dries," Wang Yang replied.

 

Zong Que turned off the tap, raking his fingers through his dripping hair, revealing sharp, striking features beneath. "Keep doing that and you'll end up with rheumatism when you're older."

 

The others—who'd been about to follow Wang Yang's lead—froze.

 

"…You sound just like my grandma," Wang Yang muttered in disbelief.

 

Zong Que gave him a glance. Wang Yang instinctively took a step back—only for Zong Que to pat his shoulder and walk away without a word.

 

"What did that mean?" Wang Yang whispered urgently to Lin Heng.

 

Lin Heng sighed and patted Wang Yang's shoulder, too. "You're on your own now, buddy. That 'I wanna stab you' look in his eyes wasn't exactly subtle."

 

Wang Yang's face drained of color. He stood rooted in place, stunned.

 

"Wait for me!" Lin Heng called as he ran to catch up with Zong Que, his whole body trembling from holding back laughter.

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